Do you ever feel like you are waiting for something, but you aren't sure what? Like you should be doing something, but are not sure what?

Long ago in an village by a tall cliff, there was once a story the wise ones told of this. Though I don't know if it is still told now, it is still found on the pages of dusty old books, that, too, wait. I will translate it here as best I can.

For three days the prince waited by the cliff, and for three days she did not come.

For the first day he laughed. She was the playful sort. Surely she was simply distracted.

For the second day he worried, for a day was a long time, and he knew few things could keep her attention.

For the third day he cried, for he knew she loved him too much to stay away for so long.

But still he stayed. For he could do nothing else.

Until one day, a woman came and asked him to come with him to the edge. She made him look down below where he saw the body of his love.

“Now we can finally be together” she said. But the prince had learned much of magic, and spoke something like these words:

“As I have waited here, so to shall you wait, and so shall your daughters and their sons wait, until not one man can tell who it is you wait for.”

And so it was that he had grabbed the woman's mother, and hurled himself to his death, for there never was a woman so intent to see her daughter wed to a prince as her.

And so it is that until this day, there are some that wait, and have waited, and some that shall wait until they are too old to know they are waiting.

And still you will here the older people in that village warn the children to remember who waits for them, lest they find themselves the ones waiting.