Alone in the night, Fijo is crying; she has been left by her husband who had to leave to fight the darkness of matter. Thoughts of what once was flow through her mind; their play in the green grass and under colourful trees, wonderful fields of flowers, fresh [bad word] and berries, and beautiful music from the elven [bad word] waters make them dream, lakes where they bathed, riverfalls and marvelous clouds in the sky. They were happy, they had their Golden Age. Now, all she has left are her Golden Tears, [bad word] from her skyblue eyes, as a witness to what once was - to what is lost forever; until a New World is born, after Ragnarök. In the meantime, give our dear Fijo some warm thoughts, to help her through the cold nights.