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Quietly running a hairbrush through her long, inkblack strands of her hair, Misjilah is gazing at the long mirror infront of her.
The mirror seems pricey, especially for an elder like her. It is edged with silver, with patterns laid in with gold. It is decorated with flowers and leaves, only elaborating it's beauty. And there she sits, Misjilah, gazing upon the mirror and her own reflection.

The lady has aged a lot, seen in the wrinkles on her skin, so aged and worn down. Her hands crumpled up, thinned. Yet her greyblue eyes, emotionless and cold, still gaze sternly at the mirror. Those eyes....They were once called the orbs of eloquence by a prince in the lands abroad. Oh how much he had desired her, Misjilah. But no love she felt for him, and she quickly left those lands in search for more. But that was 3000 years ago, when her beauty was still renowned.
She lays down her brush for a moment, gliding a hand through her hair. The elfess seems undisturbed in her room upon Vanima. The winds rustle through the leaves of the trees outside. Yet she does not seem to notice, or atleast not care. She lays her hands in her lap, stroking with the fingers of her right hand over the back of the left.
Those 3000 years, and never had she tried to cure herself. Yet it was within reach so often. She should not have waited so long. But all is well now, and the cure shall soon be applied.

No longer an aging being in a dying world, no. Soon she will rule with firm hand once more, make the world breathe again. No longer just beauty on the inside, excellence on the inside, no, the beauty on the surface will be back. The world shall be stunned...

The orbs of eloquence. The whole scene where the prince called her that flashed before her. It seemed like yesterday, as if those 3000 years had made absolutely no impact on her. She gazes at the mirror once again, yet the view was different.

Her skin was smooth, and pearly-white. It nearly glowed, as pale as it was. The wrinkles on her face had faded into nothingness, her refined features as defined as before. High cheekbones, small purdy mouth. She had achieved near perfect-ness by channeling the life force of Silas into restoring her own. The power it had, incredible.
She brushed her knee-long, silvery white hair behind her ears. She had bleached it using a special formulae that has been in her family for ages. Even her brother used it highly often.

Oh her brother. The moment she revived him she felt relief, yet she also felt...Aggrevated. His presence was so demeaning to her, the disgrace he had given the family so grand. Yet, his presence also granted her so much power. She would have to see if it was the right decision. Running a brush through her long hair she ponders on it once more, whether it really would be the right decision.
Only the millenia will tell. Only the millenia will appreciate her newfound beauty. But not even the millenia can take it away. Not now, not ever again. It was hers once more, the power to charm and seduce her way to the top.