@liz-the-box a snippet for you about the lovely Minna!
(and a special thanks to @gardenerofwords! thank you so much for helping me write the rhymes and mimic song)
Minna wander the corridor of mineshaft 4B by herself. The rest of her coven had split up, spread out in the mine to try and figure out what had so troubled the miners. They had called on the leader of her coven, regaling them with stories of haunted mineshafts, mysterious injuries, and miners suffering from melancholy and even some memory loss. They swore up and down the whole mine must be haunted. Ghosts were more rare than people thought, and rarely were they violent.
But if it wasn't ghosts, then what could be so troubling the miners? Minna continued on, her lantern swaying slightly as she walked.
That's when she heard it. A deep, slow rumbling hum. It set her fur on end and made her want to snarl at the air.
Minna felt the warning in the air, the hum vibrating in her ears. She almost turned back when she realized it wasn't a hum, but a song.
"In shadows dark lurk we now, to protect our young, our sacred vow!
So when you turn, over shoulder glancing, know your wretched lives you're chancing!
And when your eyes do deceive, as beautiful our bodies disguises weave,
Know a blink, or lapse of judgment all we need, for on your memories we shall feed."
It was layered and strong, instantly she knew what to do. She took a deep calming breath to ease that part of her that still wanted to run and sang her own song.
"I walk knowing you are strong, I walk knowing my steps are wrong," her low melody echoed down the mine shaft and she pressed forward. "Be at peace," her voice carried the word and with it, she hoped, her intent. She doesn't know why her song became a lullaby but it feels right.
The song pressing against her becomes less angry and more of a warning growl.
"Forget our nest, this holy ground, our dearest refuge which you have found.
For should you not, and this we swear our teeth will rend, our teeth will tear!
Death for you will come in great a number, should you disturb our young ones precious slumber!"
With her lantern as her guide she finally comes to the end of the mineshaft and that's when she sees what has been troubling the miners.
To the untrained eye, it was a cavernous room filled with crates and bags. But Minna knew better. The boxes had teeth, the shadows roiled, and she felt the hiss of warning rising in the air. Magic crackled at her claws and she prepared herself for the worst when she saw what their song had warned her they were protecting.
Little nests of glowing moss.
The protection spell that had been ready instantly died and she lowered her gaze.
"You are wise to lower your eyes, young witch," something to her left hissed. She could see the moving shadows from her periphery but dared not bring her gaze up.
"I have been taught by those far wiser than myself." There was a deep rumble and Minna could feel them assessing her.
"And who did they teach that would dare stumble into our home?" Minna doesn't answer.
"You are wiser than you look foolish girl," said a new trilling voice that was far too close to her.
"Are you here to tell us to leave?"
"All those who reside in this world deserve to live in it. No," Minna said, "I am here to broker peace."
A rough laugh, tinged by a throaty snarl of bitterness, "Peace? You dare speak of peace when it is they who have intruded and-"
A tiny voice, one not yet used to singing, trills a wobbly tune, "Be at peace….be at peace….."
The room holds its breath. Minna hears a quiet, lone whisper of shushing.
There's a heavy sigh on her right, "This mountains caves were once wholly ours."
"The mountains sustain more than you and your people now."
"No," they sing a warning hum, "no, we are not built for war as we once were. You would see your little ones left without you? Or would you rather send our babies to fight battles so you may stand as ruler of a mountain that was here before you were ever a thought?"
They are met with silence.
"If you are willing to broker peace, then I must ask, how can I trust you?"
"I would willingly give you a memory of joy."
The mimic cannot fully see Minna's soft smile, "Trust given, is trust earned. There can be no peace without it."
"You truly are a very wise woman. May I know your name, so that I may sing your song and pass on your story?"
"You are their Lore Keeper?"
They laugh, "young one, how is it you know so much about me and yet still I know nothing about you?"
"Minna," she says softly, "so given to me by my mother." The Lore Keeper tests her name and then after a moment, sings. Minna feels the notes spell her name, she feels the chords wrap around her and define her in a way she hadn't yet known to herself. She feels the melody fill her chest and carry her heart beat. (She feels the song carry on past a life she hasn't yet lived and hears the trilling harmony of a harmonica free as the wind dancing through meadows of wildflowers).
There are tears in her eyes, and a shuddering breath escapes her. "Thank you," Minna whispers, "thank you for the blessing of your song."
"No," the Lore Keeper chuckles, "it is I who must thank you."
"May my joy sustain and nourish you," she finally brings her eyes up to meet theirs (they are beautiful in the dim glow of the shimmering moss).
"May your name reign long after you are gone," they smile, their teeth bright and dripping and Minna looses something that she'll never remember to miss. But there will be peace.
And above all else, that is what is most important.
