Saturday, January 19, 2013

I don't remember why I started writing this, but it took off on its own and ended up here.  It wanted a different ending, but I convinced it to end how I wanted.


The Ways of the Wyrm
            by Stick

I worried constantly.
It was only a matter of time
Before another came to claim
That which I claimed as mine.
They would be fools
To face one such as I,
But fools there were in plenty
Who felt the need to try.

Their many moldering corpses
Now littered my front step
For I heard rumors of their coming
Long before they leapt
Out into my parlor
Their challenge to cry forth
In dialects of the East,
Or from the frigid North.

I let their bodies lie there
To finish baking in the sun
As a warning to any others
That it would be wiser to turn and run.
The putrid, festering bodies
Lent a bouquet to the air
That pleased me in a subtle way
Knowing they were there.

Now I had been worrying
For several days on end
I could sense a disturbance--
An annoying, mocking trend.
It was a movement in the air,
A faint unfamiliar scent,
On the edge of my senses,
Against which I could not vent.

It disturbed me in my waking hours,
And left me restless in my sleep.
I was constantly pacing round
The halls of my vast keep.
I was searching for I knew not what,
Perhaps some shadow in the dark.
But my vigilance was fruitless
My view stayed bare and stark.

 I knew someone was coming,
Whether hero, thief, or mage
No worry--My flame had claimed many such
From every clime and age.
They would fall to my mighty breath
Or to my talons sharp,
And only rumors would return,
From some bardic harp.

I heard a noise across the pass
That led into my vale.
I smelled the odor as a camp was made
Down in the river dale.
I was surprised as I realized
That this one had come alone.
Something none had done before
Of those made of flesh and bone.

My curiosity was piqued,
For this thief didn’t fit the mold,
So I determined to speak to them
To learn why they were so bold.
 I silently left my cloistered den,
The sky was black as ink,
And soared upward on the zephyr wind
As the sun stood upon the brink.


A wispy tendril of smoke
Pointed to the brazen camp,
Which lay unhidden on the mossy banks
Amidst the dew and damp.
As silent as a falling leaf,
I floated down the air,
Until I settled on a rock
Overlooking what was there.

Now news came to me,
From senses yet unused,
A revelation to help identify
My invader from the mews.
A woman!
And one of ancient years!
But the camp I saw was well kept,
Bereft of the scent of fear. 

As I sat upon the rock,

Looking over the doomed repose,

The object of my search emerged

And seeing me, she froze.

She, however, did not act

Like others I had met.

She did not blanch before my gaze,

Her eyes ablaze and set.

 

With amazement I heard her speak

A name I thought none knew.

MY NAME! Long hidden,

Concealed from human view.

“Azrondial, you old Wyrm,

Long have I sought this place,

For I come to bring your doom,

And converse face to face.”

 

“I seal your breath, and freeze your bones,

With the power of your name.

Your claws are stilled, your eyes are blind,

Your muscles I declaim.

With the power of a White Mage,

I seal you with my curse,

Be still as stone upon that hill

While your evils I rehearse.”

 

“Of all those souls you have killed

Only one matters to me.

You killed my son, while he was young,

In a village by the sea.

You burned the town, that my folk called home.

Leaving me all alone,

And left me to seek, through all the world,

For a vengeance of my own.”

 
“Long I sought to find the power

I needed to bring you down.

Years of searching through musty tombs

‘Til at last the name was found.

Yet still I needed the knowledge

To wield your name with force,

So I set out to the tower of Ar

Where the mages set their course.”

 
“Many long years I studied there

And learnt the wizard’s ways.

Until, at last, my master proclaimed

The end of my apprentice days.

And now you’re here, on that hill of stone,

And stone your body shall be,

And there you’ll sit ‘til the world ends

For all the world to see.”

 
She left him then, and went her way,

Lighter than when she had come.

She had found the peace so long sought,

And taken her vengeance in sum.

And for many long years, the valley was shunned

For none knew the deed she had done,

And I weathered away in the wind and the rain

Sitting under the setting sun.