AN: Sorry if it took too long to get this on here. I lost internet and just recently got it back. I was extremely disappointed in the lack of reviews, and hope to see some when it comes to this story. Once again MidnightAbyss was my beta reader. I hope you enjoy this addition. It was extremely intense to write, I assure you. Please review!

Chapter I: Sister of Life

I reach down and lift the small turtle from the grassy earth. The grass here is tall and golden with a hint of green. I had strayed from the road, but had made sure to keep it in sight. The rolling hills of this region seem to be like the thread that ties the ice capped mountains to the far east and the lake to the left of my traveled path together. The air here is warm, yet with it's thick, mist-like moistness make it feel as if I were in a fog or if I had just been sprayed by the waves caused by the warm westerly wind. Few trees dot the hills yet there is one behind me and slightly to my right, a cherry blossom. From this tree I find that I currently kneel just a few steps out of it's shadow's reach. The wind is not steady, but slows and quickens as if the lake itself is breathing towards the mountains, carrying with it the sounds of life. Luckily, the distant mountains had not decided to return with its own frigid breath. The air smelled beautiful here scented with the smell of the lake, the grass in the warm air, and the occasional stray cherry blossom. It seemed so different from the dark and dead land of my home that it was hard to believe that I was even on the same island. As I felt it stir I looked down, once again, at the turtle now slowly trying to walk away from my outstretched hands. It's spirit glowed of patience and it's age made it seem wise and me a child, and like a child I smiled with glee, holding it, smelling it, and then, finally licking it, and that's when I heard a voice behind me. A voice like the wind blowing, and the bark of trees, the song of birds, and chirping of insects, and then I realized it sounded in someway like the essence of everything living I had heard, and it was laughing. I turned to see a glowing light that seemed strangely familiar. It was a glowing gold and reminded me of both a playful child and a wise old crone, but mostly it was more alive than anything I had ever seen before.

"You know, I have, in all my years, trained and watched thousands, and not even my most eager had gone to the lengths you have to understand life."

She says this with an amused smile, and at the same time with masked authority. This person is someone who trained and taught. She is a teacher. I stood up quickly and looked in her general direction. She is like nobody I had ever seen before, yet somehow, and possibly the most frightening fact of all, was that she was both a woman and a man, yet was a woman through desire alone. She is beautiful, yet for some reason I cannot quite see a figure. I cannot tell exactly what she looks like, for it seemed as if the sun was in my eyes and only an illusion of a face could be seen.

"I am pleased to hear this, however there is only one kind of teacher here, and they do not watch people as they celebrate life, but as they control death."

The woman sighs and then says, "What you speak, young ritualist, is true, and I would not have come here so close to my brother had I not seen one who seemed so engulfed in the life around her. I can not tell how much it warmed my heart to see you, and if it were in my ability, I am sure I would have shed tears."

Her words touch me with a sense of tenderness and love that I had never felt before, and I find that I am now crying; the tears collecting against the rag that covered the top of my head and eyes. I know that her words were filled with what I had made her feel, and it burns so warmly with happiness that it hurts to know that I had, for once in my life, brought happiness and such pure joy to another instead of fear. I didn't even notice her approach until I am suddenly wrapped in her arms. She shushs me with a certain comforting tenderness that is unfamiliar to me, and only causes me to cry that much harder, and though her voice becomes silent her touch still speaks to me in comfort and love and in what seems like forever I cry. The woman holds me patiently and does not try to stop me, or even grow impatient. Every second that she holds me she is genuinely and sincerely devoted to my comfort and calming. It is only when I could cry no longer, and that I breathe long and deep long enough that I could finally compose myself. I step back and she makes no effort to stop me, nor to direct my actions, and once I feel it is safe to speak I say, if only to lighten the mood, "I would not want to meet your brother."

Her mood becomes solemn, and she says in reply, "Unfortunately child you have. You see his name is Grenth."

The world stops. The wind does not blow. The birds do not fly. The grass does not move. Sound stops in mid-travel. The world stops as the enormity of what she said crashes down on me like the world is on my shoulders. I can not speak, and I am no longer in control. My body is in shock. My mind is in shock. I can not move. I can not breathe. I begin to shake, and suddenly my lungs, my breath; the world shakes with me. My lungs, my breath, my body shakes, and with a weak voice I ask stuttering, "Wh... what?"

She now speaks to me as a teacher, "My name is Melandru."

The shock this time makes that of before seem insignifigant. The light fades to reveal a sylvan woman with skin of tree bark and with clothes made of leaf growing from her body which was as beautiful as a sculpture. Like a tree, a few branches grew from her shoulders, arms, and head and her wooden face was suprisingly soft and beautiful despite being of wood and bark. My vision darkens and I begin to fall only to be caught in her arms. The world is fading and I can not understand what she is saying. Then suddenly, the shock is gone and I am fully coherant; still in her arms.

She looks down at me and smiles, "Relax now, child. I did not mean to startle you. However, my presence as a goddess does proceed me, and I suppose it was too much to hope that you would have known me well enough by now not to be so shocked."

I could not reply. I can only stare at her with blindfolded eyes as blankly as my mind. She then lies me down upon the grass, stands, and says gently, "Sabyl, may one day in the future, when time is on your side and it once again permits you so, look upon life as you did today, so that I may feel as I did, and in return I shall make you feel as wonderful as I."

I could only stare back at her, and, in all seriousness and in whispered silence say, "You did."

With that she smiles, turns away from me, and walks away fading into nothingness. The only sound I can hear is that of the blowing wind. The rest of the world is silent, and the sun is now setting with its brilliant oranges, purples, pinks, and colors that of which had no name that I could recognize. The wind begins to cool, yet the ground beneath me is still warm from the day's sun and its beams upon the earth, and the tall grass serves as both a cushion below me and a sense of comfort around me. The scent of the air is now less vibrant, as if smell, like the rest of life, slows down and then stops as nighttime comes. I take a deep breath and the fatigue of today's journey begins to set in. Finally, as the sun sets, and the spirits of the stars illuminate the sky, my unseeing eyes close, and the colors of the spirits, as they have since birth, lull me to sleep.