The gods were not amused at this attack from their own creation. However, the surge had also drawn the False Winds of transportation to a standstill, so they reveled in the peasant Nashus’ quandary.
             Nashus and his boss stood dumbstruck and unmoving. Finally, the shop owner broke the silence. “Nashus,” he said, “What will you do?” Nashus exhaled deep and long. For the briefest of moments his shoulders sagged. Then he drew in a sharp breath,
            “I will go home, to my Love. I am done here.”
             “But without the False Winds, how will you get there?”
             “I will run.”
             “That is madness, Nashus! It will take hours! You will never make it before nightfall.”
             “Well, I will try. I can only try.”
             “And if you fail? What will become of your Love if the Fire-Orb has set and she has not yet made it to your home? The False Fire has been extinguished and the streets will be overrun with night. What if some unsavory character should happen upon her? Who will protect her then?” This unusual and overly negative diatribe terrified Nashus, and his forehead began to bead.
             “I suppose,” he began slowly, “that I will have to run faster, then. Goodbye.”
             And without another word, he started to run. He glared at the Fire-Orb as he sprinted, daring it to set before he reached home.

Nashus ran and ran, encountering all manners of wood-demon and street-goblin on his way. They tried to paw and claw at him, but he was too nimble and single-minded in his purpose. Getting home quickly proved an arduous task; the streets were filled with people like never before, with everyone clamoring to discuss the collapse of the False Fire. But whenever Nashus deflected toward the alleyways and forests, he encountered beasts and thieves.
             But eventually, just as the Fire-Orb was slipping away for the evening, he made it home. As he rounded the corner to his house, Nashus’ sweat ran cold. Where was his Love? He could not see her! Had she been accosted? He tried to call her name, but his heart caught in his throat and blocked out any sound.
             “Beloved.” Nashus looked all around, searching for the source of this melody.
             “Beloved.” Who keeps saying that? Nashus began to wonder if it was in his mind.
             “Beloved.” There it was again. His ears compelled him to look upward, where he saw the most perfect sight. There on his rooftop, framed by the setting Fire-Orb and the rising Night Fire-Orb, sat his Love. She smiled at him. First with her lips, then with her eyes. Those eyes. So bright.
             “My beloved Nashus, you have run so far! Please, come up here and hold me tightly.”
             “I will,” Nashus replied, ignoring his aches and pains, “But you must promise me that you will not close your eyes. The Trees have shifted in front of the Night Fire-Orb and the light of your eyes is all I have.”
             She became Happiness itself, a being of teeth and eyes and cheeks and all that is good. At long last, Nashus and his Love sat high above the once-cacophonous city, reveling in their quiet, peaceful, love-lit comfort. For the first time in history, the gods had closed their eyes and only the Trees were tall enough to watch over the world.

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