The Banshee and the drums that accompanied her — By Travis John

The Banshee was a figment. She was born of nothing but a laugh and put unbridled sound. Her smile sweet as nectar from the autumn trees the ghoulish hair and entertwining way she spoke. Her voice caused so much . Havoc, peace and prosperity but it all depended on context. Her life started from a whisper of air willed into by the creator of the 17 forests of Gal’Dor . She was a lone creature. In the beginning and over the course of her endless existence she would hear drums. The drums were symbols. Symbols for what I cannot reveal but the first in the beginning hooked her in. Rhythms and words pulsating through her like the skeletons who met the elves of light she did not understand where she was meant to go. She kept walking and listening. They say it was a clear vision, nay portal into different worlds. She could inhabit them and witness all that transpired in them. But she remained at ease. The drums were loud but never reveal. The mortals have a practice they call meditation and they use it to try and see into the spirit world and things outside the mind and physical. An attempt at communication. The Banshee would do this aswell but she believed that term to be misused. People believe it is accurate but the only way to communicate is to ear. The drums oozing it’s way out of the ears and the pulsating effects course through thee and as the teleportation commences it is evident that you are communicating. The Banshee is the sole entity they communicate with when they meditate. The drums are sounds of the people. Communicating. At times it became overbearing for her but she knew she had to keep walking. She would answer but her voice was so course the mortals perhaps couldn’t hear so it just rings a vibrant hopelessness. The Banshee traveled and walked her whole life with these drums passing in and passing out . She knew it would take a long time. One day she came across a temple. A mortal temple named Kanata that housed many ancient scrolls and stories . She searched for an answer. She wanted to find out how to cease the neverending drums. She found her answer. A scroll written by Traververse Yohan . It revealed a recipie. She must walk 100 more miles and then look for the chocolate fruit of the bloodline Traververse. She deemed it a simple task. She walked and continue. More drums came. More transmissions. This time no questions but ScReams . Screams and false retaliation. She wondered why but she could not meddle. Oh the Banshee a lack of character but a full amount of voice. She was almost at her destination. She wondered back to the air. The air that created her. She always wondered how something inanimate almost surreal would create her and create her with such a course enough voice that talking was nearly futile. She longed for nothing. She stayed walking drowning in her own melancholy. Doused with cherries and the tree branch silk. The islands forming something. Preluding a series of events. The war of this land Gal’Dor. She found nothing but crows surrounding her black existence. She inevitably found what she seeked. The chocolate plant teeming with a brittle sugar none that was satisfying. Despite so she drank it waiting for the drums to go away. They did. Then she sat. Still forgetting one important thing in her journeys. The loneliness. What about that???