All around the lake was dense forest, only a row a stones allowed for dry passage to the island that rested at the center of the lake. There was only one large building on it, but several open structures, rows and rows of blooming flowers and bushes shrouded the island with a cloud of sweet smell. “The sanctuary lies in autumn.” the man stated as he approached a woman. She had white blind eyes but seemed to see perfectly. “As I feared.” she turned away from him and pointed at a cushioned bench unterneath an open structure that supported a roof. “Did the flame reveal anything, Ferlon?” the man sat down next to her. “The waters at sea will be calm, no harm will ascend from the waves any more.”

Danarien nodded gently, her blind gaze in the distance. “They are not dead I assume?”

“Not all of them.” Ferlon replied, although not blind also staring blank into the distance. “But the gate and sanctum lie in autumn. The leaves seemed like fire, I sense no good of this.” Danarien agreeingly nodded, she turned her head facing across the lake. “The season of the butterfly is close. You should haste to the temple.” a little confused Ferlon turned his head in the same direction. “I shall do so.” he felt Danariens hand on his arm as he attempted to leave. “Time is of the essence.” there was a sense of urgency in her voice and expression. “Understood. Fair day, Danarien.”

Again Ferlon crossed the lake over the stone pillars that were sunk in the deep lake, a glance over his shoulder revealed the island to be shrouded again in a haze of yellow-pink mist. Danarien usually laid that haze over the entire lake to meditate in peace

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