Sylphan had several months of peace in his clear world, few animals showed fear, despite the fact he still needed to eat. The collection of wooden statues under his charge had expanded a long way, the small creatures stirred a protective instinct in sylphan despite their wooden status, but the more the flock grew the more they weighed on his mind, now they were a constant weight and he nightly beseeched unto the moon what he should do. He never received an answer directly but the pull towards the light was always strongest when the moon was full, on one night when the orb glowed bright above the wind picked up near his first and oldest statue. The wind moved the figure not, but did direct sylphan's attention between it and the fire towards which the wind blew. On a whim with a hopeful but fearful heart sylphan moved the figure to the middle of the raging flame. The wood burned quickly revealing a ghostly outline of the rodent which nodded at him and ran off into the sky to return to the moon. Across the duration of the night sylphan released more souls to the moon and the hungering ghost fire wailed and screeched in the air that even that small number of souls were not going to join it's kindling.

The next day sylphan, feeling unburdened, flew up to the sky and played among the clouds, he was still, of course, a child at heart, and a child who knew naught but enjoyment, despite the weight layered upon him by the moon. He flew far and wide soaring far from his WhiteWorld, far to the north sylphan saw a column of smoke rising above Primaron's canopy. Sylphan knew not of man, but he knew of fire, and what it looked like when he used it, he descended to the ground a mile or so away as the sun began to set and slowly stalked forward to the campsite. Sylphan saw on approach a group of creatures similar to himself, their hair a similar collection of vibrant hues and their tongue similar enough to his own that he could to an extent tell the content of their conversation.

Sylphan, as expected due to his age, knew little of the character of early man and suspected little when he walked into the firelight. At his emergence the individuals turned as a whole to the newcomer in their midst.

In the years since Sylphan's entombment within the lake the people had changed, not a devolvement or a general tend to mean-spiritedness, on the contrary they had become stronger, more intelligent and above all, very honourable. As he entered the group they welcomed him, it was not done to refuse a traveller in the snow at night and with the Marags prowling in force this winter, it was even more important.

As he was led to the fire a large strapping man with a shock of wiry purple hair and a massive purple beard clapped his massive hand on Sylphan's shoulder, "Well boy? What brings you to wandering the wild in the middle of winter away from your clan?" The mans voice was deep and rich, Sylphan couldn't help but smile as he entered the firelight.

Sylphan spun the tale he quickly decided on upon seeing the camp, "Two years ago my clan was savaged by a massive pack of Marags, as far as i know i am the only one still alive, for the last two years i've just wandered around and occasionally lived for a while with other clans."

A woman sitting on the other side of the fire, with hair so orange it practically looked like it was in the fire, was quick to ask, "But how did a young woman like yourself avoid Marags and Rajanas and all the other creatures which would happily have eaten you?"

Sylphan, deciding that the man's decision that he was a boy would likely be more effective for his purposes in this situation than the woman's "Sorry madam, but as my friend here said, i am actually male, the way i managed to survive was by learning how to avoid them, as you no doubt know they are unafraid of fire however there are certain scents they cannot stand, for example marags avoid rajana musk, so i generally keep some fur in a pouch, though i recently discarded it as it had lost its effectiveness. There are many other methods", though Sylphan was not entirely sure of this he knew marags and rajana and he knew from the insertion of his consciousness into his prey that similar phenomenon occurred.

The corners of the man's eyes lifted, Sylphan thought he was smiling but it was difficult to tell through his beard. "Hear that Morzra? This guy is a pretty good survivor, and i have to say boy that judging by that beautiful spear, masterful craftsmanship, may i ask who carved it? He is likely a good hunter as well. The name's Royke by the way"

Sylphan was momentarily flummoxed by the question so he started with the rest "Despite my skill with hunting i avoid it wherever possible, my clan always have, there are certain... Spiritual rituals i have to perform after a kill. The spear is what remains of my clans Chief-Staff, merely the shaft and a shard of obsidian survived the attack, so i made this." Sylphan made this story on a whim, the only knowledge he had of a 'Chief-Staff' was a flicker, a vestige of shadow of a memory from his previous lives.

All the faces around the fire dropped. "The loss of a Chief-Staff is a great tragedy, and it's effect concentrated solely on one person for two whole years, it's a miracle you're still human."

Sylphan was intensely puzzled by this, "Excuse me, what do you mean by "it's effect"?"

Royke gestured to a yellow haired man to his left, "Fetch the Chief-Staff"

The yellow haired man went into a nearby tent and removed with an ornate white staff topped with an exquisite carving of a pine martin with obsidian eyes.

"The Chief-Staff is not just a symbol for the clan, it IS the clan, we are members of the Markon clan, however this staff IS the Markon clan, without it the clan would collapse. The staff forms a focal point for the wild energy of Primaron, this wild force is suffused through the clan and blesses members with skill and power, it also controls the flow of this energy, without the staff the energy floods directly into everyone unopressed and cause an increase in savagery. There are of course other ways; charms, talismans and training among them, to prevent the influence. But the staff has always been the most effective way."

"I'm glad i took my spear with me then, i never quite gave it the respect it deserved. Now, to business, would it be possible to accompany the Markon clan for a short while. Where possible i will use my skills to help you." Sylphan decided upon this to learn more about the human culture, despite the danger proposed by getting near to people, though he was not entirely aware of the danger, again his naivety shone through.

Royke gave a deep laugh and clapped Sylphan on the shoulder "Why in Isalgeth not! You may end up just being a random spy for some other clan, but" royke leaned in close and his eyes turned hard "if that was the case and it resulted in any harm to the clan. I would Hunt You Down, find you and you do not want to know what i will do to you. I have a family to care about"

Sylphan looked Royke in the eyes, "So did i, Once."

It is un-belie-vably hard to write Sylphan when autocorrect ALWAYS changes it to Sylvain, which is especially annoying when i have another character called Sylvain (the harmony half of the Drokkenai) in Inception, Book 1 of the Heretical Omnibus.

I have to admit, the Chief-Staff aspect was a fairly late decision, the statuette burning was a part of the plot before any characters were designed.

Those of you who know story plots may be able to guess what sort of arc the Markon clan will be (no not a nemesis creation arc (that's what my sister thought)).

Though i hate to pressure/beg etc. A review would be very helpful, As of now Sylphan is a relatively blank state, and though he must reach 2 characters in the future he has a whole history to get through, sensible suggestion will alwys be welcome.