Safe keeper. That was the title she was charged with so long ago. Her pale blue eyes were eerie as she steadily gazed at the clearing. Her skin was pale, glowing softly in the shadows. Her hair was long and wavy, a waterfall of shimmering shades of silver. Her white dress was plain; the square cut neckline exposing her collarbones, the dress clinging to her figure, and floating around her legs like mist. She held the skirt in one fistful of foggy fabric. Her steps left no marks as she wandered between the pools. Her eyes fell on the old marble archway, and the mist veil that hung suspended within. She stepped through the swirling pattern of fog, and emerged in the mortal world.

The forest was odd here. The one in Nakatcha was empty, yes, but the trees themselves held presence. The trees here were empty, the air still. The clank of chains disturbed that, and a few birds flew off, screeching. The woman stood still, a few yards from the arch, her wrist in a shackle, the chain pulled taught from the marble arch. She gave the forest one last look, and then turned and disappeared through the portal and back to her prison.

She wandered past the pools and to the far side of the clearing, free of chains now she was in Nakatcha. She lifted herself onto a low branch and nestled there, eyes trained on the clearing, watching the pools and the gate.