Tir nĂ¡ Lia did not sparkle at night so much as faintly glimmer, glowing humbly and serenely, in harmony with the world surrounding it. Elven cities were made with the intent of achieving a state of equilibrium with the surrounding environment, blending together with nature so that, over the eons, it became impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
An Elven Sage in meditation likewise sought harmony with their surroundings, often staying perfectly still for days at a time. Given the opportunity, many of the Aen Saevherne would go on for ages about how time was meaningless, how time was an illusion, how they had all the time in the world.
But Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha, or Avallac'h as he preferred to be called, no longer believed that.
Time was everything. Is everything. Will be everything. It erodes the most mighty of empires, witnesses the birth and death of civilizations, allows length, width, and height to exist in motion instead of languishing in only three dimensions. A single moment in time can take on the most astonishing importance. It just has to be the right one.
To say that time is meaningless is to, in some small way, assert one's own importance. To seek comfort in thinking that one is beyond the slow decay that awaits all things. But time doesn't care. Time keeps moving no matter what.
These musings on temporality served to induce the meditative trance required for the ritual Avallac'h was performing, and after several hours the veil parted, and he saw beyond.
A swallow hovered in the void, frozen in time, reflected between two looking glasses. The image repeated itself ad infinitum, forming an endless hallway of mirrors. Then mirrors appeared on the sides, then above and below. The image appeared, again and again, out to the edges of perception.
Then the mirrors shattered.
Now freed from their confines, the infinite swallows hovered, still frozen, stretching out further than any eye could see. A green light emanated from each of them, and they began to rush towards a central point, combining with the original in a brilliant and dazzling display.
Eventually, only one swallow remained. It was transparent, made of perfect, crystal clear glass. Time began to flow again, and the swallow fell, shattering out into infinity.
The vision ended, and Avallac'h reeled back as if struck. He regained his composure, and attempted to enter the vision again. But the veil remained closed. He had seen all he was permitted to see.
"Zirael," he muttered, suddenly out of breath. "What does he have planned for you?"
Pulling himself slowly up off the floor, Avallac'h steadied himself on the wall before sitting down in a nearby chair. While he recovered, he pondered the meaning of the vision, but found little beyond what he had already pieced together.
Zirael. A singularity. And the Man of Glass.
A new energy filled him, and he stood with purpose as more of the future was revealed to him.
"She will be here soon," he said. "I must prepare."
