A simple stone cairn on the edge of a cliff is known locally as the Leap.
Here a foolish noble did his best to prove his indestructability and all but succeeded. Waylance Aske, scion of a noble house was determined to prove that the blood of the fey ran in his veins. His chosen method was to ride his horse off the edge of the cliff - certain in his own mind that the fey would protect him. In the event, gravity paid more attention than any passing fey and he landed with broken legs on his still more broken horse. Rescued the following day, he claimed to the end of his life that his survival proved his fey blood. He was not believed.
For all his foolishness, Waylance may have been right. It is possible he simply misinterpreted an older and stranger story. Long ago, it is said, poets and bards would take the Leap. For the worthy, the fey would catch and hold them. When they returned home, they would have the words of the fey in their ears ever after. There was a price, of course. Their ravings were couched in such terms that few could understand them. If any leaped and survived, their names are unknown. For those that did not, their bones still lie at the foot of the Leap.
Sometimes their spirits still walk.