Perhaps, this was their purpose.

The reason the sisters had all been reborn here.

In a world that seemingly wished to kill them.

They were meant to save the world.

Winslie had listened to the dream visitor—to the voice that spoke so intimately within her mind—and although she could be sympathetic to the cause he seemed to proclaim —saving the world —she could not get behind the sheer idea of leaving a friend behind.

He left him.

That dream visitor who had whispered in the ears of all who lived in this world to do his bidding, while his brother remained chained, broken, and starved on an isle that yearned to kill them.

Were it not for the stupidity of man, would their world ever be in this position in the first place?

Winslie doubted it.

If the dream visitor was not some ghostly apparition beside her and within her mind, she would show the man what true abandonment really meant. Provide him a lesson on What Not To Do and how Consequences Can Bite You In the Ass.

Alas, he was not corporeal, and so she allowed her simmering rage to turn elsewhere.

She could fight the beings attacking a tree, an important tree, she had gathered. But the Dream Visitor had spoke of protecting something inside there, and Winslie wanted nothing to do with whatever he proclaimed to protect. Clearly, he was awful at it.

The third door was also interesting until she thought of the chained man the dream visitor had left behind, and, well, she didn’t care to fix the mistakes this man had made. Why should she clean up his mess?

The first door, however, spoke to her. To heal the world with song?

To save the world in a way that no man ever could?

She rather enjoyed the thought of that one.

And so she stepped through it.

The darkness and cold did not bother her, not more than the full-body shock it gave her, as her eyes blinked against a howling wind. Unforgiving this world was, and angry too, she just knew. But her voice felt special here, wrapped in this place she scarcely could recognize. And so Winslie did what Winslie did best.

She sang.

A howl broke through her throat as she sang a melody from her youth.

One of heartache, of loss, but of hope.

And succumbed to the warmth that needled at her toes.

Singing until she had no more breath left to give.