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by fyn
Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #2246801
A power within

I


Moon-silvered hair twisted sinuously
spiraling in the crystal waters
of Bentuin Bagh.

Young druid, perhaps near to
firstmating - blood dried black
where the waters couldn't reach.

Wise crone leans, gnarled, bent
over her stick of walking woman,
eyes, ever sharp, seeking breath.

Balancing on river rock, she prods.
Low moan, a flickering of lids,
panicked inhale: cold, then cleared vision.

He rolls, yet unable to stand, bends low.
Olden one. The words awed from cracked lips.
She reaches out, fingers, nay more claws.

Nudges him to stand with talon beneath his chin.
Looks deep within his leaf-green eyes, her smile
more tongue than tooth: magic can only go so far.

And better, never wasted on the mundane.
He hears her words unuttered aloud.
Come, ye now. Come wi' me.

Slowly, for old crone walks on withered legs
and he,as yet unfocused -predator left job undone.
Deep within yon forest. He would never have found her glen.

You need a name, young traveler.
What you once were, you no longer be.
Henceforth your name is one.

One? One-what? He had no clue.
One didn't argue the message of a goddess.
One did what one was told.

At her bidding, he built peat fire to warm,
steeped a purple tea of rippled leaves.
He drank, then dreamlike, folded in sleep.

He woke, refreshed, clean now, whole.
Thought it had been but a dream.
But no, for the crone eyed him.

She had but one, he saw, bowing his head.
The eldest fae, Queen of the Fin'dawn.
Never dared to wish that high.

Learn these words, youngling. Remember.
You will need them when you do.
Tomorrows will fly ere you forget.

Speak of them naught, nor of this day.
No sweet lover's crooning, nor braggart's boast.
None may know what we do here.

Mydryth drew, she sang in far younger voice.
Bagth tawduin -he felt the words imprint his soul.
Wa'al mic'dorn, fa'al bintuin,

Musing on what such magic would import,
she shook her head: he was not to know.
Confused, he now stood in the wood. Alone.



II


Eons revolved, One now dwelt deep within another forest,
far from his youth, in steps and years.
he'd never thought nor sought a lifemate.

She, of raven wing hair, and cloud-grey eyes,
thought differently. Really, had given him no choice.
Where e'er he went, she followed, or, led.

One oft wondered over winter's fire,
or when leaves fell in scarlet gold--
had he dreamt that long-ago adventure?

He ne'er forgot the words, her spell of what,
he still knew not. No occasion had yet cried
for him those words to speak.

And of the Druid Queen, he'd heard
that she, beyond the veil, had flown.
But then, one never really knew.

En elder now within his clan,
a wise one, truly, having earned his cane.
Willow-wood, flared, he'd earned the carvings.

Of spells, he now was quite the master,
one who was sought, though rarely found.
He and his love, lived deep in forest green.

Yet the world beyond his forest border
had changed and not, he thought for good.
Still, was the way of the human race.

No longer, did they believe in his magic.
Didn't understand what lay beneath their techknowlogy.
Far beyond old ways, old pathways.

His lifemate's fingers branched thickly now,
her ivied tresses, burnished to gold.
Even the fae had measured spans.

Brisk morning air was apt to tighten muscles,
He had to strain to see without his wood.
Something was massing, layered heavy,

Darkness, thick, layered, breathing, pressing down
crushing some and yet not all.
The Dark was rising, gaining strength.

One woke to find but withered shell,
his lifemate gone onto the next. Withered tendrils
turned to dust in his hand. He was alone.


III


Epochs had risen, empires collapsed.
His world no longer one he knew.
He strained to find one worthy.

His forest, what hadn't died, cut down--
each dying tree seared deep within. Searching
for new home took every ounce of failing strength.

Even now, the humans were failing. Viral scourge
ate inside out. Their vaccines, he knew, were hopeless.
There was more to cure than that.

Epidemics were more than illness, their ways
of thinking were sicker still. Did they not know,
had they not learned. that hate just made dark powers grow?

His mate now gone ten thousand years
his will long sapped by diseased growth.
The dark ones turned upon each other.

Across the mountains, vales and seas
One heard their words, their desperate pleas.
They imploded- praying now more akin to swearing.

Didn't anyone care?
Couldn't someone save them?
Was no one going to do anything at all?

He climbed the highest of the Bens.
Raised his staff up to the sky.
Sought back in time for words remembered.

He knew not what it might accomplish,
yet knew he now, twas at last, the time.
With his last breath, he uttered long ago spell.

Mydryth drew bagth tawduin
Wa'al mic'dorn, fa'al bintuin,
And he vanished beyond the pale.




!V



Strong sun pushed back the starry skies.
Rose over lands now newly begun.
The gods murmured in unison.

One last time, for one last try.
Simple changes might prove the test.
Even gods, sometimes, must rest.

A world forested once again,
where animals roamed and flowers bloomed.
An ocean teemed with might fishes,

With moonrise and stunning tide,
One child, he of silvered tresses
crawled from the water to rise, to stand.


















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