Once there was an elf named Artaxerxes,
who dwelt in the centre of the earth,
Artaxerxes crafted sculptures for the kings,
and had lived there since his birth.
The work of Artaxerxes was unparalleled in all the land.
To those who asked him he would tell how it was done,
"Whensoever my muse doth nearby stand,
she speaks to me and work is begun."
There was more truth in this than anyone knew,
for every night when the moon would rise,
there would enter his house Adiela, his muse,
and in his ear she would whisper fair advice.
Over time he began to talk to the muse,
and with one another they would converse.
For Adiela conversing with a physical being was something new,
and for Artaxerxes the same was true but in reverse.
They developed a deep love for one another,
even thought they could not touch.
They would try to hold hands but pass through each other,
and every morning Adiela would fade in the sun.
One night Artaxerxes reached for her hand,
and lo, it was tangible.
After two seconds her