Raspan stood at the bottom of a staircase seemingly made of crystalline starlight.  It rose up into the sky, climbing toward the brightest star in the sky, an eight pointed star known as the Dragonstar by the elves.  Stepping on to the stairs, the young elf felt a weightlessness about him that made each step easier.  He ascended what seemed to be miles of stairs in mere minutes, and soon he was so high up that he could not see below him. 

You’re almost there! A voice called to him as he neared the precipice of the mysterious stairs.  He glanced around, seeking the source of the encouraging call.  It seemed very close, almost as though it was just behind him.  But nothing was nearby in the dark, starry sky.  Undaunted, he continued to climb.

Once he reached to the top of the mystical steps, he faced a wide open glass floor that reflected the Dragonstar above, shining as though it was scant yards away.  At the opposite end of the landing from the stairs was a narrow pillar of white light, seeming to ascend to the very heart of the star from the floor. 

Somehow Raspan knew that was why he was here.  He needed that light.  It was very important.  As he reached for it, an incredible force started to push against him, like a wind from the worst storm.  He tried to step forward, but his feet began to slide back.  Unable to control his momentum, he fell forward and was pushed back toward the stairs.  He tried to use the steps to reorient himself but they fell away under his feet, shattering into twinkling fragments of starlight, leaving him to cling to the cold, slippery platform, suspended miles above the ground.

What’s the matter?  The voice asked.  You can do it!

“I can’t!” he shouted to the air.  “It’s too strong!”

Well, why do you ask me for help?

Raspan looked around.  “Where are you?”

I’m right here!  Trust me!

The elf twisted back to the light, still trying to get up onto the platform.  His grasp slipped and he fought to retain his hold.  “Help me!” he cried desperately.  “I need that light!”