Legend tells often tells us the story of a peoples past, like that of she Shyris...

         stories tell of one who is the mother of the Shyris, a great race who through time came to be known by many names, the Seelie, the fey, the elves and many more. said that she, the first Queen of fey who gave birth to the first of them. It said that after millennia of ruling the children she had birthed she choose one of her daughters to become the next queen and bestowed on her a gift of silver and gold. Upon receiving this gift, the daughter was transformed. her blood became the silver and her magic became the gold that would protect, heal, and strengthen her people. Then the nameless goddess left, promising that she would come back for each of her children one day to take them to her eternal home, and her daughter ascended to the thorn and ruled until Time in a jealous rage demanded that she leave his realm. So her mother returned, but only for the briefest of moments, to take her home. Upon the second queen's death she choose the only of her children to inherit the gift, a daughter, to take up the crown.

          And so it was, as the decades and centuries and millennia's passed so did the crown from one gifted child to the next. Until there came a time when wars were fought because more than one child of royal blood had been born with the gift. but as the occurrence become more and more frequent, the position of sovereignty was to be handed to the first born gifted child.

         But a time came when there was only one princess who she alone in her generation received the gift. But even she cold not wield the powers granted her for her abilities lay dormant with. Some say it is because of this that Time did not grow jealous of her and Instead of demanding that her heart stop beating, he allowed her stay with her family and young children.

         ...But legend does not tell us everything. For example, it doesn't tell of the young miller who dared to love a princess...

         "Jon."

         "Yes father"

         "there's someone hear to see you"

         "Who is it?"

          The burly man stepped aside to revel the silhouette of a young women against the light of a full moon. She stood nervously in the door way, holding a large basket and looked expectantly at Jon.

          "You are Jon Dov'eaire?"

          "Yes"

          "then I would like to speak with you... alone if you please."

          Jon glanced cautiously at his father and upon reserving an encouraging nod presided to follow the girl down steps of the porch and little ways away from house. He did not know the girl, but he knew the crest engraved in to the clasp of her cloak. It matched the one worn by his lover. The lover he had not seen for almost ten months now. A sick feeling had settled in his stomach as they made they made there way down the path.

          "what has happened" he asked the moment they were out of hearing range. She held the basket she carried out to him in answer. He took it unsure of what to do, but when she prompted him to uncover it, he did so pulling back the thick cloth. The action reveled a small bundle of blankets, among them he cloaks that had belonged to the women he loved. Nestled among the layers of cloth one could just make out the face of a sleeping infant no older than a few weeks. The girl watched as realization dawned and a ... of emotions crossed his face before settling on worry.

          "What of its mother"

          "I'm sorry but her mother is dead" her words struck him like a sword through the gut. "the child was born prematurely, and the labor was a difficult one. She did not survive long after the birth but charged me with finding you and delivering the child to you before she died. I-I am truly sorry." Then seeing there was nothing to do to console him, she turned to leave.

          "Wait"

          She paused to looked back at him and saw the anguish on his face.

          "Yes?"

          "Please, she never told me her true name, but surly you know it. Please tell me." she shook her head and have him a sad sympathetic smile.

          "My mistress told me you would ask, but she bid me not to tell you."

          "your Mistress?" he asked a sliver of hope creeping into his voice and the girl suddenly seemed vary pale in the moon light

          "I mean - I – She – I must go now" with that she turned and hurried away.

          "Wait" He called out and made as if to follow. But the muffled cry of an infant stopped him. He looked down at the babe and felt a tightening in his chest. Looking back up he watched the faded shadow of a figure as it disappeared in to the distance before finely making his way back indoors.

         Upon reentering his him he come face to face with his father and mother. He watched, and they waited. Finally, an explanation was given when the child let out anther cry. Jon looked down at the basket he held once again not knowing what to do.

        "Come let me see Jon." it was his mother's soft voice that broke the silence. He moving to a near by chair he set the basket down on it then stepped aside so that his mother could see the child. The women gently pulled back the layers of cloth to reveal the baby girl beneath. She whimpered at the sudden invasion of cold.

        "Shh, come here child" the older women picked up little girl and cradled her in her arms, then turned to show her to Jon. "Look, she has your eyes." When he didn't respond she looked up at him only to find there were tears in his own eyes. "what's wrong, dear?"

        "She looks just like her" he said looking at his daughter. His mother glanced at her husband. His father took the hint and stepped closer to place a comforting hand on Jon's shoulder and his mother placed his daughter in his arms before stretching up to place a kiss on his forehead. The small family stood sounding its news member

       "What will you call her?"

       "Sharia, just like her mother" he said, and his mother smiled

       "well then, welcome to your new home Sharia."

       ...and sometimes legend it only tells part of the story. 

The Shyris speak of a gifted prince. They say that he was the eldest son of the sleeping Queen and his father was on from the ancient race of dragons. He was to be second in command to his twin sister who the hair to the throne and with whom he shared the gift. Corrupted by jealousy and pride, he tried to kill his sister and in an attempt at treason so that he might take the throne for himself. But his plans were thwarted and as punishment he was striped of all his power and status then banished to the land of humans. A place where his kind could not live long lives as they were meant to, for the land of humans was poisonous to the Shyris and would slowly kill them if they sent to much time with in its borders.