Only a matter of hours later, the girl was asleep on a couch by the fire. Anest had laid her there when she began to nod off, and covered her with a warm blanket.
"What a monstrous thing!" Palindor muttered under his breath, watching her. "A year. Cannot something be done?"
Lily said nothing, but Anest, rather than answer his question directly, said, "The magic of the elves, indeed all magic within the Four Kingdoms, has not been altogether lost, Palindor. In fact, it is as it ever was. It is we who are blind to it. Magic is not something one acquires . . . it is that one's eyes open.
"The earliest age of our peoples was called the Age of Innocence. That title was not given gratuitously. We were once open to all that was around us. But as our knowledge of good and evil grew, so did we unwittingly set up barriers within ourselves, if only to protect ourselves from becoming corrupt.
"The struggle changed over the ages, and by degrees, instead of being fought out there, more than ever before, it is being fought in here," he said, pointing to his own chest. He paused, as though gazing into the uncertain future.
"It is in my heart," he continued, "that one day, the struggle between good and evil will not be fought in the outward, visible world of magic at all. I think that one day, that struggle will take place within each of us. And I think, too, that the world of magic may well become lost altogether."