In the valley there are lilies. The lilies slumber in the heart of the city and travel up the eastern bank of the river, creeping in happy inconsitancy towards the world below, because by the time they taper out, the lilies have made a wonderous, beautiful journey up the hill and have spilled into the next valley on either side.

When the sun rises over the valley, it first scatters off these beautiful flowers, shining through them just enough to offset each's individual color. The next thing it touches is underbush on the eastern side of the city, a bright green and thorned hedge that girds the city until it meets the river on the north and south sides of the city, interspersed the whole way round by lilies of every color.

Spiriling outward from the center of this city are temporary houses, made hastily into cone shapes so that the outsides are still in need of decorations, and the inside of furnishing. The bases are well built, though, and the houses keep out most rain. When the sun reaches these, the outside sentries return inside the city to their homes, and others replace them.

One man, woman, or child comes out of each seperate house, some stumbling and stretching to meet the dazzling reflection of lilies, for the lilies reflect brighter than the stream. From the mountain peaks in the west flies down a large Legna, and another from the peak at north where the river flows from. Carresing the wind with their wings, they hang above the city, casting a protective eye over every human there, then to every blade of grass until there eyes have roamed the nearby villages for any threat or visitor.

The two see only a third of their kind walking from the northern peak, and satisfied, they click their hooves to the ground, and hold their tales high to greet the coming children. A child wraps it's eager arms around each leg, delighted to see the Legna. The rest crowd as close as will not disturb the visitors' ballance.

"Hello, again, precious ones. How has the valley been to you?"

A child answers, "Our houses will hold for our short stay here, and would they not you would provide."

"Good, and what else have you discovered in your play?" asks the other Legna.

"We have seen that the lilies reach far into the other cities, and that the river glows at night to guide our way."

And another, "We've talked to the people there that are not of our camp, and some of them fear you."

The first Legna smiled at the second, stamped his hoof and smiled at the children. "They see only our shadows when we fly above, and will not look up to see us."

A child's eyes widened. "But you are beautiful, and so easy to see up in the sky! Do they never look up? They must not know the sky is pretty, too."

"Enough questions for today, little ones. Go off and play, and if ever you are frightened, call for us."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The most beautiful Legna of them all was standing at the base of the northern mountain. He turns to the one who can not walk, but only fly and rest on shoulders. The holy creature settles itself on his shoulder, content to be itself, and wraps it's splendid wings into a fold. This Legna is different from the others, taller and more muscular, and resembling more the Ruler on the mountain, who sent this special Legna and his companion down to visit in His stead. In fact, he hardly resembles a Legna at all, but lives amoung them.

"Do you, my dearest friend, know what I am to do?"

The holy creature preens it's white feathers, seeming content.

"Than watch over me while I change," he adds, turning to the north and kneeling. Soon, he can be seen walking down from the mountain, in the form of those below as they work on their houses. Every house he meets gives him offer of cover and food, although they cannot see the creature travelling with them; it is too transparent to their mortal eyes, and they cannot see the inner light from her. They greet him as a stranger, and he refuses each politely, feasting his eyes on the lilies, the houses, and the individals in turn.

A child rushes to him, unafraid. "Come, come!" she says to the likeness of a man. "The Legna are holding council!" The child takes him by the hand and asks, "What is your name, Sir?"

"Susej," he pronounces softly for the child, softening the J to the likeness of an H, and lets the child lead him to the crowd at the center of the city. "Who plants these flowers?"

"The people in this city do, Susej."

"All of these flowers are from your hand?"

"Oh, heavens no! Do you see that flower there? I planted that one a few days ago, and look! It has already spilled of it's own accord into the village beyond!" the child says, pointing to a trail of lilies starting at the top of the southern hill and cascading down the other side.

Susej smiles at the child, enjoying his words and company, when a man near him warns him to be quiet, and in a hurried tongue explains, "You should fear the Legnas, stranger, or else they will have your hide!"

"But Sir, they suffer the children."

"The children, only. Be careful for they outrank us."

The ghost in likeness of a man holds his tongue, not wishing to reveal that he, as well, outranks this rude gentleman. He turns his attention, instead, to the war generals above: the Legna. Their hooves touch the top of nothing, their wings holding them above as they speak, one of them holding an old man on his back. The children crowd under them, not heedful of the deadly weight, and listen raptly to them each in turn while the older humans kneel or bow on the outskirts of the gathering.

Both Legnas see the inner light from Susej's companion, and the unladen one calls to him, "You who are blessed, with your fair eyes and fair skin, untinted yet by sin though you harbor a body's age of 20 or more, how long have you been in camp, and is your business a kind that we can help? This man here on my companion's back has passed his time away in here, and is headed for the mountain yonder that rules this valley, but you I may carry where you wish."

"As the children below your careful feet," comes the answer, "I have stopped here only to behold your beautiful forms, a blessing to this village."

The laden Legna flicks his tail in pleasure and curiosity, "And were do you go now?"

"I go where I am meant to go; to one who has strayed far from the city," he insists, drawing their attentions back to their task at hand: instructing the people in the art of war. His transparent freind ruffles her delicate feathers and shifts in anticipation as they made their way among the lilies previously pointed out to them, each one they touch increasing in it's glow as if it has visited the very sun itself. The gathering was oblivious to this, not noticing that all along the southern slope the colors darkened and brightened as their first hue suggested, then fell back to their normal state.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rennis had met a man her age of fair eyes and manner, and had fallen in love underneath many a sunset that reflected the features of the nearby land, and many a showing of her current lovers' deceit. So now she sits with him in the evenings, talking to her own delight and delights the more by his own voice. She looks into his eyes and asks, not for the first time, "Where do you come from, Susej?"

"You love me, do you not?"

"I do."

"Then you should not have to ask such a silly question."

"I shall have to ask again if you do not answer me," Rennis replies, staring at her dear beloved in wonder. She had never said before that she loved him, and her admiration grows for him in the very addmitance of it. When he would tell her before of the Legnas and the ruler of the moutain, from his mouth only would she believe him. She had even looked up once to catch a glance of these beautiful creatures, but it had already been gone with its shadow to follow.

"You wonder who I am. I tell you I am above the Legna's themselves in rank, and that I have come to loose my friend into the cities all over this place. She will fly from each person to the next, carrying my message and my ruler's message with her, along with the knowledge of every tongue." He changed his features to those of his former living, revealing his true nature. The light from his presence sliced through shadows that thought themselfs hidden by earthly bodies, and the new trueness of his form startled his adorer.

Rennis stands up, alarmed. "You outrank me? This is why I do not belong to that city!" she accuses, "So that my lovers cannot turn into the one I hate!"

"Hate me? But you have just confessed your love to me."

"I love no one above me! I do not bend to another's will!"

"But, Rennis," he explains, taking her frightened hand in his, "You have loved me once before, and you love me now again. Do not forsake me. I came to this place for you alone."

"For me alone?"

"It is true. Come back with me to the city and its lilies. Be my bride, Rennis."

"Where is this friend of yours?" she asks, almost convinced.

With that, the creature changed into a solid shape and flew above them both, shedding perfume into the air and with a single cry, awaking the hearts of the world. Flying over the south regions, then the west, then the east and visiting breifly in the north, the bird drew the pleasant attention of Rennis, then landed on her shoulder, delicately perching there.

Susej smiled and comforted her as to a silly child, "She is a gift for you, a dower that you may take even before we wed."

Rennis lowered her gaze to their hands. "You were my first love and now you are my love again. Even if you outrank me."