It was only now that he realised what all of thoose little doubts, all of thoose insignificant  misgivings, all of thoose tiny clues ammounted to; She wasn't like him. Nor, for that matter were they. Standing before him, resplendant in omnipotent glory, golden hair piled high into a crown-like halo, proud head thrust high, was Elvira. A new, glorious reincarnation of his old, average and reliable freind, she towered above where he lay, slumped on the floor, a magnificent scarlet robe flecked with gold and interwoven with peacock-feathers and emeralds draped flawlessly around her strong but slender figure. She wore great mounds of gold and jewels about her wrists and neck, too much for no occasion, with her greatest accessory displayed upon her beautiful face for all to see; her hauntingly-brilliant eyes. Unlike a humans, Elvira's eyes were perfectly formed almond shapes, entirely filled by one dazzling colour. Right now, they were a striking shade of electric blue, flecked with flint-grey flecks of colour - The exact shade of flying.

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