“This is beautiful.” Whispered Elfling, the youngest elf.
“Yes, it is,” her friend Elfman replied. “but listen – no birds sing. None of the Mother’s Earth-nurturers – the slugs, snails, worms or moles are present in this place. The Earth is barren. Nothing is growing the way it should. It is as if the circle is stuck in time.”
Quietly, the Elves moved around the circle. Slowly they felt all vitality draining from their bodies. With each breath a darkness of soul overtook them.
It seemed as if a long, quiet sigh came from one of the stones. The Elves looked closer at it, and they could see two faces in the cold face of the rock.
“Is that Fe-ar Glas?” asked Elf-Ian. “It looks like him, although somehow different.”