"Once upon a time…there was… an orphan. She was brought, they said, by wild seals, and left on the edge of the sea. They found her in the morning… And left her there, saying that what the sea had, it kept. But the sea did not want her, and it, too, left her on the sands… But…The forest wanted her. And it took her. She was raised by the trees…she spoke whispery soft, like leaves, and was tall and brown. But, humans will miss humans, no matter how tree-like they are, and so did she. She peeked upon the village, and watched them. She learned their habits. She felt their pains and joys. And for a while, that was enough. For a while…
She was a young woman when the old man came. She watched him. He was different. He was wild. And he spoke a language, sharp and harsh, smooth and continuous like the sea. Watching wasn't enough. She crept into the village, tall, brown, and bare. He said nothing, but gave her a rough blanket, and said, 'The Sea's been waiting.'
He taught her much for three years. Old tales, stories. He filled her head with heroes and her heart with Compassion and Courage. And then…He gave her a boat, and a sword, and a song, and said…'Aryth, fortune be with you.' And she sailed, far, faraway…And came upon a land…dark…and desolate …And she found the people…old and frail…and she listened to their tale, and it was not a cheery tale.
Agrin. That was its name. Its scales were ebony, but its teeth were red. Red because…of blood. Blood because…it ate human flesh…And the blood stained its teeth, and…its heart. They said that once, it was human. But its malice malformed it, and it became…A monster. And so…it waited. It bided its time. Deep, deep in the earth, in the labyrinths, it waited. And when it was hungry…it ate.
She took her sword, and she took her song, and they led her to the chasm, and she looked into the void, and she saw death waiting. But she had Compassion and Courage, and the people needed her. So she persisted in her journey…And…the dark…was overwhelming…but…humans are foolish…and they are brave.
She wandered the corridors of what seemed to be a sunken land, and she waited. Because the Agrin would find her. It would smell her blood, and it would hunger for it. And she would be waiting.
It came. It wailed, a high-pitched sound, and it lunged. Its eyes were filled with hate and greed and want…and it came.
She forgot her song. Fear forgets quiet things, and latches on to flashy and redundant things, and so she remembered her sword, but forgot her song.
The battle was hard and weary. There was much blood. She was weakening. And it is at the end, when our mind begins to recede, that fear lets go. And she remembered her song.
Her voice was like starlight. It was cold water. It was silver.
The shadows withdrew and the blood ebbed away from the monster's heart, and it became a young woman, with pain engraved deep into her soul. And Aryth knew. Agony is the strongest hate."
They know what to tell us. What we can stand. But they don't always listen. The voices are not always kind.