The Prince took a seat on the bench, turned and watched as the dawn began to arrive. A slight glow, began to lighten the sky. As he strained to see the first rays, he heard a rustle behind him. He turned and stared in disbelief at what he saw. The fingers of the Stone Princess began to quiver. The Prince jumped to his feet. He wanted to run, but he could not take his eyes off what was happening. The fingers were now curling, the hand moved, and finally the arm bent. He followed the movement as the hand joined the other in the Stone Princess lap. The lap was no longer covered by a stone robe, but one of rich purple. The hands were no longer hard and cold, but smooth and soft and warm. Almost afraid to do so, the Prince raised his eyes to the face of the Princess, somehow knowing that it would no longer be lifeless. Indeed the eyes into which he now looked were every bit as alive as his. The cheeks that had only moments before been cold and gray now glowed. The Prince sank back to the bench, afraid. He heard the Princess speak.

“Good morning, my Prince.”

The Prince shook his head and after a moment found his voice.

“I do not understand. I know what I see here, but yet I still don't believe. This must be a dream, and yet I know that I am awake.”

The Princess smiled.

“It is no dream, but rather a story that you will find most strange.”