The night child slept throughout the day. She slept like a stone statue, never taking heed of the worried souls about her. This child was found by Forest Nymphs of Aeniith, or the 11th world, if you prefer, though I do not know why anyone would. The Nymphs took care of her as one of their own kind, as they thought her to be born of the elements, as were they, although she was regarded as a strange and perhaps ill child. Strange, she was, but ill, no. For this was her nature, to sleep when the sun god, Aliotear, graced the land with light and live as vibrantly as any other chosen person, but at night, when Etheva Zirko, the goddess of the moon, did reign over the heavens.

Her skin was pale, but not a sickly pale by any means. She had an ethereal glow about her. Her eyes were of delicate indigo and her hair an indefinite flaxen-gold. She seemed a tiny whisper, so precious and delicate but somehow quite ancient. Few words were ever to be drawn from her peach lips; she was quite often very silent.

Blue Moons are ever rare to pass,

But sweet and golden is she at last.

The silver moon upon her does shine,

An ancient rhythm throughout all of Time.

The Nymph chosen to care for the night child was called Myrliel. Although she was, to any human person's eyes, very beautiful, she was, more or less, an outcast among the Nymphs. This was truly without reason, or at least apparent reason. Myrliel thought of the night child as a lovely moonbeam fallen from the heavens, and, in the simplest exclamation I could give you, she was. Myrliel named the night child Zirniheala, meaning, "child of the midnight moon"; truly, it was an appropriate name for her; anyone who ever laid eyes upon her would be wont to swear her to be the child of Zirko herself.

It is said that Zirniheala was fallen from a star, being born of the heavens, but where exactly she came from was never to be known. Among the many odd things of her was her seemingly ever-lasting youth; Zirniheala's childhood lasted for two hundred years. She grew into an elegant young woman, and her beauty grew as she did; ever lovely and celestial she remained. So exquisite was she that the nymphs soon knew she could not be merely human.

~

It was one evening, just as the sun was setting, when Zirniheala was awakening from her day of rest, that something fell from the sky. It fell straight beside Zirniheala's bed of moss, sending the night child flying to its attention. The thing was very hot; she burned her fingertips upon touching it. Silver light illuminated the approaching darkness of night, pouring from the sphere-shaped thing like a waterfall. Zirniheala peered down at the object. She felt something in common with it, as she herself still had a strong recollection of falling from the sky as well.

The first instinct that flooded her body was to call to Myrliel, but then Zirniheala's mind bore the idea that the Nymph would usher her away from the queer, and somewhat frightening, object. Myrliel had always been extremely protective of the night child and Zirniheala was sure that she would think of this thing of the sky as far to foreign for her to inspect for very long.

Zirniheala waited till the moon was full over her meadow and the sky-object was cooled. She picked it up and took it to the base of the gathering tree of the Nymphs.

"I do wonder what the beautiful sphere is," the child of the night said softly.

She sighed and sat down is a patch of blossoms, the more rare kind that bloomed by moonlight. Zirniheala compacted herself slightly as a cool evening breeze whispered through the sleeping trees.

"Perhaps it is derived from this moon of midsummer," came her words that barely were.

A tiny second passed in time.

"Perhaps, Zirniheala."

It was a voice-sound so faint, blending and moving with the silver wind, that any other with ears less born of hearing that hers would never have known of it.

(A/N: Review! Please?? ^.^)