A/N Yes, this is a strange chapter. I got a bit excited with writing about the Spirits so don't @ me, I was having fun.

Nura shifts Rephas' arm from around her waist, only the silvery light of the moon illuminating the bedroom as she sits up, her gaze on her husband, making certain he doesn't wake. She stands, bare feet silent on the floorboards as she pulls on a pair of pants and a tunic over her shift. She slips her satchel over her head, grabs her boots and shifts to the door, sparing another glance at Rephas' sleeping form in the bed. Her heart is in her throat as she studies him, his shoulder length hair in disarray from a night of tossing restlessly before he finally settled.

Nura nearly stays, nearly climbs back into bed, nearly embraces herself in his warmth, just to be there when the nightmares come for him again. Because they will.

Nura turns away before she can convince herself to stay.

Outside she puts on her boots, breathing in the icy air that pricks at her skin. She may be part Ice Elf, but the cold still infects her bones and keeps her awake at night.

Nura studies the land before her, ominous and eerie without the light of day to guide her way. A gentle mist presses against the earth, simmering across the pond in the distance as though it crawls from it in wispy sheets. An owl hoots in the distance, guiding her towards the forest. Nura follows it.

She goes on foot with her hand gripping the strap of her satchel and her hasty breaths fogging the air before her face. She clenches her jaw, forcing herself not to go back even when her gaze strays to the cabin she leaves behind.

She's doing this for a reason, she's doing this because it's her duty, not because she has anything to prove.

She's lying to herself.

How long has Nura blamed herself when she couldn't save a life? How hard does it hit her in the chest? Perhaps she is a murderer, and if she is then she has a lot to make up for. Nura has been a healer since before she can remember. She has a lot of blood on her hands to atone for.

The forest envelops her in its cold embrace, whispering against her skin, touching her with cold fingers. Nura shivers and sinks her teeth into her lower lip, her gaze darting through the trees, trying to see the maddened Shadow Elves that lurk within. She can only pray to the Spirits that she doesn't encounter any of them.

Nura walks through the forest, her gaze scouring the ground, searching for the traps that have already ensnared so many of the village's skilled hunters. Her chest tightens as she thinks on this, knowing that if those trained to be aware of such things were still caught in them, then what hope is there for her?

Something brushes against her arm and Nura freezes, her gut lurching. Her eyes stick to the ground and stay there as she waits for whatever it is that touched her to bare its teeth.

A hum sounds in her ear, soft and melodic, like Calla's soft lullabies as she carves a small wooden toy beside Nura. Calming, soothing. It fades into a whisper before it's gone completely.

Nura presses her palms to her eyes until dark splotches crowd her vision. The forest is making her feel things, hear things. It's playing tricks on her mind. At least, that's what Nura tries to tell herself.

As she opens her eyes, a splitting light forms amongst the trees, as though the moon itself has nestled amongst the leaves. It shifts, chasing away the shadows, forcing them to cower. Nura can only gasp as it barrels towards her. Light washes over her, crashing into her chest, and Nura stumbles back, her feet catching on foliage. She tumbles to the ground, landing in wet leaves and sharp sticks. Rocks dig into her palms as she catches herself, breaking the skin. She doesn't notice the pain as she blinks and sees that the light is gone, disappearing as quickly as it came.

Nura's lungs constrict and she can't draw breath. She gasps and chokes, her hands fisting in the rough ground, blood staining the leaves as she sits on the forest floor with her mind whirling and her heart trying to escape her chest.

Then the humming comes again, a tender lapping against her ears, caressing her senses, soothing her.

The light forms again, softer this time, no longer glaring at her with all its glorious opulence. It shifts and writhes, weaving through the trees towards her.

Nura can only stare, her eyes wide, her breath frozen in her throat.

The light narrows, begins to take shape, blending into smooth curves and waves of simmering hair. A woman stands before her, skin like the surface of the moon, the stars embedded in the places where shadows should be. She stands over Nura, her hair swirling in a wind that doesn't touch Nura. Then she lifts a glittering hand, offering it to Nura.

Nura gapes, her eyes watering with the sheer brilliance of looking upon the woman.

"Child," the woman speaks, her voice like a song that wraps around Nura's heart, embracing her in a mother's warmth that she's never felt. "Child of the earth, leave this place."

Nura doesn't hear what the effigy says for a long moment, so focused on the melody of her voice that she can't fathom she speaks real words that Nura should be able to understand.

"Nura." Her name spoken from the woman's lips snaps her back to the moment and she scrambles to her feet, taking a wary step back. "Please, child."

"I need..." Nura begins, her eyelids fluttering as she tries to remember why she came into the forest. The plants, the traps, the vile poison that the Shadow Elves use. That's why she's here. "I need to make a cure."

"Your fate says otherwise." The light floats closer to her. "You will not find what you are looking for in this place."

"What are you?"

The light flares and Nura throws a hand over her eyes, wincing from the brightness. "Leave. They are coming."

"Tell me what you are," Nura demands, her voice rising even as she inches away from the light.

"Time," the woman says with a whisper of a sigh. "The Spirit of Time is what you mortals call me."

Nura's world stops moving. Her fingers tingle and it crawls up her arms. Her knees shake, threatening to buckle.

The creature lies.

Nura lowers a numb hand and gazes upon the woman's intensity.

"But my kind calls me Etianan."

"You're a Spirit?" Nura asks with a choked breath. The woman appears to nod, her floating hair spreading further around her with the movement. Nura's knees give out and she collapses. She may lose consciousness for a moment but the woman's light it too bright for her to really know that.

Nura blinks her eyes open to find herself on her side, her head nestled in a pillow of softness. She looks up to find the woman peering down at her, her gentle fingers sifting through Nura's hair.

Nura is lying in a Spirit's lap as it plays with her hair.

Her head swirls.

"You must live, child of the earth. Your world is bigger than this village."

"They need my help," Nura manages to whisper around the lump in her throat.

"You will help them," the Spirit murmurs, leaning down to look into Nura's gaze, her wispy hair tickling Nura's face. "You will help them all. Just as the Flame did during the war."

Nura's brow creases, old childhood stories rising to the surface in her mind. She can't make sense of any of it, she hardly remember such stories. Her chest fills with an eagerness to hear more of the Spirit's voice, more of her song, replacing the confusion.

"Follow the White Dragon, find the violet-eyed Witch, and stop the Golden One." The Spirit trails a finger down Nura's cheek, leaving behind a path of warmth. "And remember to keep love in your heart." She presses her hand to Nura's chest, spreading the warmth throughout Nura's entire body until her skin prickles with it and the cold of the forest is no more. "But you must leave this place. Now. They are coming for you."

"Who?"

The Spirit smiles, a sad smile of longing and regret. "The lost children of the earth, Life's greatest sorrow. My sister weeps for them still." The Spirit raises her head, casting her gaze to the trees around them. "The White Dragon is close, but he cannot fight them, he loves them as Life does. He understands their misplaced minds."

"You mean the Shadow Elves," Nura breathes.

The Spirit doesn't reply, instead she tilts her head, her light waning. "It's time. Even I am limited in the Realm of Mortals." The Spirit moves, standing and guiding Nura to her feet. Light holds her until her knees no longer wish to crumble, but she still trembles like a leaf in the wind. "Go." The Spirit nudges her back the way she had come, but Nura finds herself reluctant to go.

She wants that warmth to embrace her forever, she wants to hear the song and never let it go. Nura doesn't mind that she can't understand the meaning behind the Spirit's words, she just wants to listen to them.

"Please." The word is broken, carrying the pain of a thousand lives lived.

Nura can't ignore that well of sorrows.

She steps back, her eyes stuck upon the light now that it doesn't seem so harsh or threatening. She takes another step, and then another. Nura turns and with her back to the Spirit, the light fade, dispersing until the shadows enfold the forest again. When Nura looks back, the Spirit gone and the woods cold again.

Nura runs to the cabin before her terror can cripple her.