Ilse
[WIP]
Backstory
She awoke. Or perhaps she slumbered. The world unfolded like a dream before her. Mounds of white at her back. An expanse of blue beneath her. No, above her. She was flying… no, that’s not right. She was falling. Is there a difference? There must be. Fear and joy are not the same. She must protect them from fear. Her form shook. The billowing softness that swaddled her was deeply cold, but she remained warm within its embrace.
Slow was the rise and fall of that ancient chest that waited for death upon the mountain’s peak. Eyes closed in unwitting supplication. Each day passed like an age within her mind, her body burdened by the weight of history unknown. The day she knew death had passed her over, she rose to her feet. The world unfolded before her. Ripples of tan flattening to the expanse of a vast desert. A hint of green to the far north, the smell of rich dank earth. To the south, flashing sunlight refracting on glistening waves. The taste of salt borne on a breeze across the water whose refreshing coolness would not survive the heat of the ever-shifting sands of another sea.
Since her awakening, Ilse has made the mountains her home. Occasionally she makes her way down to the plains to trade with the goblins of the Crimson Pact. They seem to fear and respect her, so she finds no quarrel with them. Perhaps it is due to the stories the elders tell the children about an old woman who time does not dare to touch, who death itself did not claim. Ilse knows nothing of this. She tends to her hermitage, whiling away the years until she can remember why she yet lives.
Children
