The night was bitter cold. Stars burned bright in the sky; their light magnified by the chill air that surrounded everything. Everything was in place, all the people were asleep, the daytime animals were taking respite from their day of toils, and the creatures of the night began to wake and enliven the autumnal night. Wind caressed the trees gently with her frigid breath, and the leaves shuddered at the remembrance of their eternal love affair. All was silent; nothing dared disturb the tumultuous abyss of night.

A man walked quietly, silent words fell from his lips, frozen, upon the earth, summoning that which human eyes cannot see. Clad only in his black robe and an amulet that hung on a string of purest silver about his neck, he drifted through the empty streets, alone. Firmly he grasped his oaken staff, ready for any fate that may befall him, for the moon was full, and the spirit world was not so far away from the physical world this night.

His senses were tuned. The whispering of the animals, the footfalls of cats, the tunneling of moles through the earth, echoed about him. Every so often he would turn to look at a shadow that had fallen where it should not have been, he was waiting for the One.

The One, he did not know what it was. Man, woman, elf, dragon, human, wizard. He knew only it existed, and in all his journeys he had never found it. He searched through villages, cities, forests, and had scourged the globe for just a glimpse at the One. Despite his travels, he grew only more invigorated with each step, he assured himself that his next would lead him to his destination, so slowly he walked, praying silently to the One.

For many years he sought God, but when the man found him, lying ill and scarcely breathing on his deathbed, God handed the man an amulet, strung on a single thread of silver, and said, "my son, you have searched in vain, for so many years. The One should you seek, give your heart and soul to the One, and when you find . . ." God died in the man's arms, silently drifted into the heavens of the supreme, and the man was left with a quest for something that he did not know, something he did not understand.

The man replaced his Franciscan habit with a black hooded robe. He wanted to slip through the night unknown, that his search never be hindered by the inquiries of humans. Slowly he learned the ways of the wizards, learned of the many lives that inhabited the earth; finally he learned how to slip gently through the threshold of the world and the otherworld without harm coming to him. He searched in both spheres of existence, looking for hints that would lead him to the One.

All that he found was that the One was, to the elfish maids an elfish maiden, to the elfish men, an elfish man, to the human men, a human man, to the human woman, a human woman. Thus he realized that there was nothing incomprehensible but the One, the One was absolute, and the One existed in the hearts and minds of every one and everything he had ever met. Long had he traversed both planes of existence in search of the One. His hair once jet, was now a ghostly white. His skin hung from his bones, though his face was wrinkled with age and trouble, his sharp blue eyes peered into the world with a youthful wisdom, and understanding that no one yet has attained. His steps were slow, and he walked as if each movement was planned so he would exert as little energy as possible, for often he would go days, weeks, without eating. Constantly searching, looking for the spiritual elation that only the One could afford him.

As he walked, he felt a presence behind him. Someone was standing in the town square. Slowly he turned around, and walked slowly back toward the center of the village. There stood, wearing rags, a young woman, the most beautiful woman the man had ever seen. As he walked toward her, his steps fell with enough noise that she would hear him. He watched her curiously, and with every step, he fell more in love with her; her spirit was strong, and he did not know how someone so strong could have to such a pass.

"My lady," he said gently, "this is not a good night to be out alone my dear, many spirits are about."

"Kind sir," she spoke haltingly, the night was cold, and she was shivering, "I have no home to go to. I am very hungry, can you find it in your heart to give me something to tide me over until the morning?"

He smiled warmly at the woman, and said, "of course." He reached into his satchel and found his last piece of Elvin way bread. "I have not much more need of this, I ate a piece today, and it can sate your appetite for months at a time. I grow old, and am feeble in my age, soon I shall pass from this world, and if I could help you, I would gladly shorten my time. I do have a question for you, but first I must know your name."

She took the bread nervously, and took a small bite, "My name is Dana, thank you very much, are you sure you don't want to share this? I don't need all of it, I can get more food in the morning."

"That's quite all right my child, I can get more if I need it, and I don't think that I will. I sense great power in you Dana, I have been on a journey for many years, so many, and I have forgotten their number. I'm returning to the abode I left so long ago, that I may pass into the next realm peacefully. Please, join me, and I will teach you all that I know. I have been alone on my journeys, and it would warm my heart to have a companion in these my last days. When I die, you can continue my quest, I will leave you my estate and you can return to any life you wish to"

"I don't know, I don't have the proper clothing, and I have never sensed this power you speak of. Why would you offer me so much, you have just met me."

"I will prove to you your power, if you come with me. Tonight we can find an inn to sleep at, and in the morning I will buy you proper clothing. It is true, I do not know you, but to humor an old man in his last days is worthy of all I have and much more. I promise you, upon my honor, upon the honor of the One that my intentions are honorable."

Dana smiled gratefully and embraced the old man, kissing him gently on the cheek, "thank you so much, I just hope I am worthy to follow you, I will try not to be a burden."

The man laughed gently, his eyes smiling for the first time in a very long while, "burden, my dear, you are none, I assure you, else I would not have invited you." He gently took her hand, and kissed it gently, "let us away, the spirits are out tonight, and you do not yet know how to protect yourself against the malevolent entreaties of the dead."

Together they walked away from the town square, her footsteps fell lightly upon the cobblestone, and she scraped her worn shoes as she walked along the empty streets. The man's steps were silent, even when he kicked a rock or stepped upon a fallen leaf, he made no sound as he drifted with his companion through the town.

They found a small inn on the outskirts of the village. The fire still burned hot in the fireplace, and the two warmed their bones. Dana ordered a pint of ale, and the man sat reflectively smoking a pipe, drinking a very fine aged cognac. They spoke of many things, she of her life, how she had come to be an orphan and without a home. He spoke of many adventures and of the magic that helped him along his way. The hour grew late, and the two travelers retired to their rooms. Each slept well that night, the man happy in finding a companion and love, Dana sleeping for the first time in a warm bed in many years.

The sun glinted gaily through the window, birds chirped happily in the trees, and the sky was cloudless and the most perfect shade of blue. Dana awoke, rested, and happy. She looked about her room, wondering why this man had been so kind to her, what it was that had drawn him to her.

On the nightstand a repast had been set out before her. Tea, small cakes, and some eggs, still steaming, were waiting for her to break the nights fast. Such splendor had she never seen, and she was afraid to eat it, lest its beauty be mauled by her greedy fingers. The food, however, smelled more sweetly than any food she could remember, and her stomach won over her sense of aestheticism, and she began to eat, savoring each bite as if it would be her last.

As she finished her meal, she noticed a bag filled with coins and a note from him. "Please take this money, and buy yourself a dark hooded cloak, a pair of shoes and a satchel. Meet me at the fountain in the center of town, where we last night met, at the noontide hour. If this is not enough, tell the innkeeper, and he will give you what you need from my stores, I have arranged for it. If there is extra, feel free to use it as you will, I have not much need for money, and you may treat yourself to whatever frivolities you see fitting. Until we meet again, may your day be bright, and your life brighter still."

She stepped out into the cool, crisp morning air rejuvenated. Her lungs filled with the sunlight, and she felt the breath of life become a part of her. She walked along the roads into town, looking into the shop windows, realizing that if she wanted something, she could have it. She did not feel right about taking his money, but she had never felt this freedom before, and she planned on what she might get, if she had extra money after she bought the accoutrements for her journey.

After a few roads had met an parted, she found a small shop selling cloaks and robes, she entered into the dimly lit store and looked at all the different colors and varieties of robes. Her eyes came across one that seemed to call to her, it was a deep purple velvet robe, held together at the neck with a perfect circle of black onyx, surrounded by a silver ring. She asked to try it on, and refused to take it off, she entered the shop an urchin; she left a lady.

Next to the cloak shop was a small cobbler's shop. She walked in and smelled the lye and ammonia used to cure the leather, she looked about at the many shoes the owner had mad, and asked him if there was anything he had that might be good for her in her journeys. The man went into the back of the shop, and returned after sometime holding a pair of the most well crafted sandals Dana had ever seen. They were perfect in every detail the leather looked as if it was cut from one piece, rather than pieced together, where there were stitches, they were measured perfectly, never diverging from their path. She smiled warmly when she saw them, and again tried them on, and refused to take them off. She paid for them, and gave the storeowner a small tip for having made such perfect works of art. She left the store happily, more satisfied than she had ever been.

The owner asked her to stay a moment before Dana left, and again slipped into a back room. When he came back, he procured a purple velvet satchel of the same craftsman ship of the sandals. The thread was silver, and the clasp was a small silver disk with the most intricate designs of a forest engraved in it. Though the man wanted no payment, she gave him the last of her money, feeling that anything she could have found, would not have made her happy as her new attire. She wandered around the town in her new dress, head uplifted toward the sky, listening to the bustle of the town, smelling the breads and cakes from the bakeries, and the meats of the butchers. She felt like a new person, reborn into a world of joy and happiness, the world she had known was only darkness and destitute. Before much time passed, the sun rose to its zenith, and she, forgetting to pay attention, rushed to the fountain, fearing she would be late to her meeting.

When she arrived at the fountain, the man was nowhere to be seen, so she sat on a bench, and watched the people walk by her. Every so often a boy or man would take extra time to notice her, and she smiled, never knowing anyone to think her beautiful. For nearly an hour the people hurried past on their ways to their next destination. Dana became anxious, no one ever came an hour late, she believed something must have happened, and when she decided she would need to look for him, the man appeared, undaunted by his tardiness, smiling and singing lightly under his breath, and Dana watched as he approached her nonchalantly.

"You were nearly an hour late, I was really worried about you," she said with relief and aggravation in her voice.

"Ah, my dear, you have learned your first lesson," he replied jovially, "you can never trust a wizard to be on time. I have something for you. You see this staff I carry always with me, no good journeyer can journey without a good staff. I did not tell you to buy one, and I only gave you enough money to buy what you needed, consequently, only enough, and exactly what you would need, because I wanted to get you a present."

From his robe he removed a long object wrapped in silver cloth and handed it to Dana. She opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the delicate silk. When it was unwrapped, she held in her hands an oaken staff, the bark had been stripped off, and it had been sanded to a perfect white. It was smooth, and was glossed as if it had been used for a thousand years before, and at the top sat a beautiful golden angel with a trumpet. She did not say a word, a tear fell from her cheek, and again she embraced the man, unable to articulate her gratitude and joy.

"Come now, he spoke gently, it's a trifle really, we must be on our way. I have bought provisions for the nights to come, and the way bread will keep you energized for some time. Shall we away then?"

And with that he left the town as silently as he had entered, and Dana followed, trying to match the silence that the man had perfected.

For a month they journeyed through forest and fen. He taught her every thing he knew, every plant they encountered he named and told her each of his special properties. Every night he tested her, and reviewed all that she had forgotten. Some nights he taught her spells and majiks ancient and arcane. He told her all he had learned of the One, and why the One needed to be found. He became her friend, her teacher and her mentor.

She listened to him attentively, hung on every word he said as if its importance was so great that one lost would disallow her to understand anything. Slowly she developed the sight, and her senses were as keen as the old mans. She was soon able to cast spells and speak many different tongues. The man became her friend, her teacher, and her mentor.

After many days, they came upon a small village, inhabited by a band of wizards, priests, and scholars. Before they entered they mysterious streets the man said to Dana, "in this village is the home I left so long ago. It has stood for centuries waiting for me to return. I soon will die, and I wish to die in the comfort of the only place I have ever called home. Please stay with me, in these my last hours, I have given you much, and this is all I ask of you. When I am gone, you may use your knowledge as you see fit, and I can teach you little more in my old age."

Dana replied, with tears brimming in her eyes, "My friend, how can you pass on, you are a wizard, wizards are immortal. Please tell me that you are just resting, you have given me so much, and I do not know that I can live with out you."

"Child, I am a wizard, but was born of a mortal womb. I have lived longer than most men, but I cannot live forever, the time has come for me to pass into the next plane of existence. I will always watch over you, but I can travel with you no longer. I have taught you much, and you can live on your own now, if you remember all I have said."

"I will stay with you, but I cannot promise my happiness. You are my best friend, and I don't want to loose you."

He kissed her cheek gently, his lips salted with her tears, "I cannot promise my happiness, I am passing away after all, you are my best friend, and I don't want to be lost."

The man did little teaching in his final days, he lived with Dana recounting past adventures, telling her humorous tales of his journeys. He lived each day in remembrance of the life he lead, and though he didn't show it, she could sense his longing to remain. Each day passed for him as many days flashing by. At night he slept and his dreams were troubled, filled with the fear of the unknown. Dana could not sleep, she sat and watched his troubled face, she had never seen torture in his visage before, it was as if he had never felt pain until now, and it caused her much fear and grief.

One day he became very sick, and could not leave his bed. For a week he lay, barely breathing, eating, or talking. Sometimes he would ask her to sing, and he would fall asleep to the sound of her tears mingling with her beautiful soprano. The days passed slowly, both waited, watched for death, both hoping his clammy hands would be delayed, perhaps eternally, but both knew the man soon would be gone.

When his sickness reached its peak, the man asked Dana to hear his last words, that she know why he pursued the journey for so long, and refused to give it up even in death. "When I was much younger, I found God. God died in my arms, and told me to seek the One, he gave me this amulet, and as he was telling me what it was for, he died. I wept silently, but I never knew what to do with this. Now I give it to you, continue my journey, or not, but always remember me. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and though I was much too old for you, I wanted to show you that love. I love you, and now that I have said it, I must leave this world."

With that he slipped the amulet around Dana's. She smiled at him joyfully, her face showing absolute love and happiness. She disrobed herself before him. Her skin was the purest white, and it radiated a light brighter still than a thousand suns combined. Her radiance overcame all and filled the room. The smiled with understanding even before she spoke.

"Kindness like yours, I have never known," she said, "and this your final gesture of generosity has proven you worthy to know why you fell in love with me. This generosity has proven you alone worthy of finding that which you seek. I am the One. You saw me that night by the fountain, and fell in love with me, despite my appearance; you knew my power and my strength of spirit. I was always to be yours, and you were always to be mine since the beginning of our existence. If you would, be my husband, thus we can live together forever in the vaults of heaven in joy and eternal bliss. I gave this amulet for God, to give to you, to give to me. Without knowing it, you have completed this cycle of our love, you have shown that you truly sought me and loved me. I love you, my friend, please join me, you need never feel anything but joy ever again."

At her words, the man's skin smoothed, its wrinkles disappeared, his pallor was replaced with a brilliance equal to that of the One's. He stood up, she embraced him, and they kissed more passionately than any couple has ever kissed. Together they rode the winds to the heavens, and were wedded as the mighty Seraphim sang their strains; praising the One and her husband, and thus he became part of the One, that which he had sought through the end of his days. Together they watch over all, complete in happiness and spirit, for the One is naught without her husband, and the man naught without his wife.