The sun set quickly that day, bringing the night too soon, threatening a silence to wash over the lands like a plague: one to make the blood run cold through the veins of the living. Though to some creatures this type of night was perfect, many roamed the lands to make people doubt and fear the shadows. Though this was part of her heritage she held no interest in the petty hunt for living blood that beckoned her heart. That hunt, that lust that drove sane men mad as they wished to drink the liquor of life from a struggling victim.

She was not the same as these Renfields, as she liked to refer to them as. Though she was different from them in this respect she was different in many other respects as well. Her heritage drew from the same blood lines from her father, yet her mother’s blood still coursed through her as well and that was that of a gypsy. She held no interest in taking a stage and making men swoon for her or to lust after her body. Her skills lay in her readings and physical art: the combination of the wild fire fantasy from one and the macabre lusts of another danced together in the blood that traveled through Killashandras soul.

She stood there along the edge of the oceans of time, watching the maelstrom seek its vengeance for the transgressions of sailors whom thought could control such a power of nature. As if they could control the hands of time itself, she could not fathom such ignorance. The distance faded to stormy grey and the half one stood there to face any wrath that the seas may take against her. Though they kept their distance as the waves crashed in, washing over her feet. She had not brought the wrath of the waters and knew how to keep her distance, though every so often she would bring herself out to this place to face any vengeance that the waters wished to place upon her.

Perfectly rounded eyes of ice and jade remained emotionless as she watched the turmoil unfold before her. Paled skin the color of ivory and kissed with the tint of the freshly picked peach held no flaws but markings down the left side of her cheek in the form of black ivy. After taking a small breath through her tiny aristocratic nose she parted her small dusty rose lips. Running her tongue over them to wet them lightly, tasting the remains of the salted spray.

Her swan like neck was covered in a French style golden cloth choker with laced accents along the edge, resting against her collar bones: pulled together with a simple brown suede leather strap that fell loosely at the bottom and swept over her chest. That same style material was used as make shift sleeves for a gown which had none, fitting at her upper arms and sweeping down to her delicate wrists. The gown in which she was adorned in was unique as she was; a royal amethyst fabric covered her, flowing freely from her tiny waist. The bodice of the gown swept up her midsection and barely over her breast to reveal a valley of skin many a men had dreamed to loose themselves in but were never granted the right. The fabric continued over her shoulders and into a partial hood that covered much of her cyan locks that were cropped in a pixie fashion. Upon her brow from this hood rested a small decorative pewter broach of some sort. On the upper right portion of her chest another marking black ivy swept over her skin and became lost into the fabric of her sleeves. Delicate fingers, long nails covered in a paint to match her gown curled over the spin of the journal she cradled in her grasp.

Though her blood was what it was she did not carry the wings of such a creature, she had had them altered. Looking like the wings of an angel bound in chains of ivy pewter. She moved not and looked from the distance as a concrete angel placed in some form of memorial to those lost at sea. She was alive as those that would lay eyes upon her and as dead as the ones they mourned. Lips parted and a soft hue formed around her as wings became hidden from the world around, letting her appear no more than a common aristocrat. Turning from the waters she began to drift towards the forest line and off to destinations unknown and unseen; knowing not where her feet would take her but only dreaming they would keep her a step ahead of those that followed. Each day was like any other, to seek out a world where she could be pulled from the doldrums of every day rhetoric and stay free from the confines of cold walls and even a colder life.

Within a meditative dream there remained a faun confidently standing beside the familiar walls of the great hall while passionate eyes lingered ahead in fascination, remaining mesmerized by the natural beauty of such wonders unaltered. A thickened tapestry of green covered the grassy flatlands all while the sparkling streams of blue weaved themselves along without true direction. Even the drifting cirrus clouds above were nothing more than decorative pieces among the sun soaked landscape.

An everlasting sight this appeared to be if she dared not blink even once, for night always found its rightful position without delay when least expected. But what if these curious eyes of hers that viewed a sudden night sky never blinked at all? Would time really be so ignorant as to further its natural rhythm of order with full relent? Experiencing a lapse in awareness was all that was required to send the night and day cycle feverishly out of control. Desiring to regain control, her hand reached out, attempting to capture the shifting moment.

With darkness receding, a recognizable shoreline was next to greet, accompanied by the mystifying pillars that lined the edges of her sights. These resilient constructs continued to defy the test of time, whether emerging from the surface of the ocean or hovering in midair. Appearing without much rhyme or reason, the markings upon each pillar contained little clues as to their inner workings. Only the gradual appearance of another figure, standing deeper into the rippling waters was of any significance. Even so, advances to realize the identity proved undecipherable. Such was a silhouette, ambiguous by nature. Patience was of little assistance as day once again returned to night all while the image dissipated out of sight.

Marlona slowly opened her eyes and lifted her curious gaze to the early night sky above. If it weren’t for the oblivious treetops towering over her presence, obscuring her vision beyond, the view of a starry sky might have been just perfect. The approaching cloud coverage was always an added obstacle to contend with for such desired viewings as well. The moon’s beneficial illumination, on the other hand, always seemed to filter its way through even the thickest of foliage. Giving up on the trivial, she focused her efforts on picking her sluggish body off a large and rather uncomfortable, mossy boulder. This was always easier said than done, but that is what a foolish faun like her gets for choosing otherwise.

Standing unsteadily upon two hooves was the easy part. Deciding where to venture off to at this time of night was another matter altogether. So far, this flowing stream was the most serene spot she had found all day and Marlona didn’t necessarily desire to leave just yet. And if it weren’t for seeing that unrecognizable silhouette she might have chosen to head back to that abandoned, dilapidated milling cottage she had found earlier in the morning. With her wooden carved staff placed in hand, contemplation took root within her mind while darkened chestnut eyes adjusted to her surroundings. Recollection of a certain temple brought a sparkle of intrigue to her eye and a subtle smirk upon her face.

That was it, wasn’t it; the cause of this abnormality within her own subconscious. Sounded absurd, though there was no doubt that the spiritual energies those temples radiated must have contributed to this distorted revelation of hers. Unwilling to wait for daybreak, her eager steps carefully trekked along uneven terrain all the way back to the stairs of sacred grounds. Neither a keen eye nor a pointed ear could pick up anything out of the ordinary. Only the choir of insects accompanied an otherwise silent night. Nothing, outside of the wind appeared to be aware of her presence as it swirled around her shadowed figure.

Unaided by any source of additional lighting, her willingness to venture inside the chamber remained undaunted as column after column was passed until the grandest of doors met her face to face. Etched into solid wood there appeared to be a fading outline of a great tree of unfamiliar origin. Marlona glanced downward and grabbed onto one of the weathered door knockers. A hesitant hand backed away after just three considerate knocks. Even now, second guessing to continue forth lingered near. Was this really the best of ideas to follow through with? Standing still with eyes wide open to an expanding light, both doors opened of their own volition.

A studious peek to the left and right revealed little activity, outside of the firelight that skirted around cold walls, mindfully placed behind each one of the eight crumbling stone statues. Outside of the three doors on the opposite side of the lifeless chamber, only the vacant pedestal lighted in the middle, stood out to Marlona. Why was this one missing while the rest remained in a deteriorating state of array? Call her foolish once again, for her further advances inside, but regardless of current appearances, there was something here and she knew it. “Hello… is anybody here?” Reluctant words called out for a response from anyone or anything at all.

Looking up towards the night sky as she approached the tree line, a cool breeze filled with salt spray filled Killashandras senses before she proceeded into the lush darkness that covered the floor of the forest. The evening was pleasant enough, at least for her, placing more distance between herself and those that sought her out on this moon filled night. She knew it was not wise to stand in the open of the sands but the sea would call to her ever so often and it was a call that had to be answered. It rejuvenated her senses and spirit more than any other activity she had encountered in her life time. Though after a time watching the wrath of the sea she found the silence of the woods oddly comforting, falling into the shadows as silent footsteps fell to the ground below her.

In her arms she clutched her only true possession that she cared about, a worn journal that held secrets even though the pages were blank. Meandering through the woods, her crystalline eyes stayed seemingly fixed on one point before her but she took in her surroundings nonetheless. A few streams of moonlight would break through the canopy above and she would pass like a shadow through them, the darkness clinging to her like a child would to a mother legs not wanting to let go. She was forced to take note of how quiet it was, the nocturnals did not seem to be out to play this evening and only the sound of insects rustling was cutting through the stagnant wilderness. Odd, she thought to herself as she continued on her way. The night was usually so much more alive and vibrant. She had to wonder why it was not. Perhaps it was her presence but she doubted it, things were never that cut and dry. Trying to solve such enigmas was like trying to stop a war with a single rose. It did not bold well to ones favor.

The time seemed to slip by like sands through the hour glass that had become clogged by a single piece that was too large to pass through. The minutes held their breath, causing each moment that ticked by to move as the elderly. Killashandra did not mind though; neither the silence nor the slow passing of the night. It allowed things to be better taken in, to be appreciated and studied. It was not something she had been able to enjoy during her confines and it was something that she was very willing to enjoy at this time. Taking in the small subtle moments were something that Killashandra reveled in, having long been denied them for so long and ones that she wondered how many she had left to memorize.

Though, all peace cannot be maintained indefinitely and though it was not those that hunted her or wanted to drag her back to the life she had escaped something else was occurring deep within the forest. It was not something she could see yet but a general sense that pulled her in a certain direction as her feet wandered over mossy rock and soft clover. Eventually she came to the spot of her intrigue and glanced around, her chin up slightly as violet eyes lit by the shine of moonlight seeking them out. She said not a word as she stepped over to the edge of these new surroundings. What was such a place doing here she wondered, slightly perplexed but to each their own. Perhaps there was something more to these surroundings than just stone structure that was there.

Kneeling down, her skirt billowed around her as she reached out and placed a pale hand to the ground, she knew better than to venture forward into uncharted terrain without seeing first if it would affect her right off. Eyes drifted close as she turned her head to the side, feeling the pulse of the world below. Nodding to herself that it was safe to precede she rode from her humbled position and smoothed the lush fabric of her gown down before proceeding to take another step. The steps came though, one by one as she wandered slowly and cautiously as she examined the layout of the outside. That same pale hand trailing along the cut stone that formed the structure before her until she stopped as stairs made themselves clear to her vision.

Taking each step slowly she made her way up, enjoying the feel of the cool rough stone against her fingers. It was odd, stone could be so confining if used as a hold to keep one within but in this circumstance it was a raw beauty that was surrounded by a natural one; making it far less daunting in her mind than others that she had faced as she took another step up the stairs and another until she reached the pinnacle of them and glanced around. “Peculiar,” she whispered through pale lips. This did not seem like a home to any, what it was she could not be sure. She had her suspicions but beyond that she did not linger on them other than to make a passing thought. It was not wise to judge at first glance.

Moments passed by without a single utterance from anywhere within these aging stone walls. Was there really another here with her now? Marlona wished to believe her very own senses, yet what if those same natural instincts she relied upon so heavily ultimately veered her off course once more. Unwilling to turn a blind eye away from those three doors of possible significance, she lingered for a sign. As to be expected, none of them dared open before her distant presence. Not until her interest shifted to the vacant pedestal in the center did she move along.

If neither the doors, nor the statues could be swayed by spoken voices alone, there remained one other possible option; a proper summon of sorts to a potentially sacred being. With three surrounding torches aflame in a triangular formation, there was little to decipher except for a greenish glow of the faintest kind, tracing its leafy shape along the surface of the pedestal – almost like a footprint from another, marking a past presence. Accompanying a tilt of her horns, a rather peculiar assumption arrived to mind. If this was simply a mark of the past, then there would have been no energy at all; the motioning light would have never existed.

Desiring to test an adventurous theory, Marlona placed the tip of her wooden staff to the ground with a delicate tap and held it in front of her with two hands grasped tightly around. A gradual closing of her eyes followed a respectful bow of her head. Offering up a silent prayer, she could do no more to beckon another of whom she knew nothing about. Whether this being was among benevolent angels or malevolent demons, her desire to successfully summon surpassed that of any such fears and doubts. And so maybe it was by a Faun’s foolish nature that drove these motivations of hers forward.

What began as a fading footprint grew much more pronounced. No longer was the illuminating light contained within stone, but that of the inner expanses of the chamber. Both Marlona and the fragile statues were basked in a brightening hue of green. Not even a natural firelight could resist its charm, each and every one turning to an eager green. For Marlona, an oddly comforting warmth surrounded her.

“My dearest little Faun, what brings you here to such forsaken places? Wouldn’t you rather seek out the gods and goddesses of the world who can provide the answers of which you seek?” Feminine words floated around the room.

“Why would I wish to summon another when it is not those I wish to seek? Is there a reason I should not be here?” Marlona opened her eyes and looked around, seeing the entire room filled with an empowering glow. There was still no physical being of origin that held this ethereal voice.

“How I wonder what makes you feel such ways. Even the Fauns serve that of higher gods than I. What may a lowly earth spirit such as I possibly do that can even hope to match that of a god? For I am just Nyishla… Nyishla, a Spirit of… Lost Direction.” Reminiscent words fluttered to a whisper.

“To be honest, I came here because of a vision. One that I wish to figure out. Not until I passed up this temple have I ever seen one quite like this. Somehow, I think there may be a connection and I seek nothing more than another interpretation, no matter who that may be from. Even from a capable spirit such as yourself.” Marlona let her eyes wander about as she continued to hold onto her staff.

“Is that so…” Deliberating words drifted off unfinished.

“Pardon me for asking, but is there something wrong?” Marlona eased her weight off of her staff, unsure of what had just happened. With the room still aglow, Nyishla’s scattered spirit surrounded her in silence. There must have been something in her words that stuck in some way. Left clueless, there lingered a strong desire to question again. Unfortunately, doing so may prove far more detrimental to her cause. Hanging alongside patience would have to do. Until she was completely shut off, the door would remain open for further communication.

The night was moving slowly for Killashandra, slower than it usually did and each step she took seemed to be a deliberate ticking of the sands through the hour glass for her. The location was different than those that she had dealt with in the past and yet it felt so oddly familiar for one reason or another but she did not let the passing thought dwell in her thoughts; feeling that it was better to let the moments unfold untainted from predetermined assumptions. It was how she went through life, trying to let the current events move her instead of the past even though most every step she took away from the life she had known was driven with the feeling that she had to keep escaping it. Perhaps no matter how much one did not want to judge the present by the past it was inevitable.

Pushing inside the chamber there was no additional help with ones vision but thankfully due to Killashandras blood her eyes were able to adjust and see where each foot would fall and to help keep her from running into one of the columns that she passed one by one. Seeing the door ahead she tilted her head to the side as she looked at it closely. It was truly a beautiful piece of art that was carved into the surface even though it was faded. A faint smile graced her lips as she thought about how grand it must have looked when it was initially carved and completed; it must have been stunning for even now it was still very beautiful. Delicate fingers reached out as she clutched her journal in the other hand; grasping the door knocker she let it rap three times against the wood and waited.

Killashandra was not expecting a response but then again things were not always what they seemed, she was a perfect example of that. There were people out there, creatures that existed that could easily hide their presence from most; even those out there that could hide their presence from Killashandra but for now she was not trying to reach out in another other plane than the one where she stood, just wanting to simply see if one would answer to the knock or if she would have to push forward and see for herself what lay behind the large wooden door and the weathered knocker.

Fingers slowly fell from the knocker and she took a gradual step back so that she was not blocking the door itself if it were to swing open. If something unnerving was to come forth she wanted to keep her option open and to stay so close to the door as she waited cut off some natural movement she could take to flee if needed. If something emerged that was welcome but she unnerved them she wanted to give them the option of the same and to not feel over whelmed by her presence. Such a quiet location in the middle of a forest that looked like it had not seen the touch of a hand in so many years and perhaps even decades or centuries left the imagination to run wild from nothing to anything.

“Greetings?” she said as she stood there, letting her voice carry somewhat but for all she knew the door would cut off any sound that would be traveling from passing through it. “Is anyone there?” she added as she waited and her hand came back up and clutched with her other around her journal as she drew a long and deep breath. If there was no response soon she would push forward and open the door to see what lay behind it.

“My, my, it seems we have another just outside my chamber door.” Playful words of curiosity rose above a once superior silence.

Marlona glanced behind her shoulder in response. Was this the real reason behind interrupted words? There was no knocking at the door she could recall from her own two ears. But then again, immersive conversation always proved far more of a distraction to the unsuspecting senses. Willing to look beyond her lack of awareness, she turned her eyes forward and spoke aloud in hopes of learning more. “So, it was you who opened the door for me. Does that mean you will let them in as well?” Part of her wasn’t sure letting this individual in was the best of ideas.

“Then do you wish for me to seal the door, my dearest Faun? That is all I can offer, for in my present state, I can determine no intent or relation beyond such a physical barrier.” Suggestive words offered little assurance.

“No, I don’t think we have to resort to anything like that. I don’t want to deny another of an opportunity if the need arises.” Her words were far from confident. Not while her mind pondered the unconfirmed possibilities of uncertain consequences.

“Then there is no need to worry. I leave the decision entirely up to you… as well as the decision to summon my proper form. A Faun like you must be eager to know what resides behind the voice. Unless you wish for conversation alone, there is nothing else I can offer in a fragmented form such as this one.” Urging words beckoned a growing temptation.

Only a tapping of a single finger upon her staff accompanied a contemplative gaze forward. “If that is what must be done to see to my request, I will try my best to bring your form back into focus.”

“Please pay no heed to inexperience my dear, for only that of a single heartfelt prayer is all that is necessary. I am simply a spirit without direction… nothing more. Your voice will become my beacon for which I will follow.”

“If that is all, I will respectfully choose to become your beacon.” Marlona grabbed hold of her staff with both hands and closed her eyes. Once more, she offered up a prayer, in hopes of successfully reaching out to Nyishla. If that was all, then she would do her absolute best to perform a complete summons.

The delicate haze that lingered throughout the chamber began to lift ever higher, rising towards the ceiling above, thickening into a fog of a much deeper shade. Stillness remained for only a moment until all motion shifted from the vertical to the horizontal. A swirling motion soon followed, spiraling in a quickening counter clockwise direction. With all knowing eyes closed, only the circling wind that followed along was of any indication of the impending transformation.

The energetic flames that resided near each and every pedestal flickered and swayed to and fro as they stretched to reach the vortex above. Not until the last spark of green was drawn from these wild flames did the leaves start to quickly appear all throughout, seeking to take shape at last. Desiring to descend upon solid ground, a funneling whirlwind touched upon the surface of the central platform below, feverishly dancing in place. With the tempo slowing, a respectable figure began to appear between the naturally glowing firelight, all but ready to continue forth.

“Thank you, my dearest Faun. I have found you and along the way, found myself for the time being. Do please open your eyes.” Nyishla spoke with great relief.

Marlona relaxed her posture and gently opened her eyes, one at a time, not wanting to be left in the dark for too long. There were no words to follow, just several sideways glances and a few unbelieving blinks upon first impression. From head to toe, Nyishla's feminine figure was wrapped wildly in leaves and vines of varying coverage. If not for those darkened, soulless eyes, and those intimidating beast-like extremities, then there would have been little doubt as to Nyishla’s true motivations in being entirely summoned. Of course, it would have been a lie if Marlona didn’t feel a little nervous right about now. Even so, she stood her ground, albeit rather quietly, holding no desire to back down and run away.

Time seemed to slow down around Killashandra as she stood there, awaiting to see if there was any response to her call. Was someone in there hiding in the shadows, somewhere beyond the darkness was there grind or foe or perhaps there was nothing but trickery playing in her mind as the winds whistled through the trees of the forest on this evening. Surly someone would answer if there had been but then again if she had been the one that lay within the doorway, would she answer out to the call of one she did not know? Could she have added that she was grind to one she did not know? Perhaps not for sometimes the friends that we see at face value, beneath them lays something cruel and unyielding and those that appear to be monsters are truly the kind and gentle hearted.

Killashandra had learned years ago to never let things go by face value alone for she had been used by those that she held dear before. Them only wanting what they seemed and giving no consideration to what they should give in return to the ones that stood beside them. It had driven her away from more than one so called friend in the past and even now there were those she knew that made games of her needs while she tried to catered to their whims. Making her wish she had a greater strength to end them but loneliness was a cruel mistress and it caused one to hang on to the past when it should be buried before any more trauma could be caused.

Then again there had been those she had stayed away from for one reason or another only to find they were truly a diamond in the rough, only needing a single word of kindness to reveal what a rare gem they were in a world of hardship and turmoil. How she longed go meet more such as those, for they were too few and too far in between in this life and the next. Perhaps she should take a chance on seeking out to find if there was friend or foe, either way, as she looked at it, twas better than nothingness, perhaps it was the nothingness she feared but at this point in her life she did not have the luxury to fear what was already before her.

Taking a step and then another she pushed her way deeper into the building that she had come across. Something had called to her when she stood on the precipice of time at the shores edge. Causing her to wander into the forest and away from the harsh brutality of the waves crashing and wearing down the cliffs. She sensed no malice before her as she wandered, every so often calling out and listening to hear of there was any reply, but malice could be hidden, like so many things, in the shadows so much could be kept in the darkness. Veiled from reality.

"Hello?" she spoke again as she stopped and looked around, pulling her journal out and taking the quill from its spine. Soft eyes looked on cold parchment that was soft and expectant. Taking a breath she left her fingers fly across the blank canvas. She wanted to be able to see more clearly and while there was some light it was not as much as she would like. The cold walls seemed to play tricks the longer she stood there and she longed for the soft warmth of true flame, a gentle dream to break the fog of memory.

Once she had finished the drawing she replaced the quill back in its resting spot in the binding of the journal before ripping the page out and closing her most treasured possession. Tucking into the belt of her bodice before holding the parchment between her finger tips, it catching on fire at the highest point of the paper and melting into a wooden torch a flame with soft flickering light that her place fingers wrapped around.

"Hello?" she called once more.

“My dearest faun, are you alarmed by my unexpected presence?”

“No… well… maybe a little.” Marlona remained uncertain. How could this welcoming voice originate from such an emotionless figure?

“That is completely understandable. Do know that I remain here to return a favor… at your request, of course. It was assistance with your vision, was it not?”

“Yes, yes it was.” Marlona’s eager voice followed along. This is what she was originally here for, let her not forget. “Anything would be helpful, anything at all.”

“Then let us continue forth.” Nyishla lifted a hand above her head and randomly plucked out a small leaf. “And do be sure to hold out an open palm.” The leaf was tossed into the air above, holding steady in suspension.

Having received the go ahead, Marlona reached out her hand and flipped an open palm, ready to catch its twirling descent. As if by some sort of divine intervention, only the stem ever touched upon her skin. There, the leaf remained standing tall. “Nyishla? What am I supposed to do with the leaf now?”

“Bring forth those memories you wish to understand and I will do the rest.”

“Ok then. All I have to do is think about them… simple enough.” Once again, as was becoming routine, Marlona shut her eyes and let these specific images run wild within her mind.

“Please do open your eyes this time. You wouldn’t wish to miss out on what is important to be seen. Just keep your eyes on the leaf while imagining.” A point of a single finger, directed towards Marlona’s palm set forth peculiar changes.

Starting from the tip, the leaf began to dry and shrivel while its color began to blacken. As if set alight by fire, the charring leaf quickly turned into a warm pile of ash. Surprised eyes remained fixed upon her palm. “Tell me, what is it that I am supposed to gather from a sight?”

“The proof that rests in your hand means that neither this temple nor I have brought forth your particular vision or are any relevance towards the images within. For if it that were the case, the leaf would have remained unaltered. In your case, the leaf in your hand knows the ways of the flame in some way. And likewise, water would have caused the leaf to wilt... the wind would have simply blown it away.”

“If what you have said is true, then what may have caused such a vision, and who may this individual be? We’ve only ruled out the temple and you, Nyishla.” Marlona’s words grew desperate for answers.

“Even though I am unable to provide any such details, I am familiar with the ways of the all consuming flame... for it has continuously deceived our own kind time and time again. That is why I can feel its mischievous presence grow one in number, beyond my chamber door.”

“Wait, you don’t think they left yet?” Marlona let go of the ash and gripped her staff tighter with both hands.

“It seems as though they wish to remain near. The bearer remains a mystery even still, though doesn’t it make one wonder as to who holds this flame. And was it not the power of the flame that consumed the very leaf you once held onto. A possible clue, perhaps?” There were those all too convincing words again, encouraging in every way.

Marlona turned around and studied the closed chamber door. “Does that mean this individual I know nothing about or have ever seen may actually lead me in the right direction?” Marlona shook her head in disbelief. Why did all of this suddenly sound so fishy? The unlikely notion of this being any more than a trap lingered in the back of her mind.

“Anything remains a possibility in this world of ours.” Nyishla’s words spoke of experience as she stood by in wait.

“Here goes nothing, I suppose.” Whispered words attempted to reassure while her steps carried reluctantly along. Not until she was several feet away from the entryway did the undesired occur. Compliments by a certain somebody, the door sprung open, revealing a darkened hall, occupied by a lone female holding a single lit torch in hand. “Nyishla, I wasn’t ready yet.” Marlona mumbled her words. Something in the back of her mind wanted to believe that Nyishla actually had an unsuspecting sense of humor.

Regaining focus, Marlona looked upon the gowned young woman. “Um… hi there?” Her words inadvertently questioned. “Didn’t know anyone else took to this temple.” Marlona could only follow up with a smile, having been set up into an awkward situation, compliments of Nyishla.

Killashandra stood there at the door, debating internally whether to push forward or to turn and abandon this side trek that she had taken into the forest. She truly had no where else to go and nothing to attend to so it mattered not if she pressed forward or turned away. She had called out several times and though her voice was perpetually soft, it had run true through the structure. There was no reason that if someone was there not to respond at this point unless they chose not to. Did she want to press one that did not wish to be found? In her mind, the answer was a resounding no for she had many a days in her life not wished to be found by certain people and yet the persisted. Perhaps it was time for her to give a favor to one that she wished had been bestowed on herself.

The unique creature stood there for a moment long and then began to turn to leave only being halted in her movement by the sound of a gentle creak of iron and wood as it echoed through the temple. Stopping in her tracks she held her torch up and watched the door as it slowly opened; a thin brow rising beneath the silver and lilac bangs that fell over a pale visage. She held her head high, a slight rise to her chin as her eyes turned downward to look over the form that was standing in the door way, now clear to be seen.

"Greetings," Killashandra spoke in a wispy voice thick with an unknown yet exotic accent. She said nothing more as her eyes moved down ever so slowly and then back up the form of the one that stood before her, taking in the sight. She had never experienced once such as this before but she had read tales of such and even though she had never accounted such fairy tales as truth she had not put them out of the realm of possibility. It seemed that most tales were spun with a web of truth that tied the them together.

"You would be?" Killashandra finally asked after a very long moment of silence. Though she was asking what the persons name was and not what she was, it could have been taken as either or both due to her inflection of intonation and the way she held herself. Upon reflection of what she had said and how it could have come off she tilted her head to the side. "Perhaps I should clarify and use some manners. I am Killashandra. What is your name?"

“I am Marlona,” she cheerfully responded, “and it is nice to meet you.” Unfamiliar people were always a strong attraction to a curious faun such as her, not to mention the notable politeness that happened to follow along. “I hope you weren’t standing here the entire time I was inside. If so, I am really sorry for the long wait. Kind of my fault for taking so long to respond.” If not for Nyishla’s little push to move along, there was no doubt Killashandra would have eventually left without further regard.

“You wouldn’t happen to be here to see Nyishla as well, would you?” Marlona, hoping Killashandra would understand, shifted the focus of conversation towards that peculiar earth spirit. “It’s alright if you aren’t.” This was completely understandable given that Marlona still didn’t know what exactly a spirit of lost direction really was even after summoning her form entirely. “Besides, I can easily go with the idea of just wandering in here for whatever reason. Was pretty much how I wound up here in the first place.” A smile appeared on her face, amused by such adventurous thoughts.

“Still… I remain unsure what exactly I am searching for, only that I feel as though I am following something in the distance, unclear as it may be.” Spoken thoughts took their turn, contemplating present circumstances. “But enough about all that uninteresting stuff. How about yourself? Is there anything I can assist you with?” Marlona let her sincerity known. If there wasn’t anything in particular, just having enjoyable company was always a pleasant way to pass the time along.

Killashandra watched the one who called themselves Marlona, studying the female creature before her. She had heard tales of such creatures but had never once personally run across one. Perhaps that is why they were considered legend, much like herself. Standing there in silence she listened to her seem to ramble on, thinking to herself that she must enjoy speaking to others. It seemed rather odd to her that one would be forthright with so much information and so many questions to one they just met but not everyone was like Killashandra. She found little use for words unless it was truly called for and yet then perhaps it was needed.

“Let me see if I can address all your inquiries,” Killashandra said in a thickly accent voice that was light on the wind as it pushed through the flame of her torch causing it to flicker oddly. “No, I have not been here long,” she answered first for she hadn’t. Not in the grand scheme of things, she had been there but a blink of time. “I do not know this Nyishia that you speak of,” she retorted to the question about if she was there to see the one she spoke of. “I was simply drawn here.”

“Can you assist me?” she asked as a thin light brow arched on pale skin. “I do not believe that I am in need of assistance for I have been searching for none.” Taking a shallow breath that caused her chest to rise and fall dramatically beneath the tightly cinched corseted gown that adorned her body. “Perhaps,” she began, thinking to herself before she continued. “Perhaps you can inform me what this place is.”

Marlona listened intently as each and every concern was addressed in succession. Nothing seemed all too different from her own experience aside from actually meeting Nyishla. Not until she was asked to explain what this place may have been did she draw a sudden blank, unsure of how to answer Killashandra’s one and only question. If Marlona spoke up now, there would be little truth to her speculating words. A sacred temple upon ancient grounds; its sole resident a strange earth spirit of unknown origin was all that drew to mind. All of which could be figured out by simply letting wandering eyes drift along in fascination. No doubt, her cluelessness was quite evident and entirely written upon her face.

“Well, as much as I wish to tell you all about this place and its history… unfortunately, I know nothing more than what you have seen so far.” Marlona took a deep breath as her thoughts sought out something of importance to latch onto. “Outside of Nyishla, who happens to be an earth spirit of lost direction, I remain in the dark as to what all of this exactly means. That I was never explained.” Her eyes lowered at the realization. Part of her wished for Nyishla to speak even just a word, acknowledging her lingering presence from behind. A spirit such as her would no doubt be the perfect source for information in a moment like this.

“My dearest faun, does it trouble you so that my origins remain a mystery to your very own thoughts. If one wishes, I hold no memory behind at such a curious request.” Encouraging words floated across the silence. “Both may wish to linger by and listen to the truths I hold within, for time matters not for an earth spirit such as I.”

Marlona felt a sense of relief. Thanks to Nyishla’s almost perfect timing, she didn’t have to be quite the baffled little faun anymore. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be better for Nyishla to explain things for us. Would definitely be more reliable than any fairytale from me, that’s for sure,” Marlona jokingly added while her focus remained towards Killashandra, wondering whether she too held enough interest to stick around and find out.

Killashandra stood there in silence listening, her ears perking at the surrounding sounds of the temple. Or lack there of, it seemed rather silent for such a place even though there was obviously something going on there. Turning slowly she glanced over her bare shoulder back towards the entrance deep in thought if she should just press on or risk a bit of time here. There were a few moments of silence before her head turned back on its swan like neck to look back over towards the woman.

"Perhaps I should listen," she said in a willowy voice, "to the one you speak of, at least for a time." The torch she held continued to burn, a seemingly endlessness in its flame as the it did not burn away as most others would and yet held its constant fire. The only flickering from the tip of the flame that cast shadows about them; ones that did not fall onto the visage of Killashandra herself.

"If you would lead the way, I will follow," she said in a proper tone as she grasped her journal in her free hand, the feathered quill that was pressed into the leather of the spin whipping gently as Killashandra kept her grip on it; holding it close to the dark silk of her bodice.

“Of course, just follow me.” Marlona’s words remained upbeat, having been pleased to hear Killashandra’s interest to stay around for a little while longer. While her advances returned at a casual pace, her mind ventured along an imaginative state, pondering over the tales yet to be told on this tranquil night. Upon reaching Nyishla, Marlona refocused her sights. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear about this temple and you as well, Nyishla. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble that is.” An audience of two certainly wouldn’t be too much to handle for such a wise earth spirit.

“If that is what you seek, my dearest faun, then I have no problems at all sharing my people’s memories to the both of you, for they hold no purpose when locked tightly away from such an evolving world as ours.” Nyishla’s eyes were drawn towards Killashandra. “Even if I offer up nothing beyond what you see here, in regards to accommodations, feel free to wander about my chamber and have a look at anything you desire. If any questions happen to arise while my words bring forth the past, feel free to ask for an explanation and I would be welcome to do so.” Even Nyishla realized there was far too much historical knowledge to be understood in its entirety for a single night’s duration.

Knowing so, Nyishla gave both Killashandra and Marlona a moment to take another glimpse around the spacious chamber before continuing along with her words. “Was there something that may have caught your attention… anything at all? Possibly the tree that was once meticulously engraved into my chamber door? Or maybe you wish to find out about the eight circling statues that once stood tall around us. Could it be the trio of doors, sealing away possible secrets that allure your eyes? Maybe it is just to find out what Nyishla really is.”

“How about the great tree I’ve been noticing all throughout the temple. I am certain it must have significant meaning for you, Nyishla.” Marlona responded enthusiastically.

Behind distant eyes, a sense of longing returned for a moment, before reminiscent words spoke aloud soon after. “For Nyishla… and all of the Niya who have ever existed in this world, there remains only a single mother for which we’ve ever known… the great mother tree. Standing tall above every season, she gave us life and gave us shelter throughout the passage of time. For you see, unlike the majority of the world that surrounds us all, shifting from season to season in a natural rhythmic cycle, our mother tree had reached out and embraced them all. To the north, heavy snow and thickened ice clung forever to her frozen limbs… to the east, young leaves found comfort eternally upon her steady warmth… to the south, her leafy vibrancy never ceased to outlast even the most heated of days… and to the west, everlasting foliage entertained limitlessly.

Nyishla remains unsure how our mother tree had accomplished such a miraculous feat, maintaining a hold of these rambunctious seasons all at once, but the truth remains so since the very first of our kind had ever been born. Unlike most races or species upon our world, each one of our lives began from the life branches from up above… the same ones that extend to touch the different seasons. Hanging from these branches were the fruits of every unborn Niya waiting to gracefully descend upon the land below and finally take form. A Niya fruit that had grown far too heavy for our mother tree dropped naturally to the ground below where steady growth resumed. There each of us remained until sprouting took place, emerging safely from our structured walls.

Outside of how we were born, Niyishla’s life cycle has shared that of almost every other, going through infancy to adulthood, though far more rapidly. Even though this isn’t much cause for concern, I feel as though we are still viewed with a scrutinizing eye due to our seemingly immortal physical forms. Our extraordinary rate of regeneration was almost unheard of from outsiders to our own little world. It has also been proven that with this same gift we Niya can also rejuvenate the land around us… collective efforts far more superior of course. Throughout our years of existence we’ve helped others and made allies. At the same time we have also made enemies just for the existence of our very nature alone. Mistakes have also been made along the way, yet our punishment still weighs heavily upon Nyishla to this very night.” Her words dissipated all while lingering memories reminded her of those painful sacrifices that still waited ahead in history.