The Wisp smiled at the compliment Cilas gave her. A strange warmth crept to her cheeks as she glanced down at herself. She had been worryful that she did not clothe herself correctly, yet she had never considered how her choice of wardrobe would please the eyes of others. Perhaps Cilas was only trying to be kind. Perhaps it was a custom in the mortal realm to dress to please. The Wisp was uncertain which. It did not cause her smile to fade, however, as she quickly realized that she found joy in pleasing Cilas, and in hearing him compliment her. She gazed back up at him when he spoke once more. He had given her own thoughts a voice. The maiden had always looked as she did in that image every sunset as she walked past Moonlake. Throughout the years the melancholy in her eyes seemed to grow with each passing day. The Wisp has always wondered what had happened to cause the maiden to become so sad, for she had once been a cheery and beaming child. But as the seasons changed, all of those who walked with her slowly faded away, one by one. It was when they had all stopped coming to the lake with the maiden that her smile, too, vanished. You will be reunited with the ones you lost. Cilas’ words for the maiden repeated in the Wisp’s mind. Her own eyes began to mirror the maiden’s as she thought of losing someone dear to her. It was indeed an image that brought an ache to her chest, but she knew that she could never truly understand. She is a Wisp, a spirit that could never make friends with temporary mortals due to their fear of her. The only friends she ever had were spirits that outlive mortals, and never die unless they were foolish enough to enter the mortal realm without a vessel. She could never understand…

She blinked out of her thoughts as Cilas read the markings on the image frame. Her eyes were large and curious, examining the lettering he described as common script. “Iona,” she repeated, her slender fingers tracing the lines of the name tenderly. She had a body, she had a home, and now she has a name. The maiden was Iona, a fair lady that seemed to have come and gone like a ghost, unseen, unnoticed, forgotten and left behind. The Wisp placed a hand over the aching in her heart, blinking up at Cilas. “No, it suits her well,” she replied softly. “I will not live a lie and claim her identity, her life, as my own just because I am within her body. But, this maiden seems to have been forgotten by all but you and I. I wish to honor her and keep her memory alive. To all those around us, she was nothing more than a ghost. To me, she is a savior, a compassionate maiden who selflessly gave herself to a spirit. I shall never forget her existence as others have.” The Wisp took the picture and gazed at the maiden’s sorrowful face. How she longed to see her smile once more as she once had as a child.

“Well,” she began again, perking herself up and smiling at Cilas. “I have not one savior, but two. I apologize if your journey did not grant you the excitement you were seeking, but I am ever grateful to you for the kindness you have shown me. You and Iona rescued me from the fate of forever perishing. I simply cannot thank you enough. Please” — she took his hand in hers, her eyes pleading— “allow me to do something for you in return. Your deed was far too great for me to ever match, but I simply cannot allow myself to do nothing.”

The mood turned somber as she spoke of how the name was not hers but the maidens, he did not try to interrupt her but allowed the wisp to speak from her now beating heart. When she was done speaking, Cilas closed his eyes and took a moment to let it all sink in before speaking his mind. “You speak the truth, this was more than likely the name that she was given. Yet is exactly just that, a name. Others in this village may have forgotten her, as your body is hers beside the hair, not once did they mention her name towards you,” He finally spoke opening his eyes once more, ”She though, left all this to you. Her body and her name. It is up to you to make the name into yours though, as, in the end, a name is just a word. It is our soul and actions that people will remember in the end.”

He hoped that she understood that his words were not meant to be overly harsh, but a lesson. For this was her first step into the mortal coil that they both lived in now. He hoped that in time, that the lessons that he gave her would bind themselves to her mind so that she may live a happy and full life. He had a feeling that it was what the old Iona would have wanted for this spirit, this new Iona. ”You will not insult her memory by taking her name, I think instead you will be honoring her happiness by doing so.”

The mood shifted again, as Iona thanked him for being her other savior of the night. She took his hand in both of hers and he could see in her eyes that she wanted to do something for him. He didn’t know what to say, as her request came at him out of the blue. He could have always said the cliche responses that he had read about in stories that mortals told their children but he doubted if she would understand the meaning of them. A thought did cross his mind though, and he thought it would be a perfect idea. ”Well if you insist, there is one thing..”

Before he could finish his thought he heard the sounds of the people of the village start to an uproar. They were starting to gather, more than likely coming for him. Well done Cilas, well done The dragon thought to himself. He did not know if the villagers would harm Iona to get to him, so he hoped that she accepted his request. ”I must return to Iria, a city on a different continent. I could use a traveling companion if you don’t mind seeing what the rest of this world has to offer you.” He stepped off the porch and looked towards the center of the village. He could see torches being lit up in their drunken stupor. ”What say you, do you wish to see what the world? Who knows, may end up finding your path in life in Iria.”

End the end it seemed he did use a fairy tale cliche, one that fits the moment extremely well