There was lightning in the darkness, a whip that tore the flesh of the night sky, and a torrent of ice that, even as it fell, shattered the brittle lantern light.

He sat beneath the willow that grew beside the creek and whispered to himself a song. His eyes were like the ashes that blackened with the rain and he kept them hidden in his cloak, the world's last great mystery.

And he whispered his song and breathed his life and thought the world to be simple.

She was a sylph that danced on moonlight, with sunlight in her hair and star-shine in her eyes. She kept them shining, the last forbidden paradise.

And she danced in her light and heard his song and drifted through the willow leaves.

"Hello" she sang and her voice was molten sugar.

And, although he was blind to her light, he joined her in the dance and the song went on.

But he could not help but to stumble in the darkness, and he could not help but to sit himself back down beneath the willow tree to see the fairy dance and to hear the siren song.

"Why do you not dance," she asked as she flitted through the leaves.

Said he "I will wait until the morning dawns, when I can better see."

She smiled and her laugh was music, her voice a syrup that drifted through the air.

"You will wait forever, artless child, for it has dawned already."