Nar 26, 229 : The Siren's Song

The Siren's Song
Summary: Nylie finds the true power and gift of the music within her
OOC Date: 28/7/2014 (OOC) - Occured over several days due to RL interuptions
Related: Nothing specifically, but anything related to music and Nylie most likely.

With NPCs played by

Caedmon Dair 
The World of Dreams
See log for dream world 'rooms'
It is day 26 of the month of Nar, 229 2E

Days were long and tiring, thus sleep came more easily then it once did. Even if it might take a few turns and flopping to get comfortable with her growing stomach, but eventually sleep had come. A slight mumble at some point as her mind had finally eased enough for her to fall into dreams. The conversations of recent days playing into them it would seem, and as dreams go…there were shifting scenes. The turn of travel, the passage of plains and trees. A return to a room and music before returning to a forest of old trees and ruins, a red poppy in hand as sad music moves through the surrounding. Then along to a lakeside, a strange dias there as she stands looking at the two symbols in hand, a string tied to each before looking out across the waters.

Across the water there is life, gaily decorated wagons pulled by horses can be seen. The creek of harness and wood, the slow plodding of hoof beats. The air is cool and wind dances across the waters. A voice calls out, perhaps a scout but a scout dressed in bright colors. "Hey ho! Mind if we share your clearing to camp? Night will be falling soon." The man is has a cracked tooth and his face is pox marked but his smile is reflected in his dark eyes. He is mounted on bay horse that looks to be of decent breeding. At the horse is decently taken care of.

A brief look of confusion falls as Nylie glances back towards the symbols in her hands before they are pocketed away in hearing the approach of those hoof beats drawing closer. "Nay, please come and make use of it as well. It shall provide shelter enough for the cool evening promised. And a fire has been started, it yet strives to take hold, but it should be ready soon enough." A simplicity settling into Nylie's tone, one bidden more to her own time at travel.

"We thank you for your offer." The man says. He then wheels his horse around and disappears into the forest. He is gone for a while and the brightly colored wagons fade out of sight. She is left with just the sound of the water and wildlife that are in this clearing. Another candle mark seems to pass and from the trees the brightly colored scout appears. Behind him are about ten Wagons. The wagons are brightly painted and made of wood and some even have ornate carvings on them. There are men, woman and children traveling with this caravan. Horses and other animals are also with them.

There is a bow of Nylie's head,"You are welcome." A slight blink when he vanishes along, watching the bright colors for a moment. A return to the small camp that seems to exist, the fire given further life. It was but a small camp really, plenty of room to be shared in the clearing. A single tent existed. The reapperance of the wagons, all the bright colors does catch Nylie's eye. Perhaps some vague though to next time ask how many and yet not thinking it really matters. Sharing was a way of the road. Attention given to the carvings, the wagons a thing of beauty of their own. A mild salute given to the scout upon his return, a welcoming,"Be welcome, though I shall perhaps have need for a bigger fire."

"You will but with us we bring fuel for it and we will share our food!" Another man answers as the scout bows his head and steps away to help get a circle of wagons formed. Quickly the quiet glen turns into a symphony of organized chaos. Children and adults unharnessed horses and set them up for the night as water is fetched from the stream and that small fire given the means to gain a life of its own. That grows and the people's voice's rise and fall each one adding to the symphony. Children curious and shy approach Nylie. A woman appears. Her hair is white as snow and she lithe frame boney. She offers Nylie a grin. "Out of place and out of time." Her voice echoes her cheer. "You could not hear our call until you learned to except old ways."

A soft laugh comes,"A thing for which I am thankful, for while I shall share willing of what I have, I fear it would not be near enough for all within your group." Nylie taking a step back to her own tent, a log added to the fire that had been started, likely to grow in time. Or be used to start others with the group. A turn of curiosity in watching the organized chaos that goes with the setting up of camp, knowing it to well on a much smaller scale. A soft smile is offered to the curious children, a small flute picked up to offer a little lively tune for them for a few moments. Though the instrument is drawn away at the appearance of the woman, a smile of warmth offered alone with an incline of her head in greeting. "Out of place and out of time?" the phrase repeated with some hint of question, the greeting not familiar to her. Though the question lingers in Nylie's eyes,"The old ways have been twined within my life for much of it. Though who are you all for such a call to be unheard?"

"I am Renell, the woman tells her. Come and sit and join us tonight. We are the travelers. We are of the road and the wind. We know of the eight but the path we walk is ancient. We getting ready to winter in Skyforest. During the other seasons we travel, but we always come back here." The woman says with a wave of her hand. "Come I will make you some tea. There will be other joining us tonight. You must play for us as well. We are awakening and you are of our blood little one. You must join in our celebration this night!"

"Well met Renell, I am Nylie," offering her name, yet getting the feeling it was known in some way as the woman continues to talk. Drifting back to her feet at the invitation,"I would be honored to join you this evening." A small nod comes,"The Eight are new…and many forget the old ways. HE spoke of that, of things becoming forgotten and fading. " A smile dances to her lips,"It seems a good place to come back to, I find myself coming back as I can….I think I grow to restless when I do not. " Dipping her head at the mention of the tea,"Thank you, tea would be pleasant. I will play as I can, it would be my pleasure to share in the celebration and song….though I am of your blood?" A curious questoin rather then challenging.

"Aye, every noble has a bit our blood in them. Some it will sing to them and cause them unrest for in their hearts they cannot settle others it lays dormant and is but a distant found memory of childhood dreams." The woman responds back to her. Her eyes are bright. "Sit by the fire and let me get you some tea." The woman disappears and when she returns she has a cup of tea for her. "Aye, you born back to us our Nyie, daughter of Autumn and traveler."

A nod comes after a moment upon hearing the explanation, Nylie having some recollection of hearing similar….sometime…though at the moment unable to quite recall, nor particularly certain it matters. "Childhood memories can be quite fond, things seem simpler then. " Giving the flute a slight turn in her fingers as she takes the seat by the fire, settling it within her lap in time to take up the cup of tea the woman returns with. A faint breathe drawn over the tea to take in the scent of it, perhaps to place the brew before a tenative sip is taken to test of taste and temperature. "It seems I am in time then to be born back so to have chance to jion the celebration." There is a slight pause,"Though of what other meaning comes in being born back, to be able to hear the call I could not before?"

"Would you have been open to us had you put your music aside? Would you have heeded our tiny call to you? To live one must die, to have joy one must understand sorrow. You had to lose faith in order for it to grow and to be open to us. Lose faith and heart, your spirit did in our eyes. Then you found life and your spirit opened up to you. Perhaps it was Lughdon who is every shifting between the realms of man and fey that brought you to us, when you did dream of him." The woman smiles. The tea smells of mint and chamomile it is hot but not too hot. It mixes well with the crisp scent of fall. "Your brother the seer has been reborn. It is time siren to awaken. Feel our music in your blood. Let it burn your spirit. See the fire and hear it. Make them feel what you feel."

"I would like to think I would, but I know I cannot know for certain. It is one thing to consider and ponder of what one will do, and another of what actually happens when it comes to be. " Nylie draws a few more sips of the tea before she gives a gentle nod,"Much was lost, much had to be found…I had to be found again. Lughdon did help, I had not seen how far the music was felt, was needed." Raising the cup a little,"This is pleasant in this cool evening, thank you." Her eyebrows raise at mention of her brother,"He spoke….he was always closer, not always born away. " She hesitates a moment,"I…have always hidden part of myself away, so they would not know….But that has been wrong…hasn't it. I will listen and feel, hear."

"My child and my daughter your gift has always been music. Your music is in your blood. You can make a fire dance to it, you can bring an audience to tears or have them laugh with joy, you can sooth a mob or make them frenzy, you songs can lead men to their deaths. You are us and we are you. Your blood is the blood of the old ones. We are what is left of the first humans or so I have been told. The wheel turns and some return and other s do not." The woman tells her. As they talk the sky changes from the evening twilight to a dark shade of midnight. In the horizon Cri cannot be seen. "Let me get you some food and Apple Cake."

A small nod comes,"It has always seemed that way, aye. It was just always something that was a part of me….My music was as much a part of me as I was of it." Nylie's dark eyes consider the woman, some hint of curiosity, awe perhaps to consider the words spoken of what she could do with music. Some things perhaps considered and known, she knew music could sooth the soul or stir it…But to such lengths? "It was always a thing to wonder, the turning of the wheel. " A smile comes,"Apple cake sounds lovely, I think it has been to long since I had proper. " The last of the tea being worked upon.

The last of the wagons might be slightly newer than the others, but it bears ornate carvings and bright paints that mark it as a kin of the others. A team of fine mares of such breeding that they might have come from some noble's stables mares, pulls the wagon. One is as black as midnight. Her coat is glossy enough to reflex the flickering firelight. The other is a magnificent bay, as light as a hewn pine tree, except for her tail and mane, which are of a dark brown. The driver brings the wagon to a stop and and surveys the camp. He wears a bright yellow shirt with intricate geometric patterns stitched onto it in floss in an array of colors - red, orange, azure, green, and violate. His complexion is tan and his dark brown hair is pulled back from his face. His eyes are of such a dark brown that they almost seem black, yet they twinkle with life and mirth. A keen eye might judge him to stand at just over 16 hands.

Beside him sits a woman who might be three hands shorter than he, at least. She is delicately pale and wiry, with blazing red hair in a tight grade that trails behind her, and eyes as blue as the summer sky at midday. Her eyes, like his, sparkle with life, energy, and joy. She is wearing an indigo dress of simple cut that hides her slender frame from shoulders to feet in a curtain of flowing fabric. along the hem of the dress is needlework of flowers in alternating yellow, white, and pink floss. He looks to the woman beside him, and then stands. He drops deftly to the ground from the seat and then turns, holding his arms out to catch the woman. When she stands, any astute observer can see that indeed, she is quite short, at slightly more than 14 hands. She places her hands on his forearms and he clasps her forearms. He lifts her from the seat and then lowers her to the ground. Then he takes her hand of his pale companion and walks with her toward the group, and to Nylie. While he steps into the firelight, he peers at her for a moment, then surveys the camp around her. "You don't seem to have a wagon." Then he looks to the white haired old woman and questions, "Grandmother, is she the one?"

With Renell gone to get the food, the apple cake, Nylie's gaze does turn back to the wagons that have taken ot filling the clearing. Notice going to those that seem to be yet arriving, the last of them. The clearing seeming to have filled up nicely it seems. Her eyes flicker over the display of colors that continue to occur with each wagon and with the clothing as well of the travelers. The couple given greater notice as they approach the fire, the way the firelight dances with the colors in their clothing. A smile and gentle incline of her head offered in greeting when they are near. Surely, her own clothing rather dull in comparision to those of the wagons. A simple traveling dress in deep green. Her dark hair plaited back into a braid. "Nay, I do not. I was here before," a hand motioning to the small tent that exists over yonder yet. Her eyes flickering between the older white haired woman and the new arrival.

The man's eyes dart to the tent and then back to the young woman. He smiles and inclines his head. "Do not worry, there are no more of us than you see now," he assures. Then he chuckles. "At least, no more in this company on this night." He nods toward the old woman climbing into another of the wagons before he adds, "We'll collect more wood for a proper fire, and then set about cooking a proper meal." He looks to the woman beside him and squeezes her hand. "I'll be back in a moment. I need to unhitch the girls so that they can graze and drink."

Renell returns with bowls of hearty fish stew and apple cake. The bowl is handed over to Nylie and the sets the large plate of apple cake. "aye it is the truth." The woman smiles.

The short woman with fiery hair grins at the man. "I will see to it them. you three should talk.". the ball of energy the moves away.

Nylie gives a warm smile,"I was not growing worried, the clearing was to large for me to not share it. Especially with my tent so small. " An old turn of simple traveling hospitality, a thing often long lost really. The cup now emptied of the tea is set aside so Nylie can take up the offered bowl of fish stew,"It smells delicious." Giving the stew a look, far better then what simple meal had surely been within her plans. Her smokey eyes looking up with a quiet shift of her gaze between the trio as there is that discussion of whom will be seeing to the horses. And the need to talk.

"I did not mean for you—" the man starts to object. He watches the small woman hurrying to unharness the horses. Then he shakes his head and sighs. "She grows restless after a long ride," he explains. Other people have begun to gather within the circle of wagons. Some of the men and boys bring armloads of wood, and some of the girls bring pots, lands, and packages of various kinds. The man looks around the group and grins. Looking to Nylie, he comments sagely, "A woman should not travel alone on these roads. Some people have intentions as dark as our clots and wagons are colorful."

The old woman is smiling as she takes a seat. "Give it time, she is just energetic." The woman grins. "now eat and I will tell you what my mother told me to help you awaken my dear. "

A quiet smile comes in hearing the start of the objection, Nylie could understand the restlessness that came after a journey. "I can understand, it can be difficult to sit for so long and not have much opening to strech the legs or move. " Smokey eyes moving to take in the activity of the camp with a slight glance now and again. Though her eyes are drawn back to the man as he makes the sage comments. She does not agree the point, concuring instead with a nod of her head,"There is always risk to travel alone. Sometimes there is need, sometimes there is simply wish. But I am no longer alone this evening." A nod and smile going towards the old woman as Nylie does take to eating the stew as she listens on.

The young man settles on the ground near the fire, looks up to the old woman, and smiles. "I never complain about that, grandmother. She has been like that since I met her, and I would not change her for all of the wealth of the land. She is my little ant, always eager and always helping." Then he nods to Nylie. "Indeed, yau have found company, perhaps more than you wanted, but we hope that when the morning comes, you will be glad that we came." He reaches to help another man with settling a large log on the fire. "If we are going in the same direction, you are welcome to go with us. You would be safer," he offers.

The old woman smiles. "Out of time and out of place, but right now we are where we all need to be. So Siren daughter of the Fae, will you play for us today once you have eaten. When you do I ask that you bare your spirit to us, make us feel your heartache and your joy, make the fire dance become the music, see it and make us know it. We are your kin and we beg of you to share with us." She offers apple cake to the man that joined them. "Marion is of Viri, but he understands." There is intensity in her voice. "You are the siren." She repeats.

Nylie dips her head to the young man,"Perhaps it is more, but then I expected none. And find myself pleasantly surprised to have such. We shall see come morning and let us hope you are glad to have come as well." Some of the fish stew is managed whilst the large log gets settled. Nylie noting,"There was mention of heading to Sky Forest, it is as fine a direction as any to go. And I might also find others going where I should end up from there. " Offering after a moment,"I am Nylie." Looking on to the old woman when she speaks, a pause before Nylie bows her head,"I will play as you ask, though such a song as you ask will end in song. For never have I been able to hide within the song." It always showed to much of herself when she sang, it was the truth of why her voice was so rarely heard raised to such. Her smokey eyes flicker towards the young man when there is name as well mention of Viri. Noting softly,"Music has no boundries." Her gaze comes back to the white haired woman when the words are repeated, the intensity and insistence she is the siren. "I will play, and we will see, aye?"

"Aye. We will see," Marion agrees. "Perhaps you and we will see more than you expect in your song, Nylie. Some people bring the world to us through their words, some through pictures, some through other arts. Your music will fill you, if you will allow it, so completely that you overflow with it like a fountain overflowing with cool water. It is not separate from you, but an expression of you, of what you have seen, and what you know in your heart. Music can heal and it can warn for those who are its true children." His bright yet intent eyes fix on Nylie while he speaks. "Many gifts come, but they come for a unity of purpose." He lifts a hand to take the apple cake from the old woman. "Thank you, grandmother. Please save some for Varis. I am sure that she should return soon from tethering our girls." Without shifting his gaze from Nylie, he questions, "Did you walk here, or do you have a mount? If you walked, your travel to the great forest will be slow. You are welcome to ride with us if you wish."

"I will say the daughter of Sheat a piece, she will need it in the coming months." The old woman says to the man. "You should winter closer to us." She adds.

Then she smiles as a child about the age of two breaks free from one of the woman. The child's hair as red as woman who was with Marion and her eyes just as blue throws herself at the man who is sitting there and she crawls into his lap. Like any good child her eyes grow wide as she begs for cake from him.

"Now you must have many questions, you can ask and I will answer and what I cannot answer you will learn about in time." The woman smiles brightly when she says that.

The camp is now filled with the smell of cooking and there is a sense of sense of family there.

A small nod comes from Nylie as she listens to his words, some part of her knowing the truth of them. Her music was as much of her as she was of it, she had seen that fully not long ago. Her eyebrows rise a little,"For what purpose do they come?" Seeing the stew finished through the course of listening to the pair. His question has her pausing as if trying to recall just how it was she did get here to the clearing. "I had walked," is her eventual answer,"it makes the journey longer, slower, but it allows more to be taken in. Time to reflect upon the path, not just the destination."

Nylie gives a small nod, setting aside the emptied bowl, there were questions….some she wasn't even sure how to voice. "You say I am the siren, he asked if I was the one. Was I so sought or waited for? For this? " A small breathe,"I have seen the effects of music, felt of them in the smaller ways spoken. If I am as you say….and awaken to this….what is my purpose in it all? My place in this..unity." There is a pause as she recalls some mention of her brother, of being awakened and a flicker of a smile comes as she asks,"Shall my hair come to match my brothers?" Perhaps some hint of amusement to the idea, her darker locks had been a stark difference to both his red and white colorings.

Marion turns when the little girl with flame-red hair scampers toward him. She runs well for a child of her age, with arms outstretched for balance, and a broad grin on her face. When she arrives, Marion sweeps her into his arms and settles her into his lap after hugging her tightly for a moment. He reaches for the plate at his feet while he looks at the girl. He sniffs and then nods. "You've had your supper already. I can tell." He sets the plate on his knee and halves the cake, giving her a piece to enjoy while he looks to Nylie. "Dark times lie ahead," he predicts, apparently without worry about frightening the little girl. "In dark times, men often need song to refresh their souls, just as they need salves and potions to mend their bodies. You do well to follow a path that allows you to notice the little things. If you wish to continue that path alone, then we will pray for your safekeeping. If you wish to join us on our way to the great Forest, we will welcome you." His eyes shift to the old woman and he smiles. "As you know, we wanted to help the Illuminated, and so spread word that people of our kind are nearby and willing to help those who have need. They are learning to trust. Perhaps we should winter deeper in the forest. Let us see how Varis answers."

"Nay he walks a different path, your path is your path. Your path will be defined by you. His will be defined by him." The woman says with a smile. "Even after you learn you still have choices to make. The times are dark, but even with the dark there comes a time when there is light." She says softly to her. "There are always choices for now this is both a time of learning and a time of choice. You are at the cross roads. It is also a time of learning."

The little girl cuddles against Marion and happily takes the cake with a impish smile on her face but shy around a stranger and she does not speak instead she focuses on the treat.

A light smile comes to what the little girl as she scampers over and into his lap. The interaction between the pair, a bit of mirth sparking her eyes at the sniff and comment about dinner. The smile smooths away at his words that come, giving a faint nod,"They have started, if only just." Even if she knew not what was to come, there had been a compounding of events….the things….events in the past days. "So as the healers would see to the bodies of men, I am to see to their souls?" Half question, half statement. "I would ask if that was not what the Illuminated are tasked to….yet I know they do not reach all and music reaches further then they can." Giving another bit of a nod,"Sometimes it is important to take in the little things, for they can be as important as the biggest of them. My path goes as it seems to need, perhaps I have company now because I should not travel alone when it is taken up again in the morning."

Nylies gaze drifting to the old woman as her words come to the questions at hand and paths are yet spoken of. "Our paths have always been different, where we needed to be, what we needed to be. " Nylie gives a faint smile,"To learn is a choice of its own. But if but a turn of music can bring hope or light within times of dark, and music is what I am….the choice is one easy to be made. Even if there are questions that I do not think to ask and should, or would come and find no answer. "

A soft smile is offered to the little girl as she shyly snacks away on that bit of cake. "Hello there, and what do you think, do you enjoy a turn of music?"

"You are a channel for music have you heard of the story of the Siren in Dairfield?" The woman asks her. She looks to Marion and then to Nylie.

The little girl nods her head in response and she holds out a piece of her apple cake to Nylie. She is content to remain sitting with him.

Marion takes a bite of his piece of apple cake. When Nylie asks about her role, he smiles and shakes his head. "That is one possibility, but only one, Nylie," he emphasizes. "The gods will bring you to a time and place, and you will know that you must choose what to do. We cannot choose for you, but we can assure you that these things do not happen without reason."

Nylie gives a small shake of her head at the question,"Nay, I have not…or least I do not recall the story of the Siren of Darfield. " Leaning a touch to accept the offered piece of apple cake from the little girl,"Thank you, then perhaps I will play something for you tonight." She offers a slight nod towards Marion,"There does always seem reason for everything, even if it is not something we can see of. I shall only hope then that I choose what is right when the time would come."

"The story goes that on the beaches of Dairfeild something appears and every so often you can hear a voice that sings. The voice can bring a person to tears or fill them with joy. That same voice can also lure people to their death." The woman tells her. "You are not like that but you have the ability to do that." She explains. "It is through your will."

A slight blink comes from Nylie at that, surprised and for various reasons. Perhaps some flickering memories about what was heard concerning certain deaths that had occured about the beach. Giving a shake of her head to not dwell upon such matters. Nodding just a touch,"Though my will and spirit, aye?"

Now that the little girl has had her snack, her head is nodding and her eyelids are heavy. She shifts to curl into Marion's lap and rest her head against his chest. Marion slips an arm around her to offer support. Then he inclines his head to Nylie. "Aye," he answers. "Those who fall prey to the Siren are weak in spirit and lacking in hope," he explains. Then he lifts his other hand to wag a cautionary finger in the air. "Remember that the moment of choice might come at a time that you do not expect, and it might come while you are waking or sleep."

"The siren is you but not you." The woman explains. "You have a choice do you use it for good or do you use it other means. How you use it will determin that path." The old woman rises to take the empty bowls back to wagon to be cleaned later.

Brows scrunch together a little bit before Nylie nods,"Sometimes it is hard to be certain what is good or what may be considered to be other means. " Simply nodding on to the words of who fall prey to the Siren. There is a faint turn of a smile,"Many moments of choice come when least expected. And every path is a series of choices. Sometimes once, I think we do not realize we are making. I can only hope to make the right choices and that my eyes are open to see them when they come." Bites of the cake shared from the little one taken as her other hand faintly fingers the flute she had carried over before the meal and chat began.

While the old woman carries away the dishes, Marion cocks his head to one side and studies Nylie in silence, as if examining her from a different angle, not only on a physical level, but in his mind. He takes a slow, deep breath. Then, in a ponderous tone, he muses, "Some find … guidance from unexpected sources, and in some cases, desperation is the light that drives us to see our path. As grandmother mentiond, I am of Viri, although I also am of Dair. Perhaps you know who will guide you. Perhaps that discovery lies in your future. If you have met someone who seemed … more than mortal, consider that meeting, what words you exchanged, and what came of it. You might find some, or all, of your answers there."

"I…would think to say Lughdon would be my guide. Perhaps that is true, perhaps, as you say, it is something I will yet discover in the path before me." Nylie gives a little nod after finishing off the bit of cake, the flute settled more fully to her lap. "I…will think and consider if such an encounter has been had, and the encounter. Dream or waking."

The old woman returns now that she is free from her dishes. She smiles softly towards each of them. "Are you ready to try to show us your music?" The woman asks her. She moves to settle herself on the log. Her brightly colored skirts are arranged around her. Her eyes shine brightly. "Ready to feel what is in your blood and in your spirit?" She asks her.

The small red haired woman appears. She moves to get the child. "I will put her washed up and put to bed. Or would you like her company for the music?" The woman asks Marion as she bends over him. She looks towards Nylie with her dancing eyes.

The toddler, half-asleep already after the cake, shifts on Marion's lap for more comfort. She pulls her little legs into his lap and she wraps her arms around his neck while she rests her head on his shoulder. When the old woman arrives and attempts to coax Nylie to play, Marion grins up to her and then looks to the stranger. "Close your eyes. Listen with your heart to Lughdon. Perhaps he will give a song to you, so that you might share it with us." His eyes shift to the petite redhead who returns from tending the horses. He extends one hand to her and answers, "My love, Rose has settled for now. Unless you want her to sing, I think that she should remain. Sit with us, unless you are weary and wish to rest. Our new friend might discover a song that lies deep within her, and share it with us. Then we might share in her joy."

A warm smile is given by Nylie to the old woman when she rejoins them. "Aye, I am ready to show you. " The flute being lifted a little as both hands settle upon it. " It was never my best, but the flute was always easier to travel with. But….aye….I am ready." Some curiosity had on just what might come, perhaps a little trepidation as well. Such was the way in facing a potential unknown.

A smile is offered along to the red haired woman when she returns, a gentle incline of her head. Nylie giving a nod to Marion at his advice, before she raises the instrument to her lips. A quiet breathe drawn before she does close her eyes, her mind drifting to the thought of Lughdon which leads on to the song heard then. The soft notes soon coming out as they are played of the delicate tune of time and journey, of forgetting and remembering…her fingers moving to ease the notes from the flute. Her mind trying to let go and allow her to truly play the piece, not just remember it.

The woman smiles. "Nay I will let her rest with you. There is no need to waken the banshee." The woman says cheerfully as she moves to sit next to him. She rests her head upon his other shoulder. Her brilliant blue eyes rest upon Nylie as she watches her and listens.

The old woman's watch Nylie with the same bright eyes. There is a sense that in this moment time has come to a halt and the world is holding its breath.

With a nod, Marion welcomes the woman. Now that she is sitting beside him and close to the toddler, the resemblance between daughter is unmistakable. A warm smile spreads over his face when the woman cuddles next to him. "We have been talking about gifts, traveling, and learning," he murmurs, as if the few words are all that the woman needs to guess the gist of the conversation. "Now, Nylie has agreed to play for us, and we are waiting to see what will unfold." The other people in the camp, their horses, and even the forest around them seem to fall to a hush, as if the whole world is in anticipation of the performance.

There is just a flicker of eye movement as her eyes close to hear how the child is referenced, but considering the words used in regards to her, her brother…..It is perhaps not so odd. Especially in the company being kept this night. The comparable resemblance only confirming the thoughts early on of the trio being a small family unit amongst the larger group as a whole.

The music flowed easily from the flute, slow and melodic. There was not a time that Nylie could truly recall when music had not been a part of her life, it simply had always been there and now was little different. The sorrowful little tune spinning out as she had heard it that night, but as she played on and allowed the music to simply flow, to not think and consider it but allow as she had been told in times before, as well as this eve….to follow her heart, to allow it and her spirit to drive what comes. Thus the song is soon becoming more her own, the sorrow and depth of pain her spirit has know seeping into the music, the sadness of lose, the feeling of despair and emptiness that comes in such times.

And yet the song continues through becoming something more, deeper as Nylie does giver herself over to the music. The song no longer telling a journey but a journey itself. The dance of hope and warmth flickering into the emotion the sings out withing the music. A lightness starting to color the agony that had claimed the tune so fully. Building into something more and greater simple song, becoming an opus. Feelings continue to shift and change those that come in the warmth of understanding and love….of being enveloped by friends and family. The joy and exhilaration of finding life and happiness again, of ones heart truly soaring to endless heights after having sunk to such depths of despair. Of having found dreams not even dreamt. And some where along the way the flute was found insufficient to convey all that her spirit found to to give to the music, her voice having seamlessly replace the wordless song that came first from the flute.

Varis the redhead sits next to Marion and when the music tells of heartache and the journey tears fill those expressive blue eyes of hers. She turns her head into Marion's shoulder to hide her tears. She is lost in the music as the emotions washes over her. Nylie's voice and feelings are heard in the music itself. When the music becomes more light hearted she moves her head away from Marion and she wipes her eyes on the edge of her sleeve as she continues to listen. The little girl remains asleep in Marion's arms.

The old woman on the other hand cries silently. Other have stopped eating and talking and are turning their attention towards Nylie. The music holds a number of them captivated.

The song slowly finds a way to an end, the last notes lingering before the fade into the trees about the clearing. The end a turn of hope to it for the continuation of the happiness and warmth found within the days that had come. There is a pause as a breathe is simply drawn by Nylie once the song does find an end, eventually opening her eyes again. It had been a song liek she had not sung before, nothing had been held in reserve, nothing hidden away.

While he cuddles Varis against his shoulder, Marion watches, listens, and smiles, although the smile has a sadness to it when Nylie's playing expresses her own sadness. When Varis raises her head and wipes away the tears, Marion leans to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. "As water helps the flowers to bloom, tears help our joys to blossom," he murmurs. He looks to the white-haired old woman and nods slowly, as if they together understand something that others might not share. His dark eyes roam slowly from face to face, noting the expressions that Nylie's music draws. Others in nthe camp, even the animals, are silent as if they, too, are listening. From high above the campfire, a large nut falls. Marion tips his head to retrace the nut's path, and he sees a large white squirrel perching on a limb. The squirrel's front paws are in position as if it was holding something that fell.

It takes a while for Varis to find her voice but when she does it is choked full of emotion. "You music is just lovely, it is true essence of emotion and music." She says softly. The kiss on her cheek has her looking up at him and smiling. "I feel like I am feeling your pain and you are feeling mine. Your joy is my joy, your pain is mine." She talks in a gentle voice. She moves to wrap her arms around him. Her eyes look curiously at the tree nut.

The old woman weeps openly. Her eyes are bright with tears that have been shed. The music fills her and when it turns to joy she smiles and the smile grows brighter. When the song comes to an end she looks to Marion and she nods her head.

The camp fire as dampen and quieted. It is burns low. Only when she begins to play and bring joy and hope back does it begin to grow bright again.

It had taken the lose and spirallying dispair for Nylie to see and understand, to feel such joy and warmth. To see the full depth of her loneliness, the missing pieces of her life. Even if some were yet being sought. It was a journey. Her eyes looking to the immediate group once opened, though they are lifting up a little with a turn of surprise when the nut comes falling down. The noise standing out with the quiet that had fallen. Eyebrows raising just a touch to spy that large white critter up on that limb. Surely…it's not the same one?

Nylie's eyes dropp back as she gives a nod to Varis, murmuring softly,"Thank you…I kept thought from it and just let the music…flow as it wished." A smile coming, here eyes shifting a little to take in the small silent exchange that seems to pass between the old woman and Marion.

"In all of my short years I have never heard such a lovely music. I have never in my life been brought to tear or felt what the player was feeling. My dear your heart made mine sing." The fire is now dancing and its snaps and crackles as it consumes its fuel. There is warmth now and the clearing is starting to come alive. Many are watching her in awe and others are smiling.

The old woman grins and holds her arms out to her. "Daughter! You are awaken!"

"Kings and princes have lived and died without hearing such sweet and true music, Lady Nylie," Marion comments in a solemn yet warm tome after he lowers his eyes from the squirrel. "Your song reaches across time to gladden and heal hearts, and to wake many who sleep. As you see, it happened when you surrendered to it, trusting it to lead you, allowing it to unlock doors that you could not open by your own strength. You opened doors in yourself, and in others." He sweeps his eyes around the area, indicating the others who are now looking toward the fire, toward Nylie.

Nylie's eyes do take in the change of the fire, a small blink perhaps in seeing the words become truth and reality. "I have…at times, once or twice, allowed myself to flow into the song and allowed the other to know of the feelings. I know not if they have truly felt though." Her head dipping to Marion,"Thank you, I…had never thought to have such an impact with my music. I know it was enjoyed…but not the power that could exist witin it. " HEr eyes taking in the others beyond the fire, the looks that had come this way, the lingering touches of emotions upon their expression. It was one thing to know, another thing to behold the actual reality. Easily shifting from her seat though to move to the open arms of the old woman, giving a hug. A glistening to Nylie's eyes, she had not been untouched by her own performance, reliving each of the moments herself.

The old woman holds Nylie close to her. "There my sweet daughter, allow yourself to feel. Continue to allow that music to feel for you. No matter what, we are here with you. You are never alone. When you close your eyes you will find us. You are a traveler, your blood sings. You are awakening as the world around you has. You are part of the seasons once more." The woman continues to hold her in the warm loving embrace as if Nylie was her daughter or granddaughter. "Old and new are coming together, feel and see my dearest." She tells her. "Remember us and the music."

The young woman sitting with Marion offers her a brilliant smile. "Until we meet again good sister." The woman tells her. Her then move to the old woman, "She has yet to be reborn but she will be and you will meet her again." Her gaze then goes to Marion. "It is time for us to put our Red Rose to bed."

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