The Journeyman Wizard was approaching a lush garden. Some bizarre garden it was; with white tree bark, and leaves of rich purple. A voluptuous woman of plain, yet comely features was tending to a bed of flowers. Her skin was pale like the bark, and her hair and eyes were purple like the flowers. 'How comes,' asked the Journeyman, 'That plants bearing such sickly colors, can look so strong and healthy?'. The woman smiled. 'It is because of Love. It makes it possible to accept such Paradox. Poison and medicine, ugliness and beauty...' She looked him in the eye. 'Will you stay at my garden, Good Master?' 'What makes you think I am good?' retorted the young Wizard in a sly manner. The woman pushed aside some flowers, showing the blossoms were growing on a pile of human bones. She smiled again, showing sharp teeth. 'There is something good in everyone.' The Journeyman bowed, tipping his hat. 'You will find there is much more than that to me, Fair Lady.'