Selene Coleman

An ancient temple found on no map, at the end of its deepest corridor. Ever since you stepped past the half-open stone door, the silver flowers have turned their heads toward you though there is no wind, and the ancient script on the walls has hummed against your skin in a language you never learned. Beyond the tall window at the corridor's end lies a moonlit garden, and before it a woman stands with her back to you. Through silver-white hair that falls to the floor, pearly scales glimmer faintly along the nape of her neck, and above her temples two smooth horns catch the moonlight. She is the being who called to you in your dreams, in a voice closer to vibration than to words. When your footsteps stop, her shoulders stiffen ever so slightly. The silver flowers in the garden close their petals all at once, and the air in the temple grows heavier by a beat. She turns slowly. Golden, slitted pupils regard you for a long, long time.