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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Weeks ago...

She walked a long, winding path through a woodland. An unremarkable patch of woods with no discerning features, nothing which made it different from any other forest. So very generic. As was the path, bedecked with the same banal features of any other ordinary path. So very common were the surrounds, that she focused on what lay ahead. In the closing distance the path dead-ended and two very remarkable trees stood tall above those through which she passed. A sinister and blackened tree whose name no doubt was as twisted and pronounced as the branches it bore, and a vibrant oak, teeming with all the colors of the autumn woods. Both so very unlike the monotonous grove through which she'd just trod. Her scrutiny of both trees concluded, she suddenly realized there were people standing among them. The figures were ethereal in form, spirits. To the left, beside the malformed tree, she recognized the face of her daughter. Turning her attention to the figure to the right of the oak, she found that she did not recognize the face of the woman standing there. Now, she beheld the face of the woman standing between the two trees. It was her sister. That would logically place the woman to the right as.. her mother? Before she could think further on this, the woman's voice interrupted.

"You have until Samhain, my child."


The dream had come each night since Dealthagar had restored her. She knew there was a choice to be made.

Why now?

Had this part of her been dormant all these years? She turned her mind from that subject which held no immediate answers.

She had definitely been changed during the procedure. Dealthagar couldn't help but notice that she had taken to wandering the small garden of their Trinsic cottage. He had built a vast garden at their new estate to accommodate her, where previously he would have been content with elegant statuary.

She marveled at all she had forgotten. The warmth of mortal touch, the taste of her favorite foods. Once only fading memories, she enjoyed them anew like a rescued castaway. That extra sensation, that pulsing vibe underlying nature itself when she walked among the trees, perhaps that one was new. Although, something itched at the back of her mind, an old memory nagging to make itself known.

Perhaps all of the answers would come to life on Samhain.