Elanecarne, the mystical Altmer, sits indolently atop a wall in Shinji’s Scarp staring off into the distance, seemingly oblivious to the furore and bedlam raging all about. She notices neither my approach, nor my faltering salutation which swift becomes lost to her faraway eyes.
I have neither the eloquence of a bard, nor the hand of an artist, thus I cannot hope to convey a portion of the beauty reflected in the Altmer’s eyes. Endless horizons, rainbows of colours I had never before seen, a world blossoming so recklessly that I wanted to look away, or never look away, I could not decide. For a brief moment of eternity, I and the whole of Tamriel were adrift within her faraway eyes.
But then she blinked, and that moment was forever gone… if it were ever anything more than my imagination.