(12 Lormesta 5115: The Landing)
The vigil began in the late hours as she poured her heart out to the altar at the shrine. Notions she had barely dared to think, let alone hope for, poured through her mind as she gave them up to the Lord of Dreams. During murmured weeping, she lay bare her soul.
She crumpled against the dark altar after some time, giving in to the beckoning, compelling eyes. His eyes. Soaring into a dream-state, she heard a soft melody. It was lyrical, deep, and she could not help but follow it.
She followed the tune into each of the folding ripples that echoed in her mind, into every dark eddy, and up into the brilliant, sparkling tips of the waves. It was glorious, and shone into the starlit place as nothing she had ever heard. It refreshed her worried heart, and brought her to a place of peace and faith.
As the song trailed off, a voice, His voice, came soft as a butterfly’s kiss upon her consciousness, “Fear not the night, for it is in darkness that hope is born.”
And she awoke, refreshed, curled at the foot of the altar. Offering her thanks, she once again saw the sign rippling across the water in the font.
As she stepped back out to the shore of Dreams, she was surprised to see the sun high in the sky. The song’s imprint, still fresh upon her heart, was already elusive. But she would find it one day, she knew, and set it free.
