It was as silent as winter with the occasional breeze, impelling the clouds to pass like wildfire overhead. An omen to the trees and flowers to hide away and prepare for an oncoming storm. The leaves, a reminder of death as they were blown past like a tumble weed in a wasteland. If watched closely they were dancers in a ballet. The trees with their leafless branches reached down their skeleton hands to clutch at their flesh. It was too late, their souls were unrestrained, free from the hands from which they grew.

Few sounds were heard. The tapping of the dancers on the ground. The lamentation of the titans for their souls. The wind grew stronger, but the bodies of the leviathans never faltered, it was the graceful swaying of arms, like mortals did when they walked. One of the dancers pivoted and tangled in a weed from the subterrane, but this was no weed. It was a mere child, twisted among dancers and their audience. Her hair was set perfectly, as if it grew from the earth, and perhaps she did.

As the pale moon sprung from out the clouds, it threw the eclipse of the colossus around her, upon the dance floor. They must have believed she was apart of them, too. Her gown was soaked with dew and soiled. Her long dark roots clung to the land for morecondensation. Yet, the radiance of the moon illuminated her ashen skin, and as the opacity reached to pull her back into the earth, her emeralds fluttered open and pierced the night.

The trees were amazed at this beauty, this was a flower, not an intruder. The youth raised from the ground, tearing her roots from the earth. The dancers and the shadows clung to her, not wanting this beauty to blossom. The giants whispered, she could hear. She walked along the path shivering in fear at the voices. They did not belong to nature, the belonged to the confalagrants that had placed her here. The goliaths whispered for them and this frightened her. These giants controlled by the fires: Their voices echoing in the deep.

"The time has arrived..." One hissed. Keep going, don't listen.

"My innocent one." Oh her voice was sickening, too beautiful.

"To whisper," a pause in her voice, "many things." This was stated stoically.

"Of death."

"And ruin."

"And... extinction." A trade of the flames voices, and the last in unison, this was surely said with a smirk upon their faces. The child spoke to herself, closing her eyes, repeating to herself it wasn't real. She ran faster tripping over the giant's legs, and her own.

"Your bloodied angel wings." The visions of the wings that hung so loosely from the trees haunted her. Bones dripping, snapped in two, or more. She froze in her step, she felt they were near. Their whispers were more hurried, their hunger was vibrating through the air with its own whispers.

"And why the bloods runs so slickly..."

"Of those our teeth will sting!" Daggers brilliantly sparkled in the shadows. The blazes leaning on the giants, showing their fangs to the world. Their mouths turned heavenward, laughing. The innocent's mouth and eyes opened to scream as the two infernos lunged at her once more. Ripping and tearing at her neck, pinning her to ground, watching her twist beneath them. Her heart pounding, her eyes raining, her mouth shaping consonants and vowels that they couldn't hear. At last she was still, staring into the eyes of the blazes, and their mouths opened wide coming in for the last strike, was the last vision of the innocent before her eyes closed.

Darkness; her eyes began to focus, desperately her feeble hands clutched at her neck. No dampness, nothing but the cold sweat that was covering her. Was she alive, or was she dead? Was she trapped in the middle realm between the mortal life, and immortal death, Limbo they had called it. Surely not, it had only been a dream, or surely she was mad.