Asharlyn knelt before the stone doors entering a dream state not of her making. In it she stood there waiting then cried out, “Why should I touch the stones? Who are you?” Asharlyn thought to herself, “This place located near the top of the spine of the world appeared out of place, something meant to be hidden.” No reply, so she thought to herself, “ Who has built it? Why was it built here so high above the rest of the world? Why did it look abandoned?”
She slowly extended her hand towards the runes on one of the stones, she gently slid her fingers along the edges of its carved trenches. The symbol responded to her touch with a tone. Then a hue of colored light appeared along its edges.
She contemplated it’s ancient doors and why they responded to touch. “Was there some unknown connection between her parent’s past and this place?” Asharlyn thought, “So much of that time was hidden through a veil of pain, one that replaced all memories with just one, being alone, forgotten, lost within herself.” She thought briefly, “Why was this happening and do they sing for anyone? Or maybe…” Then, in frustration with tears that began to roll down her cheeks and freeze into ice. There had been no reply, so she stood up looked around as if to leave. Suddenly a voice cried to her, “Wait daughter!”
Asharlyn cried out, “What did you call me? I have only one mother!” She was taken from me long ago. Who are you? What are you?” The wind was brutally cold, and the snow flew all around her now. It clung to her tattered clothes to form a thin shell of ice along the edges of its torn threads. The bitter weather was pulling the life from her, she was exhausted. Suddenly the voice replied, “We know, come touch us, hear the words that wait to be sung, we await for you inside!”
Without warning, a blast of cold wind knocked her back against the door. She reached with her hands extended behind her to brace herself against the impact she knew was coming. As her hands landed against some of the runic symbols they came alive with a chord of sounds that spoke unfamiliar words, “Mon Hi Los Dez!”
She was almost spent from the impact of the force hitting the door. She slid down to the ground with an explosion of snow that lifted into the air from the force of her landing in the drifts that had formed all around the doorway.
She felt her conscious began to fade, “What! What does that mean?” A soft response replied, “Daughter, you are destined!”
Her sense of the world around her was fading beyond defiance to need. The last tears of her soul leaked from her closed eyes and were flung outward by the strong winds. They turned into a frozen essence mid-stream before crashing against the doors. A chorus of song and light arose around her. “Hofkiin Hin Tey Saraan!” Then she faintly heard, “Home, your story awaits…” The doors swung inward, warmth rushed forward toward her frozen form. As the tendrils of the heat began to thaw her she shifted and dropped to her hands and knees.
She crawled her way into a darkened entry and a second door. She felt something, a spark, a note within her began to swell in sound. She opened her cracked and parched lips and a tongue she was unfamiliar with sprang forth, “Sil Do Vahzen!” This single door before her sprang alive with color, warmth, and a chord full of harmony and recognition. Their tones calmed the inner turmoil of her soul. Then she heard again, “Touch us daughter, heart of truth!”
She drew forth the last reserves of her strength and touched the symbols etched deeply within this door. An explosion of light so bright it almost blinded her briefly and turned night into day. The door rolled inward a melody of smells, warmth, and comfort rushed around her. Asharlyn stumbled into a large room, a chapel maybe or something like it, then she collapsed and all went dark.