Erel Arth Ilkthe (Where Fools Follow)
bent and bowed
tired and broken
he trudged onward
torch burning low
once shining armor
once pristinely polished
tarnished, bent
yet still intact
sword drawn
blade ready
but notched
and not as sharp
there came a wind
a blast a gust
cold unforgiving
sharp and biting
a sign that he had
reached the end
of the caverns
freedom was near
the shadows flitted
dancing about his torch
playing with the flame
pulling it away
the wind blew
his torch
once bright and burning
reduced to glowing embers
night pressed in
the immensity
the shadows
darkness loomed
darkness laughed
mortal face powers
far beyond your power
doomed to fail
hope is lost
so spoke the sad winds
so said the skeletons
lying silent upon stone
he paused upon the threshold
this step he dared not take
blind in the darkness
who knew what horrors awaited?
the torch was embers now
no light did it give
hope was fading fast
he would join the others
there was no overcoming
human strength had failed
this knight would retreat
but not from an enemy
no, that which passed
itself for prudence
counseled a retreat
from fear of might
of what might be
lurking in the shadows
waiting, hungry
within the darkness
he wavered on the threshold
for there within him
other counsels were held
forward! for truth and honor!
he wavered on the threshold
debating inwardly
striving with himself
wrestling in thought
knowing every minute's delay
did tax a price to pay
possibilities swirled about
could have beens and doubt
and then in depth of darkness
at the edge of dragon's lair
what should knight happen to hear
but soft patter of feet running near?
he turned, in wonderment, in awe
defenders dark had been dispatched
no minor battle had it been
to reach this cavern deep
who would follow in folly
for if knight failed
then whatever beast did him dispatch
should surely slay poor wretch behind
a light upon the tunnel walls
flittered and danced
nearer it grew
yet shadows pressed in
he listened intent with care
for strange the sound of feet
when the clank of armored boots
or claws did he expect his ears to meet
what creature would venture here?
here at the end of fools follow
beneath the mountains deep
at the edge of shadow's lair
mortal mind uncomprehending
he found himself strangely dreading
for such a footpad must be mighty
and have its own purpose
he gripped his sword tighter
and gazed into the murk
the shadows flittered
the light would soon be near
a battle then it would be
at the edge of dragon's lair
he had forgotten some nemesis
some evil had he left up there
and now it had bided its time
waiting for the cold winds
to extinguish the light he had held
but no, that did not make sense
for what sort of dweller of the dark
doth explore the halls of stone
with a torch in claw or hand?
what then was behind him there?
the light was near now
torchlight it seemed in every way
but torchlight it could not be
his mind told him... no one would follow
indeed no souls dwelt nearby
the legend of these mountains
did not go unheeded
even fools did not follow into here
what wonder then did his eyes behold
than to have greet their wary gaze
a maiden clad in white golden-haired
bearing a torch of fire burning bright
his sword left his hand then
gravity took it with a clang
he fell upon his knees...
no doubt he visions did he now see!
then painless would be this final death
his mind, drunken with fear
had made his final passing easier to bear
whatever horror would soon him slay
would not be one that he would see
instead -- his mind, kind in the end
would give him a fair of vision of a maiden
before he would be off on his celestial way
but the illusion he saw, seeing him fall
only gave a cry of concern
and came close with pace quickened
still bearing the torch in her hand
"Are you alright, Knight?"
the question rang
the stone of mountain deep
gathered in, listening closely
a caring voice?
sounds not of horror
sounds not of terror
sounds not of death?
such wonders had they not heard
since nearly their creation's time
and never since within their realm
since the dragons had come to be
when he opened his eyes
he found the illusion looking intently
brows furled, eyes full of concern
lips pressed tightly together
he wondered... for he should have long been slain
unless this was cruel torment played
by some changling twisted dark
for no mortal maid would ever have come here
no, the winding paths
the darkness, the ever descent
followed soon by the ever ascent
the winding ways, the twisted lairs
not from the forest gate could she had come
nor from the lake gate northward
nor from the high gate lit by the sun
logic, reason and rationale all spoke clearly
the maiden you see
cannot be there
no mortal maid
would even so much as dare
and yet
his eyes
that which he saw
spoke otherwise
"Your light has gone out"
the truth rang
in a calm, quiet voice
tinged with sorrow
sorrow that lights should ever go out
especially in dark places
for what sort of world was it that
light abandoned mortals to darkness?
finding no words but those
that he knew in the elder tongue
the knight spoke them in wonderment
?Kiaminete amalaea?
once those words had found the air
his voice failed him
the shock was too much
he could only gaze, his eyes bound
the words floated upon the air
the stone reflecting the sound
of ancient tongue long forgotten
?Kiaminete amalaea?
Kiaminete
who are you
amalaea
fair lady?
no words did she speak
but those in her eyes
and nimbly she took his torch
and lit it with fire from her own
in time it shall be revealed
now is not the time or place
we are gathered together
at the edge of a dragon's lair
these words passed between
knight and maiden
but no words did they speak
such was the language of their eyes
ayakanetev
stand
dhmarnetev
fight
agaleretev
forward
sharn kor ea shalil
for truth and honor
ancient tones echoed
within the silence that ensued
her strength she lent him then
by what art of means none can tell
and so it was he found himself
standing upon his feet
sword in hand
torch burning bright
the wind came again
cold and heartless
crafty and snaring
pulling at the flames
her hand shielded them
the flames grew still
the fire did not flee
the light was guarded
together they cast their eyes
upon the lair before them
and upon a pile
indeed a pile of bones
sleeping there
lay a dragon
dark red, powerful
strongly sinewed
the knight wondered that the maiden
at his side did not recoil
nor did she utter a cry of terror
but instead stood resolute, determined
a bow she bore he saw now
crafted of pale ash
and strung with a single golden hair
from whence that came, he could guess
their eyes met a moment
and yet an eternity passed
somehow more was said than words can hold
and each knew the other's thought
the art of such a glance, alas
has now been lost
or perhaps,
it was never known
the battle that there upon ensued
other lays of legend do tell
of the slaying of the dragon
where fools follow -- erel arth ilkthe
long and fierce was the fight
yet unscathed did knight and maiden emerge
and the dragon, fell beast fell
pierced with arrows and slashed by blade
and thus was the land freed
for no longer would the dragon fly
and scorch the trees the towns the sky
of all who would dare to dwell near
many years have passed since then
and even more years have passed
and yet the tale of erel arth ilkthe
stands true beyond belief
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