The Sentinels waken all ye into life

Emaleth had awoken.

As she left the confines of her family's den, the dark child saw the world with a renewed wonder in its mysteries; it was as if a mist had been cleared after a long journey, and it now parted to present a realm enchanted. She did not remember, but a sickness had briefly taken her shortly after her coming to the world-- and though little Emaleth had grown and developed alongside her lighter sister, she had been vacant and fogged ever since. Even as she had recovered, even as she learned to speak, even as chaos had swirled within her home's borders, the young witch had been disassociated and internally removed from it all.

But this morning, upon waking, a vision left over from dreams swirled in her mind. It parted the mists. Even now, her memory of it crumbled, but in its destruction the child began to See and Feel in a way that she had only done in lives before. As spring began to erupt from the frigid cast of winter, little Emaleth's own magick began to seep into her fibers and wake her to its presence.

For now, the child padded quietly through the tall sentinels of Donnelaith, her mismatched eyes wide in wonder.

The other witch he had not seen or felt until this day. As he flew, he felt the forests eye upon not simply one, but two. He did not delay in his travels; he moved toward her with curiosity alive in his heart. And when he found her traveling with wide-eyed wonder, he descended as he had done with Deirdre upon a branch just ahead of her, and tilted his head. We see that you see, little one, came his low voice, though he said nothing more.

She delighted as a large swooped above her and settled amongst branches just ahead; little Emaleth danced a small jig, yipping excitedly. "Bird!" she cried, proud to know what this creature was, though the further categorizations and specifications of non-wolves yet escaped her. It made a sound that startled her, and the dark child froze in her celebrations to stare up at it in wonder. She did not understand the song-like dialect, though there was one word that the child recognized— just barely. "See?" Emaleth queried after a pause, small eyebrows furrowed.

The young girl identified him, and he tilted his head ever so slightly as he listened to her. In this flesh, he rejoined her pleasant lilt in the deep voice of his own. He was not simply 'bird' or 'owl'; for he harbored something within him, too, many lifetimes that he was aware of. Pharaoh, King, Peasant, Slave. Those within him sought to find what was within her, but that they could not see! Their eyes saw what her eyes did; she revealed to him her magics in her display. The babe paused in her skipping-steps, and he hooted back to her: See. Your eyes have only just begun their opening. It meant that she had a strength within her, too; Taltos must father this witch, that she was so strong herself. That her eyes might be opening now. Who are you? He tested, his bright eyes watchful and without mirth on her frame.

"Who!" she cried, and giggled. It was the only word that she could truly grasp in the owl's trilling coos, for he spoke a language very different than that she shared with her sister and parents. Not knowing the auspiciousness of the event, or the magicks within the aerial predator, the child continued on her way through the tall sentinels— watching them awaken into spring with a newfound wonder, listening to their whispers as snow and ice fell away.