Andulan was perplexed,
She was trying but they weren't dying,
I've never encountered song like this,
You seven are the real deal, not copies,
Like Toblin's, or should I say Prienne's,
Untalented singers, musicians and sycophants,
Stooges all, fit only to sate my unfortunate, burdensome thirst,
When I find it appropriate to become a monster, that is.
After much exercise, Andulan retracted her vines,
Those fields of green vanished into the dirt like frightened voles,
Fearing the sight of hawks above,
Next she turned her gaze towards the three musicians huddled together.

Sharin taught them the ultimate defense,
Immediacy beyond breath,
Each brother of song, placed a hand over his core melody,
Felt the now manifesting itself with each beat, desired to hear it continue,
Existence itself has both a song, and a silence, if one listens carefully,
It is possible to read a song's structure and with that knowledge,
Its logical conclusion can be uncovered,
They bridged the gap between song and its silence,
To extend it and throw themselves into its inevitable encore,
Repeated as necessary...

With one hand pressed onto the ground,
Feeling earth with pulse, she filled soil with enmity.
Bringing rise to fields of quivering, thirsty green.
Tendrils excited to paint themselves red and drink of life,
Paul and Kevin thought inward, felt just outside their horizon,
Immediacy beyond breath.

Rick whistled loud to his brothers,
Before letting fly with a volley,
Andulan's ivy turned into an umbrella above,
Blotting out the rain,
John struck her with his voice, emerald arms,
Appeared to absorb the force of voice,
That tore rock from earthy tombs below,
Slamming the youth with slabs of bedrock.
Andulan shrugged it off and glared at them,
Kevin and Paul charged forward, hollering with rage,
It masked the stench of fear.

Pity, I could've loved all of you,
It would've been unconditional,
But it has been decided, you shall all be made divine,
And added to my grace.
John was speechless, but he tugged at his collar to free his voice,
Paul lurched forward, flinched out of fear, he didn't want to **** a child,
It was beyond unethical, it was a sin without solution.
Still, he held his trident out in front of him, drawing a line in the sand.
Should she cross it, a hidden song would catch her, and he'd skewer her,
Until she stopped breathing.
Paul clicked his tongue every four seconds, did it without facing her,
It was a small song, broken and indistinct, but it would still work.

Those thick vines crept back into place,
Beneath their host, assimilated by flesh,
Once youthful and pure as white snow.
Though juvenile, she spoke and processed as an adult,
Walking towards six tearful performers,
Who'd just witnessed the death of a girl and subsequent transformation,
Into a heartless monster.
Repugnant trails of misery followed her, falling through torn sleeves,
Bruised skin from ordeals suffered years ago, clung to whitened remnants,
Her black coronet was still in place upon her head, unchanged and solid,
Blackest seal upon brightest mind.

Andulan felt her anemia returning,
As huge serpents, thick as men's arms,
Slithered around her body as she knelt down low,
Holding her head to bring an end to the conscious nightmare,
Cringing through the agony building inside, becoming harder to manage,
That old temptation returned once more, action could express that which silence,
Held captive.
Rick tried to free her from monsterousness, guiding shafts towards her core melody,
But vines of metallic integrity deflected good intentions, breaking them upon ground.
Constriction tightened around her heart,
Until she couldn't breathe, didn't feel it anymore,
Held aloft by a direction she didn't want to take,
Andulan was returned to this world an emerald princess.