SHORT STORY: THE LEGEND OF THE ORATORAN

Long ago, in the very town of Takaboul, there resided a child of great heights, taller than the trees and sky. Her voice was that of an angel and people swore she sang of the heavens only she could see. She was the sound of spring and blooming flowers; her voice calming the most violent of beasts and littering the prairies with daisies of gold. Her mere presence pushed the winter back into the mountains and brought peace to the hearts of the sheep. The lion would not prey and the doe would not fear for the maiden's voice lulled such thoughts into the abyss.
Almost all were beguiled by the enchanting phenomenon, however, bitterness soon began to rise among a few. They believed that her charm was a spell cast over the village and she was really a demon, her pretty face merely luring people into her trap. This thought spread as wildfire, destroying the trees and wilting the roses. The lion leapt upon the doe and tore its throat from its body with a murderous glint in its eye and the people revolted against the maiden, pushing her out.
Word of the enchantress spread and she ran from the unwelcoming world, finally finding peace in the isolated Valley of Craggis. There the ground was dry and covered in an unearthly brown mist. No being before her had ever dared to step foot in this valley and made it out alive.
Alone and filled with a great sorrow, she began her song full of melancholy and woe. From the dry earth sprang bare trees with feline faces and gnarled horns, its calloused fingers stretching up into the sky in search of the sound.
The faces' lips parted and the wind began to blow, howling out its own tune that spoke of beauty and rebirth to the maiden above, halting her song. For the first time in her life, she didn't sing...she listened. Her lips were parted but nothing came forth from the crimson buds for a full, lingering moment.
Struck with joy and awe at the new voices, the maiden crouched before them and humbly began to sing a new song – love. Their voices carried across the earth, from one end clear to the other until they heard themselves echoing back. Upon reaching the village of Takaboul, the people fell to their knees at the glorious sound and wept for joy. Men and women alike, children and elderly, human and otherwise, began to flock towards the wondrous sound like birds going south for the winter. The destination unknown, but the hearts of every listener content, they all gravitated to the Valley of Craggis and stood in amazement at the transformation of the once perilous area into one of beauty and life. The maiden now sat upon the largest of the trees in the middle of the lush forest she brought forth, a book in her hands. She held it steady while one lone branch wrote out her music to deliver it to the world.
The trees named the maiden Oratora and gave her the ability to create new lives from her own. With uncontainable glee and love in her heart, Oratora gave half of her body and life force to create a husband to which gave her many children.
To this very day, the Valley of Craggis is said to hold the race of Oratoran, named after the maiden herself. Each of them having their own unique voice to add to the choir and each being taught by the very Oratora that started it all.
The village of Takaboul and all else who opposed her were banished from the forest and cursed by the trees to live without the ability to hear nor see, never again to behold the Oratora and her choir of angels. She was the first of the great storytellers, her story told with music so powerful, the angels in heaven would pause to listen.