“Thank you for your visit. But I will be alright here.” Arlun sighed as Ytha stood in the door. “Father, you are not the youngest, we could take care of you in the village.” she tried once more to persuade her father to come to the village with her. “I can still hunt, I can gather roots and berries, even the pixie berries your brother so loves. I’ll be fine.” he smirked, in his eyes she could read that he was both lying and immensely sad.

Slowly mist rose from around the tiny cabin her father lived in, increasing his nervousness. “Hurry home now.” he sighed, obviously wanting her far from his cabin.

With a terrifying shriek a figure arose out of the mist making Ytha jump away from it a few inches. “You can’t stay! Run home!” Arlun urged her to run, a plea he had not to repeat, originally Ytha thought her father closely behind herself but noticed after a few moments he had stayed at the cabin. “You can’t have her!” he barked at the forming figure in the mist, slowly gaining the shape of a woman, bone like arms, torn clothes, her hair was wild almost feral.

Ytha recognized the figure as a Holler, other Albin and humans called them Banshee.

As she wanted to open her mouth and call for father to run as well, Arlun opened his arms, a gesture she had not seen him do since her childhood, his gown slid open, revealing a hole in his chest that seemed to be filled with the same ethereal mist as the Banshee in front of him. “Come home, Ythren.” he sighed, clearly weeping.