Relm discovered the limits of her magic early on, when, tired of painting copies of butterflies, she attempted to paint a family for herself. She'd always wondered what a real family felt like: real parents to keep her warm and safe, so she didn't always have to act so tough. But no matter how vivid her daydream, no matter how desperate her yearning, nothing came from her brush but static, childlike figures.
She could mimic life, she realized, but not create it. She took this disappointment in stride, sliding another brick into her walls, and turned back to the butterflies.