Upon a sightless steed of midnight she rides ever into the west.
     Her armor gleams and flows, alive with purple shades of beach litten skylines and the mysterious brilliance of liquid gold dancing on lost desert horizons.
     To see her is a short-lived blessing. To meet her is a forbidden sin. Draw too near and she will fade, for where once the Lady strode her younger brother Lord of the Midday will appear.
     No terrain can bar her endless westward path. Dark Ocean cannot consume her out of jealous want, nor can tall gray mountains exhaust her in the hope she will rest near them. The lady’s path is set long and narrow, always leading ‘round this sphere to where she has forever begun and to a destination she will never reach.
     Three arms was she given as reminders of her eternal tasks. Defend the fourth wind that lies on her path, Guide her elderly father King of Stars behind her, and Hold the reigns upon her sightless steed of midnight as she rides ever into the west.
     Forever into the west.