She reached the last tomb. The name on it was that of the first fae king, Faelar Aramaer.
Flowers glowed around it with blue butterflies flapping their gossamer wings on them or on the stone of the tomb. She sat down right in front of it. As if sensing her presence, some of the butterflies fluttered their wings and came to hover around her. They would try to sit on her, but when her silhouette rippled, they would fly away. She chuckled. Her eyes went to the next tomb on his left… of Alvenia Aramaer, his wife. Her fingers went to the small pedestal in front of the tomb and she brushed the petals. How she wished she was corporeal at this time?
