While the stone-begotten linger around their fair domain many tales of fallacy are spoken of their kind.
Falsehoods of accusations regarding that they are the cradle of furrow magic have corrupted some of their mellow moods.
Ealves are among the purest of creatures, denying all that is against nature and all that flows opposing the vitality of suuväng.
Their morality and approach to life itself rests on a profound foundation, a layer of consciousness that is hard to comprehend to any other race and creature.
Legends told by humans say, that Ealven people are such incredible entities that their stone hearts are emitting gases which glows in the dark. Children of mankind and generations believes that if they capture an Ealf they witness the prisoner’s body to glister up in the night. When that have not happened the captive was slayed or released to the streets to starve. Only if humans would know that it is not pure myth that they speak about.
In truth according to suuväng’s rotation, energy is always flowing. In and out. From one place to the other. From one moment, into the next one.
Sensations and emotions of all kinds shift during the day and when the night comes an Ealf is ought to release all accumulated energy.
For this very reason when darkness falls upon the Ealven people some who’s filled with joyful and pleasant memories of their day will be surrounded with a sparkling aura of light blue sheltering energy.
As their body calmly rests in blissfulness their ethereal glow borders them tenderly. If one leans closer to a person like this, a subtle sound-like sensation could be felt in their presence. The releasing energies resonate in a matter that it almost appears as if their skin was glowing. It is pure power leaving their bodies to reunite with the flow of suuväng.
Those with sorrow and dread in their hearts will lay down cold and grey.
Their presence shall be unheated and iced, as they curl into a fetal position. Even if the night brings a warm summer heat, the Ealf without joy in their heart will shiver through the night.
Whispers of dark matters will surround them as they try to give back something to suuväng, but they cannot. The raw desperation that fills their tortured hearts creates a layer of anguish around them, which cannot be penetrated.
Suffering exists in a profound way in the world of the Ealven. It takes, but it not gives back. It only keeps the living at bay to hinder them from entering the rotation of souls and energies. To whoever is trapped in the grip of hardship there can be only one thing done. An aid of another.
Those, with sinful deeds in their hearts and those who have been abandoned due, cannot return to Suulringen ever again.
Energy and power has to be harvested and for it cannot return to its source, they will linger in never ceasing uncertainty. Cast out and surely, forgotten their cry for help cannot be heard for there is no channel to carry it through.
Of the banished, the Ealven never speak of, and when one of them tries their words will be accompanied with a striking, piercing pain inside their chests.
