Deepwood Syrinx Miell

Miell may be the youngest in her clan, but she was braver—and some say naiver—than most others. She was reluctant to learn the arts of war, preferring instead to play the melodies of a bygone era of peace. The elders disapproved of her whimsical ways, but let her go nonetheless. At the very least, she might return with some forgotten piece of knowledge that would ensure the survival of their clan in the future. No sooner did her journey begin that Miell felt as if something was calling her deeper into the most shadowed parts of the forest. Broken and charred by the hateful fires of men, the deepwoods were a black, tangled twist of cruel bark and thorns. Not even the hardiest of forest creatures dared to forage there. Pulling out her panpipes, she imitated the sorrowful cadence of that phantom voice, and before long, they began to play in unison. A flood of anguish and loneliness entered her heart, chilling her to her core. The eternal deity was weeping, and it was so heartbreaking that Miell found her own cheeks wet with tears. It was then she knew what was to be done: she played those lost melodies of better days for it. Suddenly, that pinch of loneliness subsided as if in surprise. Heartened by its response, Miell continued her songs. Miell never returned to her clan, and the fauns believed she was felled by some beast or human along the way. But those who skirt the darkwoods find it is not as twisted as they remembered it to be. Beams of sunlight now filter through the gaps in the wilting thorns, and a light blush of budding green can be seen poking through the ashen soil. If you listen carefully, you might just make out the lilting tune of panpipes.