The mists can be a strange place at times. A well placed skeleton and a balding priest later, I had arrived. My body was still intact. My adventerous past seemed to be never ending. Always catching up with me.

I tucked Comoara in a small pocket of my robe and continued my venture forward. No one would notice a small ring and care in these lands. My mind was finally beginning to feel peace. Without warning, a voice of kindness entered my head, "Greetings, Priestess". How did they find me? This can't be. I'm tired of games, tired of trying to fight. Tired of losing. I responded with a quip, "Fine, thanks." The voice continued to pester, "Have you made it through the mists yet?" What is this place and who in their right mind is talking to me? What do they want?

What do you care of how it began? These aren't the true beginnings anyways. Let us greet each other once more. My name is Julianna, though only my mother would call me by that name. I typically go by Jules, Juli, that girl. I'm not from around here. I'm from There.

In my youth, my great-great-grandfather gave me a gift. It was an intricately carved ring made of his finest metals. He placed it on my left hand and told me gently, "This is Comoara." Back in those days, a gift from a well-known jeweler was named. As the item was passed down through generations, the name stayed with the prized possession. Easier for the scribes to keep track of inventories if you ask me. I asked my grandfather what the name meant but he shook his head and looked skyward. "I'll tell you a story in the morning, dear. It's too late now."

The next morning came and with it the toll of death rang through the village streets.

I never heard the story of Comoara.

Years passed and I grew older. I was a hunter, a Priestess - the best in my field. Our village was filled with horrors not seen elsewhere. A core group of us were sent to keep the village safe, the elders informed.

During one mission, I was sent with my mate to intercept a dealing of souls. The Dark Lords had struck a deal amongst themselves. The sacrifices had already been taken. Our elders didn't have time to hesitate. The plan was simple: Get in. Drop a box. Get out. You learn not to mess with these things if you expect to see your children grow old.

Together, my mate and I entered. The black silk box was clasped tightly under his arm. We set it on the tile floor and I began a prayer. Just as the first words left my mouth, the box opened.

I was in a room alone. The pain I felt as the streamers of light left that box.. no words could ever know. Staring at a wooden picnic table before me, I took a seat, drained. Two huge ropes spanned the entirety of the space. One glowed a brillian silver that shimmered. The other was a rainbow of twisted colors that began to pulse. I could have sworn if was my own pulse, but feeling my wrist I felt nothing.

Wait.

How could this be? How did I die and What is tha----?

"GREETINGS, Julianna!", came the deepest and loudest voice I had ever heard. AS I peered into the darkness and responded, "Uhm, Yes? Greetings." The voice boomed, "It is time for you to make a decision. See that there?" My eyes focused on the shimmering silver rope and I nodded. "It will take you back to your mate. The other will.. You'll find out on your own." Without hesitation, I clung to the silver rope. I fought every frustration and tear. Nothing happened. I'd failed in whatever that room held for me because in that instant I expected to see my mate, I was flung elsewhere.

I would visit this room often as time progressed. I was stronger now. Knew to expect the unexpected. The voice within the room of twisted ropes, The Nether, continued to speak to me even when I wasn't within the room. I'm starting to think he was actually a figure of my imagination. Something I came up with in my time of need and angst. This is how I ended up in Thera. In the mists. Still holding my grandfathers ring, Comoara and wondering who would watch over it.

The gentle voice that greeted me within the mists that fated day belonged to Tolinor. He introduced me to Lord Morrbway's religion of Hope and to the griffon Talvalin. As Theran years passed, our faith grew stronger. In no time, I had trusted Talvalin with Comoara. With my soul. If something were to ever happen to that black feathered half bird half panther, we'd both be in some serious trouble.

Time continued to run rampant in this new world, Thera. I needed to find my purpose. While it rested within Lord Morrbway's faith, it also rested in finding someone with the greatest need in Thera. Someone that was unreachable. Untouchable. To offer them guidance and to be a shoulder for them to lean on. It was my purpose. I found that someone in Jeriath. He was always in the shadows, always a mystery. I offered him a bond. For me to become his Harvnim (guide) and for him to become my Charncla. The strength and directions of this bond are not even truly known to those who mold it. We were going to figure it out.

I chose poorly.

A figure approached Talvalin years later. He was cloaked in a heavy cowl, hunched over with age. The man claimed to be a jeweler and wished a look at my ring, Talvalin's burden, Comoara. When Talvalin refused, Jeriath emerged from the cowl. He stood and demanded the ring. He held no regard for me for the griffon or for anything else.

A fight began. Talvalin, backed by Lord Morrbway's strength fought Jeriath with what he could above the cloud city. How long was a mortal to last? He wasn't meant to. As Talvalin drew his final breath, I took mine. We both died as the ring was sliced from Tal's claw.

Not to my surprise, we ended up within the Nether. This time though, several ropes of different colors twirled in multiple directions. Morrbway was there with us. The choice was easy. Talvalin would re-enter the world of Thera and I would move on (maybe) to my next destination, this one a failed mission. Talvalin refused and gave his life force that I may continue to live. With that, I catapulted to the Heavens. Talvalin's sacrifice will never be forgotten.

As I write now I can only think back on the lives I've lead and the people within them. I ponder Fate, Destiny, and the interchangeablity of the two terms. Was Talvalin meant to die in my stead? Was Tolinor urged to speak with me by some other force within the mists? Time will tell, the threads of time always weaving.

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