The dirt was as much her friend as the rain. Most of those who dared step foot on the holy soil of this place assumed the water was what gave it the ancient calling it had, the deep powerful ringing in the air. She knew different.

She had ruled over this place for as long as it had been around. Her father, watching her from above. Her mother whipping past her face every cold autumn. She knew every soul that lived on the grounds, every death and birth the second they happened.

Her brothers grew bored of their realms, she knew. She could not find it in herself to grow bored of her own. In the midst of the tug of her heart and the way she walked with the deer in the morning, she could know everything.

This world was her own. She was more than content to stay here, a world free of mortals and their petty wars.

It seemed that as soon as she gave up her wishes to be part of their universe, the more they longed for her. These mortals, constantly tugging on her dress-tails, had to know what they had been doing.

The first had called himself Donno, and at first, she had not minded the songs that broke her peace. He had been the son of the deer, she had thought, his antlers almost as clear as his insecurity.

He was young, unable to realize the reach of his influence. In his little cabin upstream, he had lived peacefully. She had finally gotten a neighbor.

And then the kings came. With their armies and champions ready to kill Donno, she could not do anything to protect her land. When she had finally gotten to the end of her patience, her good neighbor was already gone.

Now all that was left was whispers. Clean, unnatural stumps littered around her paradise. The fear in her children’s eyes when they heard a loud noise.

Once she had realized their affect, she had sworn to herself to put a stop to it. Man was nothing more than an obstacle for her family to play with.

She would not engage if it meant being locked away in a jar for millions of years. Yet, when she saw Tia, it all went down the drain.

What a fool she was.