We present to you a preview of Chapter 2 to tantalize our Watchers. We apologize for taking so long between chapters. As we are working on unique pieces of art to go with each segment, there will be somewhat of a wait in-between. We hope you enjoy this preview and will bear with us as we progress!



The six rays of light touched the center aisle again. Elvish voices praised the heavens in the dulcet haunting hymns of their own language. Just as those last echoes of song faded, Sylven turned again before leaving, searching for just a hint of white, a sign that the angel was there hiding among the white pillars.

There was none. Only sunbeams, dust, and the same empty space.

Sylven sighed as he departed to his chambers. He'd been thinking about her all night and all day, that image of outspread wings haunting him. Why had she come? Where had she gone? It had been too short a meeting for it to end the way that it did. Such things he considered as he carefully removed his raiment and dawned more casual attire, a black sleeveless silk shirt with woven lacing in the front bound by a black sash over simple gray woven pants. Instead of any heavy boot, Sylven donned simple sandals for the evening walk he planned, being much more used to traversing everywhere barefoot or lightly attired thanks to years of practicing his faith with nothing but his own ability to climb with bare feet. For him, touching the earth with his own feet was a ceremony in and of itself.

With the day's passing, he had finally resolved. If she was in the woods, he was going to find her. He had to see that heavenly sight again or it would never leave his mind and the Elf could not bear the eternity of a long-lived life forever asking why he'd been granted such a vision. Just in case he ran into trouble, he kept a pair of silver knives tied in his sash, their blades trimmed with highly polished iron that glittered gold at any faint light. Finally, he stepped out of the cloister and down the path to the forest.

After a half hour of walking, the sun began to dip down behind the horizon casting everything in a warm purple light as he reached the edge of the lake. Sylven sighed and took a seat at the lake's edge, his legs tucked underneath him in a meditative position. Still no sign of her and it was getting darker by the minute. The placid surface of the lake shined like a mirror in front of him reflecting the billowing clouds revealed to the surface from the opening of the white birches and oaks that gathered around the edge. Calmed and completely relaxed, the priest worked himself into a meditative state and began to sing, his crystalline voice carrying across the lake into the mists, praising the sacred light even at the twilight of the day. Sunset had always been his favorite time, that grey moment between dark and light where things both slept and awakened.

Isabelle had been watching him ever since he had stepped out of the church. She had stayed silent and hidden within the thick canopy, holding her breath when he stepped into the woods and right beneath her. She had taken extreme care to not rustle any leaves as she fluttered from tree to tree in following him. Thanks to her soft owl wings designed for flapping with absolute silence, she was able to fly, and land without a sound in the branches. Why was she following him? She had told herself that - despite her heart's longing to see him once more - that she must never come into contact with the Elf ever again. It was dangerous enough meeting with mortals, but returning to one after they knew you were an angel was generally thought of as severely dangerous.

High in a leafy oak, she watched him from across the lake. He sat, closed his eyes, and began to sing...

His voice...that beautiful voice, clearer than the bells of heaven, rose in the twilight air. Nearly entranced with it, Isabelle closed her eyes, and held onto the trunk of the tree for support. After hearing the melody, the chorus, the words, she found herself singing along, in her own sweet soprano....

Sylven heard the voice, but only stopped singing after he finished the verse, so entranced was he by that beautiful soprano, almost like a siren's voice since it seemed to echo from the water itself. His green eyes blinked in surprise that the voice hadn't been a part of a vision or a daydream. Was it real? Was he being tricked again? He had thought these woods mostly empty of Faean influence, but never-the-less, he kept himself aware and quickly passed his eyes across the shining surface of the lake and the trees that bowed over its edges.

"...is someone there?" His voice called over the waters. He simply couldn't bring himself to go into this situation with knives drawn. Even if it was something alien to their territory, he would not wish anything with such a beautiful voice harm and, as such, kept those knives sheathed. "..please, let me see you? I would like to know the origin of such beauty if only to be made richer by the knowledge of it." Sylven implored, hoping that they would answer. Could it be..her?

To be continued