Palm up the hand curls slightly
As the lantern flickers shadows
Upon the dim walls
I am for you…
All that lives and breathes
Leads, follows, stands
When you call
I will take the sword of self
And cut the shadows that curse you
Or fall between us
At your word
For what is right
… I bend as the willow
For what is right
… I stand as the oak
For what is right
… my blood will stain the earth
of oak and willow
falling willingly to its embrace.
scrawled beneath the ancient words, barely legible, was the following:
I, the seed of Mondain
Sever forever the tome of virtues
Lost, lost for all time.
Yet by virtue of those virtues I despise
Must I leave a trail,
For one more powerful than I
Has ordained it.
Curse you all.
Lap up the miles
Between yesterday and today
Find me near the recess of land
Where stones grow, one by one
And the earth is never at rest
Is one who knows the secret of
… Spirituality.
Yet only in the dark of the moon
When Himinbjorg reigns
The cliffs of Heaven
On the night of the day
of the soul figure's number
Can the spirit rise
Quests
Tome of the Virtues
Twilight Dreams
