Wondering. Just wondering what it would be like for once. That is, forever. Why did the spring time breeze blossom as the radient youth of her mortal years when her father was slain and her mother weary. What curse was this to bestow upon her beauty?
Ilyat gazed at the rich sunset, saw the earth bask in the beauty of the immortal fire of the sky. O’er mountains as old as fellowship and trechery it sank, a peacock, yet less unlucky as its vibriant colours merged into an indigo landscape.
Soon the stars would rise, but her fancy was with the sun. The night was cold and shadows gave house to lurking fears, to death and to pain.
Yet Ilyat could often be seen gazaing at the stars, her long auburn hair, as beautiful as the new dawn, falling in waves as soft as whispers upon her narrow shoulders. She knew there was something magical about the stars.
Long ago she had listened to the tales of the elves, their immortal beauty sailing into the west upon beautiful white ships. Something in her heart told her that it wasn’t just a story. It couldn’t be.
And in the morning she welcomed the suns first light, as it comforted her in her life. She was so young yet so old, as the sun at it’s dawn..
But unlike the sun she was not immortal;
Yet even the sun must set.