"Anest . . . they were the forebears of faerie-kind . . . and yet I sense that they knew nothing of the Earth Mother! Yet how can this be? Can it be that the Earth Mother Herself grew out of the earth, even as they did?" The idea momentarily reft her of her voice. "Can it be that the Earth Mother Herself was born, has lived, and will die one day? Can it be that the ending of this age . . . No! No! I dare not say it!"
She had come to a stop, and Anest stared at her, appalled. She herself appeared as she once was, an eldritch creature with an inner fire that lighted her features from within. Anest doubted not her vision, for he knew that she looked full upon it with utter certainty.
"Anest . . . I understand now . . . She is dying . . . She is dying . . ."
For a long time neither could speak. Anest could only look upon her tearstained face through a blur of hot tears, and try to believe that it wasn't true.
Late that night, the floor of Wizard's Vale began to rise, until abruptly it came to an end. The forest was shrouded in an utterly dark stillness. High above, they imagined they could hear the ancient trees whispering to one another. There was a feeling of expectancy in the air, which had become very dense and still.