“What do you mean?” she asked in great dread.
“Joy-singing is beautiful,” replied the old man, “but sorrow-singing is better; your lad knows nothing of the bitterness of life, and sings like a delighted child. Wait till he breaks his heart, and he will be a famous singer indeed.”
“But will he be happy?” she asked quickly, as the old man turned to go.
“No: genius is the gift of heaven, but it always brings sorrow to its possessor; the laurel wreath is a sign of honour, but the leaves are bitter.”
Eldina looked steadily into the eyes of the old man, and saw that he was a faery who had come to warn her of approaching sorrow. She strove to detain him and learn more, but the faery had vanished, and her hands only grasped the rags of a scarecrow which stood in the fields.
That night she died, and Lanis, who was deeply attached to her, wept bitterly as they buried her under the cool green turf. Before she died, Eldina called him to her bedside, and told him all about the faeries, bidding him wander through the world and seek the one gift which they could not bestow. Lanis wept, and although he could not understand what she meant, still a vague idea of her real meaning came to him as he sat by her grave under the silent stars and sang a farewell. There was a note in his voice which had not been there before, and the simple people in the village awoke at midnight to hear his sad voice float through the still air of the summer’s night.
“It is sorrow-singing,” they said to one another. “Lanis will never be happy again.”
And they were right, for Lanis now started to wander through the world and find out how cruel and hard it can be to those who have sensitive souls and childlike faith. He was full of belief in human goodness and kindness of heart, for he had received nothing else but kindness in his country home; but now his mother was dead, the spell was broken, and he set forth to find the gift of happiness.
Many months he wandered, singing his songs, sometimes sad, sometimes joyful, but in all there sounded the weary note of longing for what he was seeking.
“Where can I find happiness?” he asked an old beggar who lay by the wayside.