The Heights of Pandore
by Craig Waltman
USA
September 2018

Now as far as an eye can see, I can still remember the rolling hills, apple green fields and the ticklish heather between my once curly toes, as I would chase the rainbow’s end… Oh, so trying to catch a silver  lining that I could never keep. For it would always slip through my fingers, or yonder over a hill I was too tired to climb. I must say to my once naively eyes every rock was a monolith, every star a wish, and when I found that they would no longer do, song birds and turtledoves would fill my life as they could only do.

I do tell so lovely was the winter rain upon the rooftop played as sweetly as a childly lullaby in my dreams, and once again to its softly pitter-patter doth my memories wake. For now this old hourly glass by my bedside has countlessly turned with this lifely time, and even still to this very day, this yearnful heart shall never deny, my family’s little house, so provincial it was shall it always find.

Now ago so very long it was when I once roamed the sandy shores and fields so high as a child, but mostly, indeed, I shall remember always Hyison’s seventh birthday. For it would prove that day I would be given these wisely eyes to see the wonder which forever surrounds me. For like some searchful dream for some horizon new, these eyes would see two worlds collide as dreams so very often do.

I must say a memory so fond, so wonderful it was that not a sunly rise hasn’t passed that I’ve not pondered it.

Now the gulls we must follow upon my canvas of reminiscence, unfurled, as cast to the wind our traveling friend, and just as any questly voyage my heart’s journey begins.  To a distant dawn afar, now so long ago when all the evening birds of twilight prepared for their long, brightly slumber, all weary from their nightly toils.  Then with the fidelity of a watchly timepiece when I beheld the nights cadence ever so slowly transforming it’s darkly tone to ever softer shades of indigo, from the early dawns deep. Until, alas, the sun did wink at me as it peeked above that darkly line which forever divides the earth and sky. But then shouldest my silence be far removed, as youthful bounding did my ears detect, for it was Hyison springing he upon the cobblestone as a champion, in the still dewy morning’s misty blue, which yet sadly lingered as a lonely reminder of a day gone by.

Now so very happy was he, as I, as he brimmed with joy, for this was to be his seventh birthday and his grandfather had a most wonderful gift waiting he remembered told… one which would dare never be lost in memories of old. Then so swiftly with lane under foot he became but a mere shadow in the night’s ghostly remains, and, alas, his measure moved more distant as his echoes lulled ever so quickly now. Then I felt within my inwards, as deeply as a birch is seated within the coppery loam of the earth, a yawning well of expectancy overcame me as I suddenly found my footsteps hastening after his. For now I too, with my young heart leading the way hurried upon the same sett path. And then there it was within a flinging of a stone as I glimpsed through the clouds foggy shroud, shouldest Hyison’s grandfathers petitely glass shop as materialized from its vaporous mist, and no sooner would Hyison sprightly dash through its door as expecting he was a most wonderful sight.

Now as I was crouched in my secret place, as these eyes peered through the sweating windowpane all perspiring with beads, shouldest  Hyison’s grandfather dreweth forth a chair and told him to rest for a timely spell, which quite frankly was as trying to tame wildly beasts which knew master it was. For samely as he, I couldn’t bare another grueling second of this the most painful of tortures, and so shall it always be with anticipation. For with an insufferable inevitability it almost always makes the flitting sands of time slowly wane, when, indeed, it was only a few ticks upon the clock. Verily, it would’ve been more tolerable painstakingly sorting through a loft full of knotted gossamers than to endure this lengthy pause, and,

Oh, how I longed for its interruption, but such as it is with this thing called time, just mere moments ebbing by it truly was. And to that very thing which nextly proceeded, I beheld poor Hyison as a helpless captive held with delayed avarice as he sat with the silken burnished armrests clutched firmly in his hands, as he fidgeted from side to side as if though he was trying to polish the oak with the seat of his pants… was not his pantaloons showing the worse for the wear. As all the while it seemed he’s bursting seams began to twine and tuggingly pulled his loosened frays, until nearly they rent as widely as a byre’s door unhinged by the bitter gales of November… so very stout and strong are they when they run the schooners to ground. And I must say, I know not of his, but, indeed, by this such a loathsome task this heart of mine proved to be of the richest earth, for I felt its rooty stirrings even unto my soul and marrow.

Then with a shoulderly tap most comforting his grandfather told, “It is time.”

I must say, it was the grandest words did I ever hear, and needless to say Hyison was so overjoyed that he leaped from where he before impatiently sat, as if though his chair was now upon fire it was. Oh, thereafter his kindly grandfather directed him along a corridor, down through a passageway, a ways back to an oddly door...one which was most apparent that he recognized not its lanky square. For as it seemed he pondered its dumbly detection and how was such a thing so keenly able to pass him by. For there his eyes labored countless hours untold, most attentively observing his grandfather’s skilled hands at their every move, and never before shouldest he recollect such a strangely door…”How couldest ever such a strangely thing be?” considered he within his mind.

Then with a clickety-clack of its old latch brass did so whine the agedly hewn door, as Hyison pushed he onward rippling the air just within. And a most peculiar sight it was as the dust as thistledown swirled around him in its whimsical flight, upon golden beams of sunlight which poured through the mothly worn, dappled drapes as cleanly as milk through a cheese cloth. Now as upon its aching walls was there not to be a spot without a patch, and were, Oh, so carefully huge frames without pictures and clocks that have all since longly stopped with time.

Then as I stealthily moved as to better my view, as quietly as a cupboardly mouse was I… I in my cunning as I spied beyond the corridor’s rift, what now yet emerged unto me as if by some twirling vision brewed, in a summery frolic, and shouldest its lovely miasma becloudeth my eye, for there nestled most pridefully within its innermost was a beautiful glass mural, which most strikingly contrasted this oddly lot so motley I must say. For there I seen etched upon its perfectly stained glass was a young lad soaring astride a winged sabretooth, and furnished with a shield most glorious he grasped. It was as harvest gleaned in winter most out of place it was, for who could have ever known through this door of quandary such beauty laid…not I, I darest say. Then nextly Hyison asked he in a state of baffled befuddlement as he puzzled and exclaimed, “Why grandfather, pray tell what is this thing?”

For one could easily construe by his countenance, he hadn’t a notion what to make of this, this the most unexpected of gifts… did his face pronounce it as clearly as a signpost, as his grandfather now endeavored he with all his brightly illuminations, and thusly revealed he with a saying such as this,” What you see my child is the Magic Mural of Time.” Did not these words strain Hyison’s reasoning, for it was not his ears, but his heart which could not discern them, and in this his grandfather’s most faithful retelling, his curious words varied not they in the least, not a jot nor tittle did they.  Now stricken with worry upon his voice, Hyison spoke he so very concernfully and said,”Oh, dearest grandfather! Why must you work yourself so very hard?” for it was true, his grandfather had a great love for his timely work, and it was equally so that Hyison did not believe in Magic Murals, or even fairytales of that sort. For as it seemed, sadly then most could only grasp what their eyes could perceive, never seeing with the eyes of their heart which appraises far richer things… considering unseen quantities so vast… comprehending the inscrutable.

Yes, it was a most novel trend which seemingly all were dabbling in, but I wasn’t one to be so easily swayed. For to me a world without magic would surely cease to be a world at all, and a lowly frown so very low shouldest be my constant reminder of its enchantment gone… for woe is a world without magic, and shall it not be cast under another sun, a much darker one and made wayfaring in its lonely meanderings, abandoned amongst the sullied luminaries, in the cheerless heavens made low. Thenceforth, Hyison spun he a weaver’s web of tangled questions, and thus slyly spoke he as if laying a trap, “How does it work?” he asked.

Then within my hearing his poorly grandfather bestly tried to explain he and said, “Oh, my, child, you requireth but only a sliver of faith and then even hindered eyes shouldest see… If only you believe! For its depths can reach further than you can ever imagine, even the stars if you dare dream!”  But then to my misfortune, as fate would only have shouldest the doorway unto my narrow vista was sealed and made fast, now safely secured under lock and key it was. Even still it stifled me not in the least, as now through the dimly corridor I ever so softly tiptoed as not to creak a board, and lastly with my back bowed, my peering eye would ringeth the keyhole’s gleaming, brass portal unto the mysterious happenings just within.  

Now again with the room within the realm of my sight, I beheld Hyison weighing heavily upon the engraved image, as if though he was trying to burn a hole through it with his very eyes, now almost as red as searing coals they were from all their straining -- task and toil. Oh, then it was as a hungry belly waiting for scalding potage to cool, as Hyison stared and stared for what surely seemed as the eternal everlasting with no relief…no halt in sight, as all the while from my seekful spot, I witnessed not even so much as a smidgeful spark of magic. For it was then that I grasped it was due to his falsely attempts that the crystal canvas would not stir, and, alas, his fruitless labor as a brooding boil began to thornly fester it did. Then was there to be heard the sound of stiffly bone, for it was Hyison’s throbbing neck all crowned with gnarly knots from all his dallying, and if I too had hindermost eyes I would have seen the samely thing if not only worse. But far greater was this pain of waiting… Oh, if only my faith could pierce this door which bars me from its wonders! I felt though as if I shouldest scream or cry out as all the while Hyison desperately continued to toil to see beyond its rippled surface. Even as his mind logically labored against such an unlikely event.

But then, suddenly, as a carriage which had lost it mount his clattering wheels of reasoning came to a rest upon the narrow pathway of his faith. For now quickened by a new hope, by an unyielding belief was he, as he pondered if he could not believe then he would believe for his poorly grandfather’s sake. For, indeed, he sensed how very much it meant to him, and being of a goodly heart he would surely try with all his spirit and resolve… and so I seen in his doing tasked he the very sinew which bound them together with its strong cord. And now to that thing which could only be, when, alas, all hope runs its tiring course and falls by the wayside, that is when one’s undaunted faith finishes the race and bears the wreath of the laureled prize in its forbearance.

Then suddenly as I was adrift within my inner musings did lovely mercy smile upon us in our unhappy lingering, and thusly lifted our souls in exaltation far above all of Hyison’s doubts and worries. Oh, now it was as my breath abided in my stomach, desirous of escape, but had not the strength to do so. For then with the most Joyous of raptures, within a twinkling of an eye the tapestry swirled in colorful motion, and the bluest sparks of sapphire began to wing they in whimsy…in this their winged flight! As all the while little Hyison’s mouth was ajar, lying amazed upon his collar, so broad it was he would have most surely captured a fly if there was one in the room he would.

Then in our astonishment shared its mystic light revealed a land afar, in a far reversely time when once The River of Ages was but only a merely trickle it was. Even before there was ever an Atlantis or an Olympus which have now all longly since returned to the dust from which they were born.  Aye, the mural’s journey had brought us far when still I seen the Great Maker’s fingerprint was yet fresh upon the world. Then aweingly across this pastly reflections flipside these saucerly eyes beheld a once beautiful mountain paradise, vastly far beyond a land of fire and a mythical land of ethereal ice. Then shouldest travel the sparsely furnished room echoes of voicely tones so rhythmically sublime that not even poetly minstrel could rival. Oh, now I shouldest say how lovely was their musical discourse which filled the dwarfly chamber so oddly that I soon found myself lost in its rhythm, as too Hyison pondered he’d never before heard such a songly chatter in all his days… be they young as they were. For now he as I -- we both knew he left unspoken, unspoken true that every new word his heart somehow strangely knew, and surely enough would he believe this to be some nodful dream of sorts.

But then I beheld with his fingers primed shouldest he pinch himself and then released did he a most insufferable cry. As now he dreamt not for wide awake he was, and, alas, was put to rest his neverly nays -- for now revealed before him without so much as a dreary shade of gray was a whole new wondrous world which no disbelief could ever fade. Now strangely though how this day had turned, for, indeed, Hyison possessed the namely title of this most excellent place. Oh, I know not the times, perhaps, once, perhaps, twice, I would dare even to say thrice he chance hearkened to in the rally of their conversations. For I do tell one could see by his wisely expression he was as sure, as sure as one could ever be, and now I needn’t say more, for, alas, upon his lips he blurted Pandore was its name, and I too would agree and shouldest say the very same.

And so it came to pass as Hyison was warmly enfolded by the mural’s enthralling light, which now wore he as a sheen upon his blushly cheeks was seen that Pandore’s summit was adorned by a most fine crystal palace. One which shone as a sea of mirrored glass, and from its ample edifice flowed an awe of wonders, a most magnificent waterfall which quite stunningly issued forth as if by some measureless, unseen hand delighting in its sport. Then to these ears which were no longer dulled, did so as a lovely trumpet wisdom played in the whole of this their kingdom’s breadthful span and marvel, as thus the flowery air about them was thronged with the sweetest of madrigal songs, as thickly as the most succulent honey of the comb. Now as a palate desires sugar their lyrical verses spoke of courage, ascending upward and onward, upon the wind even towards the spangled heaven’s most exalted high.

Yea, it was the glory of chorales, the loveliest of swaddling hymns as I witnessed this land was cradled by a most righteous sovereign, and the noble arms which upheld them was of Sirius The Just, and of the sage and fool he was the wiser, and a goodly king ruled by his better nature he was. Then I beheld the brilliance above their lyceums which brimmed with wrinkled brows and resounded with the cleverest of wit, was held high atop Pandore’s gleaming bastion, within the pinnacle of its radiant spire a Candle of Truth burned boldly and bright. And in lieu of this I found myself serenely marooned upon its tranquil shores, as its crests of rolling peace washed over me, benighted by its beauty, in its quiet waves as all my concerns fall like heavy stones and was lost in its wake.

But sadly happiness isn’t sometimes within the ordinance of things to be, nor decreed by imperfect man… forever staggering in his want. For then suddenly as a smashing clamor breaking within my ears, I beheld the image of a hurling inkwell shattering against a whitely wall, and then upon its flowings was seen that beneath the ashy pitch of a dark moon was the King’s diadem toppled from its regal throne. Now caught as a foot in a snare he was, lured by a beautiful enchantress who stole his heart, and sadder still was there to be a vacancy upon The Candle of Truths most prominent pedestal it would.

Was not now his heart pricked as it bled into his soul as the darkened sky froze above him, and, alas, all the stars rejoicing in their fiery waltz was no more, and was not his dreams turned aside by secret whispers of yesterday’s glory gone by… just the nothingness of the Inheritance of the dust which remains, for most sadly the past becameth a poison without remedy unto them all. Then as the long seconds melted into moments, and the moments died into the next, I beheld the siren departing with her plunder, and was not her beauty amorphous ever changing in its form, to gratify her dark indulgences, with her lips flavored with the bitter taste of guile within her heart’s evil decorum, as to set alight a thousand strife’s she upon the world. Hers was a portrait of mimicry, a creature of parody; there were many faces gazing back at her through her looking glass. “Oh, who will mourn for we mourners… who shall inter us in our tombs!? ” the King did cry he aloud! For without The Candle of Truth, all became wicked within each other’s sight, forsaken in their wretched gloom, and thus becameth they weavers of the most dreadful of lies, as now truths once plumly sweet fruit bitterly withered upon its once emerald Vines. It appeared altogether in the land were blemished by its cankerous touch, for even the princely son in which I seen by both honest word and goodly deed was to be proclaimed by all as Truthful Autumen, did too so sorely succumb to this most scourgeful blight of theirs, as now tainted he was as all the rest.

Nay, now it seemed not one was spared, for it found even the most hopelessly lost in its meticulous search. Thenceforth with their candor’s flame extinguished, nothing more than expiring ambers in the plunging murk which shadowed The Candle of Truth’s departure, and thus I pondered how a kingdom can long prevail if all are practitioners of deceitful trickery, and its practice made commonplace in the affairs of mortal man, and I feared a be-Wailing dirge is this Land, it will become a necropolis raised upon its lifeless ruins and made a reproach unto all kingdoms. And thusly their enmity steadily darkened with the end of all their truth, for it was the bitterest of cessations unto them, and such that it is when one’s own uprightness is traded for counterfeits; there can be no poorer exchange as now they were made lower than the most worthless of slanderers, spewing forth the foulest of calumnies.

Oh, now perish the thought, I was benumbed, my heart madeth as desolate, but still the Magic Mural searched both for and wide, and I began to doubt with a greatly trepidation of the unknown, of what this heart most fearfully presumed. Verily, my worry was as chains infrangible which constrained my soul, as if now their painful irons were pulling it asunder towards the four winds. Surely, it is the devil’s diversion… the cruelest of amusements when we are made his sport. But, however, the Mural would not be swayed, for it was ever seekful, ever faithful and wearied not in its fervor, its relentless, most blurring hunt.

Then as faith is the lover of hope and charity is their child, did the Magic Mural shown upon one which was unscathed, no, not so much as a superfluous hair upon his head, nay, not a strand was bruised. Now as it seemed good fortune and friendly fortuity most graciously smiled upon him. For, indeed, this ghastly curse had harmlessly passed him by, even as all those around him fall stricken in their very stride. Then unto my ears I heard Leapole was his giving name which he did answer to and said I he did.  

But then something shouldest traverse these traveling thoughts of wondery of mine which led me to no end. For what power or charm could have kept him thus far unsullied was such a bothersome quandary, indeed, it was. But then this too shouldest soon pass, for was it not the glory of his enchanted shield, imbued by Orin the wise, the great mystic of the north, upholding him with its irrepressible potency against such malevolence, and most strangely this vison resounded in my mind without speech, not a word was spoken but its meaning was clear… as diaphanous as sheer chiffon.

Then nextly did Hyison scream he a most dreadful scream, as if he wanted to flee the room for his very life, but shouldest he findeth himself muchly too afraid, not even dared he to twitch a finger much less to stand he upon his trembling legs and maketh he such haste. And, Oh, now how he quivered in his smallness before Leapole’s mighty steed, which was no longer just merely glass confined within the borders of a lifeless frame, but now made he out of flesh and blood and softly warm he was and very much alive to one’s touch. For I declare there was never a dream dreamt which could prepare one for such a lifely sight as he, but even still shouldest Hyison’s apprehension melteth away, as quickly as the thaw of winter, the springtime’s belated snow, it was as the sun dispelling all his frosty flurries to their proper season, for now he seen something superb about his eye, some greatly magnificence mingled with such sadness, a sadness as cold as the katabatic wind upon the longest of nights.

Yea, it was all so true and with the greatest of joys as Hyison then realized, that, in fact, he was noble and kind and a most frightful beast shouldest he no longer gage him to be, but something so very wonderfully different he was… almost otherworldly. Then again unto my awareness, I perceived without a sound, Faithful Hawthorne Forever True was the winged sabretooth called, and if all that which is virtuous is to be honored then there was, indeed, no fitter title that would ever do, for I seen every word was justly in its cause, not one was frivolously ill-used. Then was it in a rush as I heard the poply crack of fresh linen at a line, but most strangely I would findeth not a lone garment huge. For it was Leapole bestride Hawthorne’s whiskful wings which I’d mistaken as sheets being motherly flung. Most diligent wings were they which would soon be at the crystal palace, to deem what mannerous sort which commenced all to fume as a torrid mass… a most vociferous rabble, and thusly as a hot firebrand piercing the emerald orbs of my eyes, I beheld the helpless captives bound without ransom in such a loathsome state, in this their truth’s forfeiture, its most gifted light now exiled from Pandore’s once former renown… so very proud she used to be, but now made she lower than the earth trodden under foot. For was not her prominence now cast down to the valleys and dales which furrowed far beneath her, and as distantly as love abides from malice was she removed from her once sunlit crest in the vaulted azure expanse of the firmament’s lofty blue. Was not now their sanity completely despoiled as chaos occupied the grim gulf made which grew ever broader with the Candle of Truths lingering absence, as they languished in the blackened plentitude of their perdition’s iniquitous flames, and thus all of Pandore shouted and beseeched they a higher power and prayed, “Oh, come quickly sweet death… relieve us from our souls afflictions, for they are too grievous, too many for us to bear!”

And of this their forced impressment I could no longer endure, for it was an acre too cruel to stand idly upon, but then before I could reflect upon my reckoning did now with such an unrivaled haste, but, nonetheless, with the stateliest of poise shouldest he Leapole and Hawthorne light betwixt the palace’s twinly, orchid pillars, where once the sun’s radiance crossed, but now only dark shadows would passeth they most sinisterly. Thenceforth, from within its woodland of sylvan columns was heard the poorly Prince Autumen grieving, inconsolable amidst its weeping, marbled galleries and thus saying he, “Is truth a bitter wellspring where all our affections are to be drowned!? Who canst judge the heart for no one understands it!? Must I evermore slumber in the sore winter of my soul’s affliction, never again to be stirred by love’s tender warmth!?”

Now if only it was some prierly time the goodly Prince would have gladly welcomed his loyal friends with joyous arms opened so wide as to lose the whole world inside his swathing embrace, but then there… there was something else, for then shouldest  Autumen’s eye capture the glorious glint of Leapole’s shield, and henceforth was made straightway his path as his heart panted as doth the hind thirsts for cool water after the long chase, only desirous of he now to caress it sparkling glimmer, as I beheld he quickly lunged with the fluttering swiftness of a hummingbird’s wings as to gain but only a touch of Leapole’s prizely shield – This the tinkerer’s most finely handiwork, indeed, it was. Then as he grasped it with his right hand of oath could not there almost be heard the shattering of deceptions chains, and forthwith was loosed his tongue to serve truth once again, in all its shining light as basked he in the glory of its deliverance. Now as I thought, perhaps, Leapole could release the kingdom from under the yoke of this curse, but, alas, I was daft, for the shield could only save three (he told), it could not spare thee one more soul, no… not one. And sadly that’s what it most surely seemed, but still there was consolation, for no devil’s black witchery could crack the mirror of their minds, for happily they were all quickened by its steel.

Shortly, thereafter, the Prince proved to be as a wildly team of horses, and with boundless breath and unbridled tongue he spoke of crimes which were never meant to be exhumed from the downfall of birth… this its muted grave and thus exclaimed he excoriating from his souls inferno, declaring all that which arose and befell the kingdom and told,” Her ruby lips, her lips of rouge was stained with the brightly crimson of innocence. Was she a creature of contradictions, her loveliness but a ploy. She cameth as a purveyor of light, but was she a fiend of darkness in disguise, and didst from her foulness reek within the gloomy sepulcher of her bowels, the sweetness of moldering death and the lamentations of the tormented.”

Then spat he and spoke her name aloud and said he as he retched,” It was Agrava Recluse, the queen of the Creepy-Crawlers -- The spidery Spinnerets! Her vainly beauty was but merely a parlor trick, wisps of smoke and the cunning of sleight which cloaked her evil subterfuge within its most charming camouflage, and so in its misdoing it veiled the vileness of her corrupted flesh. Was it the deadliest game of masquerades, for yet another cruel face lurked behind her lovely mask.

---

Yea, I as the inner court and all the assembly studied that which was adorned about her silken neck, that very thing which cursed my eyes upon its first glance. It was the glory of glories, an amulet without flaw or blemish and within its opal swirls sparkled a thumbly sized pearl of greatly prize (the sweetest cherish) and in a black fashioned most perfect was its triumph.” And at this his conclusions end he revealed with his angry limbs flailing,” It was upon the witching hour, its darkly toll when the watchman chimed her unearthly, conjured flight and was it then by a master stroke a most merciful twig would claim her clasp. Oh, blessed pity the counting of its golden links as they flew apart by The Candle of Truth’s shimmering light. How it played upon them as so many flaxen stars in the midnight’s pitch. And so it was when the last joining bond of its chainly charm came to rest amidst the moistened staves would the flame reveal her true eight legged form, and how its many sinuous members wickedly merged with the likeness that of man’s misshaping portrait… an amalgamation of horror! “…was to be his final conclusion in which I heard. 

Now under a yonder blue as it softened beneath the twilight’s shade, it became most apparent unto me that truth’s remaining chance rested solely upon these three, bound by their friendship to whatever appointed destiny awaited them, as now confirmed he Leapole and said, “Doth we often task ourselves over that which is not even perceptible, and to that which is most evident we regardeth not in the least, so why even trouble vexing ourselves with such trifles, for it will only amuse the dark spirits hovering just above within the hearing of our plaintive cries. Therefore we shall shed no tears… not for them… nay, not ever! Thou must becometh cold as steel, for we will not be granted mercy and we can ill afford to render it, for how penniless, how meager our fortunes. Our poverty was concealed by an opulence which has no further future if we forsake such a time as this, and now act we must. Canst not but one prevail against many when sustained by righteous favor. Look… we are three and triune is our virtuous cord…we shan’t in any way wise be madeth twain with leisurely ease, nor betray ourselves with fear… So be it fate!” 

But even still it was not a fortnight past when they together beheld amongst the wondering jewels of the rhapsody of the heaven’s floating space above, within the hurtful stinger of Scorpio’s gathering didst Mars eclipse Jupiter, and for a briefly spell its moons gamboled about the scarlet sphere’s circuit, which was considered to be by all an omen most fretful. Indeed, especially if it foreshadowed a dark moon which was the dread sign of the orphan, the bringer of all desolations uponeth the earth. Then nextly Leapole inquired he and asked,” Well, which way doth the brook runneth my friend?” And thus the fair Prince turned his daring expression towards that accursed corner, that ruthless dominion, Agrava’s bane habitation of torments all untold were they and said he,” Tomorrow is the doorway and today is its threshold, therefore, we must crosseth over and stay the course, for there is no better way unto us.” Then nextly that thing which allured my unwavering eye, what appeared as a palette of a painter caught in a kaleidoscope of time. Then by a gradual awakening shaking off the last vestiges of its long, slumberous sleep, the Mural’s magic showed that Agrava dwelt afar across a dreadful sea, the Sea of Dread in a most terrible place I’d seen, and yet though I felt not quite distantly enough, on account, it was a grievous offence unto all that which was prudent, and where charity was made a byword and never again to draweth nigh unto fond remembrances. 

Then nextly bearing not in mind what the morrow my bringeth forth they mounted upon Hawthorne’s dauntless wings so very strong they were, as now rode they upon as the sound of lovely thunder rolling through the pikes and hills above, as all now with stout hearts roseth they against the blooded horizon’s mosaic, where the velvet blazes of amethyst blushed against the darkening sky, and before long shouldest the wrathful Sea of Dread, in all its acrid vinegary madest thou bitter (you beast of wind and wave), did so dim their visage light as a veiling mist, a mist of woe which choked their very breath, as heavy and oppressive, as burdensome as a tartan’s funeral shroud. But, nevertheless, with hearts madeth steadfast they sallied onward resolute in their aim, their reed shouldest not bend before this the wind’s squabbling protest. Now whirling and twirling forever more it seemed, and shouldest it not smite them as a plunging mountain in all its dreadful might, as the sea savagely tore at them with its frigid claws; wailing as a wounded animal towards an unseen moon, in the teary sky’s black tweed, and yet the intrepid companions persevered in their pursuit of courage, its strength and honor only garnered by an unfaltering faith, in all its wondrous glory. 

Now then as they pierced even further into the sea’s flooded verge, it began to cast so many scathing sickles of ice as to divide one’s flesh from mortal bone, but even still they would not be so easily swayed, nor staggered they not, as Hawthorne spryly dashed amidst the imperiling clouds, unabashed was he in his frolicking play, and shouldest he, I woefully beheld vex the sea with this his most taunting sport. Now then in truth’s most regretful intrigue not wanting to be dollied with, henceforth, the querulous deep belowest them in its angry gala didst tingeth the air with a dead man’s paler, the eeriest pallid blue…its most fearful lines as the lightning skirmished all about them, clashing against the embattled sky in all of its spoiling ambiance…its darkened tone. 

And thus in my agony I soon feared that they would be dealt a strike most unforgiving by one of its glossily fingers which encompassed them by its trace. But then most gladly I shouldest findeth my corncern was worth not the worry, for as Hawthorne weavingly wove through the lightning embroidered sky, and not so much as a brightly tread would touch them with its strike. For, indeed, it seemed Hawthorne had a strangely sense, for he could see the lightning’s thinly ribbonets before their finale culminations, their glowing streams were most evident unto him, as he wheeled about them with the greatest of ease. Then was seen upon the mural’s tapestry with surging swells so very high, the seething sea churned ever so spitefully under the marauding sky, and soon shouldest I be fraught with the grimmest of apprehensions which seized upon me… was it the cynic’s heart declaring only its ugliness in that great uncertainty of the unknown with all its dire misgivings; was it that most dread scavenger, that vulture which swoops down and feasts upon our souls and picks our bones clean, that very thing which consumes all our hopes and dreams and where love’s flames are smothered and waxed they sore in its wounding chill, and doth the heart becomes a dark keep deprived of its joyous warmth, its hearth extinguished by all its qualms… quenched in its wretched gloom. For thus now longly forsaken upon these isle of ears was the wailing wind endlessly singing its mournful song, until, alas, I could shrug no longer this sadness so quivering of mine. But, nevertheless, after a shortly pace and a measure of length shouldest again my spirit giveth rise, for as I beheld through the ceaseless swirls so whirly of cyclones ever turning did still the loyal companions three bravely remained before this storm so grave. But then suddenly shouldest my simple pleasantries be dashed most utterly, without so much as a lingering vestige to prove they once were. 

For as now to the floor so very hard was I thrown and a flagon did shatter as it broketh my fall, and most thankful was I that my claimer dreweth not a wondering eye, for so shakenly rumbled the oddly room as it quailed before this the sea’s rising voice which rolled over its angry waves. As it now derided them so, as it scorned them unto mockery in its thundering indignation, as it pronounced uponeth them all the pining, pangs of death which would soon follow, and how they shouldest now die locked forever imprisoned in their fledgling youth, and thus I felt my bones being rendered as unto powder under its ponderous weight. It was a burden much too heavy to shoulder, as then it formed even more ghastly indictments and most desirous was I to slap myself deaf rather than to heed any more of its foul curses, but I could not bringeth myself to perform such a wicked task, and so the sea blasphemed onward with its charges and declared it volubly and said, “None before has infringed this far and none shall do this night which has been undone before!” 

Then did the sea open its eager mouth as to devour them, and thus I beheld its bottom all draped with splintered ships would most certainly lend credence to this. For as now the sea had parted its darkly mirk so very deep, and I saw all who’ve tryingly crossed either rest quietly now or foundeth some other way, if there was another way at all I shouldest dare say. But then nextly most frightfully didst thou, Oh, terror, you snaked your icy fingers aroundest my heart’s innermost drama, for the fear of souls which hang in the scales… now oblivious to their oblivion, which left all my perceptions reeling in its wake, as now I beheld the clouds formed they a most vengeful hand as to smote them such as a fly so bothersome from the air, as thus the billowing sea gnashed its alizarin teeth in all its angry bluster and declared it nefarious purpose and told,” Now let it be known that none shall oppose me for these waters bear my name!” I am the dread maelstrom, the tumult of wind and wave, I am the eye which sees in the hurricane! It is I who holds the whirlwind in my hand and commands the lightening to fall! Who are you to stand before me in my judgment!? For I am its dread magistrate… the dreadnought which forever lurks the sea! It is I who overcast the downtrodden not thee!” 

Now, Alas, I hadn’t the words they had lost their meager maestro… all was as meaningless vanity in their unfashionable vogue, and was but the earing of mere tinkering brass marshalling to the dullest of notes, and now was such my greatly distress as the avenging cloud’s monstrous limb as some great, fluming cataract spirally plunged them ever so downwardly into the sea’s most awaitful arms. Then shouldest that dark lord Dread rageth in its rancorous hubris as it fulminated and voiced its finale argument and said, “My tally shan’t be waved, many though have foolishly strived, but now they all swell the ranks of my briny underworld and are mine alone to keep!”  Tis, tis, but such as life’s requiem, you amorous dirge, the ephemeral privileged leave no vestige when their bodies slumber in death, but shall I makest thou a monument unto them, an island heaped of their bones when their number is made perfect in their completion.” As all the while the three descended they into Dread’s monstrous, gaping breach, to its nethermost reaches, belowest its icy stirrings now so very black they were. 

Then cameth I heard a great hush falling over the sea, and, alas, the turbulent waters were made placid in their quietness, in the coldness of the still, somber night which marked their passing, and such was this sadness of mine… I could findeth no solace. For they were as snowflakes descending gently through the welkin’s starry expanse, each so much alike and yet so very different, so divinely unique that there shall never again be another such as they. When the daystar, the sun kisses this corporal mist which is called life, it vanishes away into the ether and is no more. It’s as a loving symmetry of a thousand… nay, ten thousand times ten thousand miracles all dancing to some higher symphony, its masterful arrangement defies all reasoning…and such was my boundless despair, it was as the death of greatness of some long ago renowned never to be laid eyes upon again. 

Then nextly I beheld Hyison most tearfully shielded his sullen eyes, now stricken by their grief, for, indeed, a fondly place had grown in his heart for them, and the sight as samely as I -- he couldn’t bear of it. But then there was to be something which perked my doleful ears, as I… as I was dispirited but only the merest of instances before, held disconsolate in my melancholy. For then shouldest I be consoled, for his grandfather most happily reminded and said he, “Rememberest thou what the vicar hath said, “Trust is the greater share of our devotion, for it reveals in whom your faith lies, and when we fear the terror which wings by night, or encroaches in the broad of day and pickets us all around, must we ask the Lord to remindeth us of all the countless perils in which he hath delivered us from… be they manifold hidden, or the scant few revealed unto us. For when time yields to eternity, we shall clearly see all the many dangers in which he safely carried us through… from within the shelter of his mighty hands he preserved us. Therefore, you mustn’t lose faith in courage my, child, for the end you shall see this is not, but only the beginnings of a far greater gallantry.” 

Then strangely upon the mural the sea began to foamly bubble as some spirited, witchly brew which had gone terribly awry it would, and thusly as a goodly wish answered upon high, as now to the surface as quicksilver jostled in a flask, shouldest the three breacheth with such a thunderous blast, as now roseth they upon a great, surging thrombus, and shouldest they findeth their refuge perched highly atop of a mighty whale, and brave Leviathan was his name I do tell. Then as they filled their lungs for the first did it so enthrall their souls to be alive, and thusly now as their hurt ever so slowly but surely softened they seen through the encircled night’s darkened veil, the light of their homes which they left far behind, now but a distant star low in the western horizon, and shouldest how Leapole and Autumen wonder if they would ever return to that lofty land of their nativity, to see Pandore’s wondrous heights once again… now so very far away it was. 

And nextly was I intrigued by a most curious occurrence, for now was I shown by the clarifying light of one’s own epiphany… its most brightly illuminations, as now I understood happiness is never a place you can findeth somewhere. For I could clearly see it was buried within the richly loam of their hearts as the purest of treasures, and thus what lies buried in the heart is resurrected in its deeds. For how great a love in its perfect absolution, even when we preferred it not it desired us anyway, and such was their brotherly friendship under the cold sky, stark in its desolation, and, of course, when minds such as these touch doth not it sustains us with its imparted warmth. But now as it be as I meandered through the labyrinth of all my fears and hopes with no conclusions, hopelessly lost was I in its secret maze, and thus was I posed with this riddle: Has there ever been such a thing as a heart without any room, its cup always overflowing, forever in its abundance never needing to be refilled without the specter of any want. Love canst not remonstrate nor turns a jealous hand in its spitefulness, for it regards not itself, it gives itself away and thus finds its better fortune, but doth a callous heart always wonders why in its dearth famine, and sadly if this was all but a mere dream… what then when I wake? But even still I prayed on the morrow would prove to be a better day; I determined to convince myself firmly with this thought. And so in my doing, I tried to clad my aspirations with all my hope’s armor, wishing no further menace would present itself nor rear its ugly head. That there would not again be such a place for them where dark enmity abounds, and thusly shouldest I wonder if my mail would be strong enough, as now slumbered they under the heaven’s starry coverlet with all their vigor as poured out uponeth an arid waste, for, alas, it had departed them… now spent they were in their clash against the sea’s most vengeful fury. 

And thus it came to pass in the merest of moments, in the flutter of an eye, the hours ebbed to this forthcoming present where the past and future doth meet, and as quickly as I noticed it fleeted from the mural as now woke they to an early dawn’s Spanish orange, just to the leeward of an island of fire, within its shoals aflame, and soon shouldest they findeth their albatross wasn’t in the sky, but beneath them they did. For as now as goodly as any Samaritan did Leviathan shepherd them across the water’s expanse, to Queen Agrava’s dominion, as all the while they tossed in their restless slumber. Indeed, was Leviathan to be their polestar… the legend of the deep, for his was the very heart which warmed the sea. Then as shook he Autumen and dispelled the night from his cloak and thus said he, ”Enough of lolling away in our death beds, we must go now where devils dare not intrudeth they for fear of the terrors which await them!” And Leapole replied,” By the Father of all lights may fate favor the reckless and be the friend of us fools!” And off they went without even so much as pondering it twice it would seem, but in truth, I had my suspicions, for, in fact, they did ponder over their worries most harshly. And now their fear was as a caged animal gnawing at its bars, Oh, now so desperately trying to loose itself so it could stalk again… to maul one’s spirit unto pieces, to leave no scraps for its leavings in its most ravenous gluttony. 

And so I seen was there to be wisdom in their silence, as now they did what only friends could do, to plaster a warm smile over their icy gloom as so to conceal their fear from each other’s sight. Nay, they would not wear gray, sullen faces as the condemned often do… when they walk the thirteen steps to the hangmen’s noose.  And, alas, shortly, that which followed was not their worries to be soon confirmed, as now I beheld as they soared through smoke and cloud shouldest then something most frightfully screameth across the blackened sky. For it was Agrava’s dragon now pursuing them with scorching breath of fire. Like some greatly bird of prey it was with eyes of piercing black, the fiery beast was determined to catch them or burn them to a crisp… as to char them to lifeless lumps of smoldering ash. Then yelled he Leapole,”Hawthorne my friend fly with all your might!” 

And thus Hawthorne did what sought he most zigzagging across the sky in all his flurry.  But nextly that which shouldest strike a chord in my heart was a most strangely feeling, for I do tell this fiery foe was no, nay not to be Hawthorne’s first. For then the mural showed longly before Pandore was his home, even before Leapole found him and tended to his wounds, that there was once a mythical kingdom far to the north from whence the ice flowed. But I shouldest say none ever seen it, nor believed it, and sadly now none shall ever know, for longly swept away and no more it was, never to be seen again, never to be heard. Then I beheld their Arc of Many with its ivory bow, its sweeping curvature spanning the sky in its most eminent passage, and with parades of red banners and streamers which festooned its broadly avenues and danced they upon the northern lights, and the host thereof were winged sabretooths and woolly mammoths and those who did mount them with courage. And to the glory which followed I beheld in the midst of their proudly processions, now wreathed about his mighty chest was Hawthorne proceeding so regally with a golden coat of arms, and he who was saddled upon him was a noble king named Rowan no less. 

Thereafter, I shouldest see in the selfsame hand as Leapole held he also the glorious shield. For I do tell solely fashioned it was for him by Orin the Wise, the oracle of all wisdom of this their ethereal kingdom once called they Nore, and thusly with enchantment so tempered he it in Rowan’s icy forge which did burn so very hot that it did freeze with cold. And then shouldest the mural showeth their betrayal by Kronos, which commenced he the Ogre Wars wrought by Orso the Vanquisher, which thus opposed he Rowan’s icy Nore, and goodly Girth, their friendly compatriot from their southernmost step… its misty woodlands which roseth they as upon the fruited incense of smoke. He with his clan of giants I seen were cloaked with much honor, and valor shown as polished steel held gleaming in their eyes, and thus I learned these goliaths were brought forth from the tribes of men…very much men of reason as while as men of brawn. Were they not at least twice the size of the mighty men of Nore, which by themselves were quite large, indeed, with broadly shoulders the length of an ax handle, and stood they as tall as a Shire with its rider standing high in his stirrups, but even still was they as children toddling within the shadow of giants. 

And so it was that Orso with Kronos and his Valkyries from High Andore, its lavender and gypsum fields with its winged riders, the mighty thunderbirds, which rode they upon as lightening adorned with raven wings, and also enlisted… Nay, provoked he Kronos the benefit of King Lutjens’ red dragons, and with all his lords from Europa, to sendeth they to were the battle was most fierce… at its very hottest. But even still mighty Nore commanded she the field, for her power was, indeed, exceeding, and shouldest he Kronos in his peril called uponeth the great fallen one, Apollocks The Destroyer, the slayer of worlds, that most haughty one which bore many pompous names upon his evil crown of pride. For was he the dread, dark master of Sheba, the spirit of destruction, that great demon of war. 

This the aerial prince of the cherubs of the ceaseless wind was he, and thus Kronos the betrayer was betrayed when he opened their death’s dark portal in the sky, which was, indeed, their unhallowed prison, and thusly their legions began to poureth they through, unto this world made for lowly man as to subdue it; to descend they into the realm of the Mariners as to breaketh its seven pillars, the very foundations of the earth, as to deluge it for a second, and if could not he drown the world then he would most surely consume it by flames he reasoned in his accursed heart. Now the abrogation of man’s bloodline was his supreme orthodoxy, for such was his aversion towards them, that he could not even bear to look upon them, for even their mere image besmirched his arrogant eyes... they were all quite detestable in his sight; even their very scent was a stench unto him. 

For how could such foul creatures, in his wonderment could possibly be the object of the Almighty’s merciful grace was, indeed, a mystery which he could not unravel. For as I seen the light in his heart was darkness, and, therefore, darkness canst not see the light, or the glory of its truth revealed… he shan’t ever know its secrets, or the diminution of one’s debts in the triumph of a soul’s jubilee. And then just as everything which resides under the sun, under the velveteen heaven’s most lustrous sphere, it too came to pass when I soon beheld all that which remained of Nore, and this her withered, once great foes madest they a pact and twinned themselves together, and thus with their keenly pontifications they waxed most elegantly with their impassioned pleas unto King Rowan, as now exclaimed they one and all and said they, “We must stand united even it be upon our graves, for there will be no world tomorrow if we prevail not this day!” No more tomorrows… such frightful words as I pondered over the cavalcade of both day and night marching through the chef-d’oeuvra of the seasons, their masterpiece shouldest now cometh to an end, and so with this in mind the kingdom of Nore joined their league to buttress their lines against this new encroaching frontier which ever strengthened before them, as now prayed they the cherubs which preceded this foray, to herald their dark sovereign, to usher him through the nexus’ unholy breech. Oh, it was as the end of days as their warring fractured the earth’s corbel stone, as thus cried out its broken mantle spewing forth with its many floweret like plumes, budding ever upwards as the very mountains began to smoke they and the heaven’s wept with blood as the burning fire which forever burns beneath us. 

But, nevertheless, Kronos was, indeed, a sly one, and in his treachery he withdrew with his remnants, as Orin and all of Nore pushed they hard against the cherub juggernauts, and slew they many, the mighty men of Nore with their weapons forged by light. Then that beast which was their lord arose he from his throne, to crosseth over shinning as the morning star, bright and powerful with vengeful eyes ablaze, but could not he pass for Orin had forbade him by placing a seal upon the portal, and now with his hindermost opposing him  --  Kronos hurled he the sparkling rhombus of a most perfect diamond which was kissed by the everlasting, eternal spirit of winter, which thus struck a grievous bruise upon Orin’s right hand of power with its glacial tip, and forthwith frozen reels which converged they into vastly rivers of ice began to toil their worst as serpentine twisting and winding such as living serpents striking out and uncoiling themselves towards the four winds in their most merciless track. And even yet it already had begun to ensnare all of Nore, and shouldest he Hawthorne in his daring haste… his trial of nerves madest he such a perilous flight, as to abscondeth I seen as all of Nore from their unlawful seizure… and, indeed, a worthiest thing of praise it was in this most frightful of spectacles, as now to save his cherished king, and, when, alas, he had almost freed himself from its many tangles shouldest a frozen viper sink its fangs deeply into Rowan’s warmly flesh, and so in its doing plucked him from his very wings and thusly shackled him within its many icy folds. 

As now all its tendrils converged they forming yea a vastly pillar of white, and so this bleak obelisk becameth the tomb of once great, mystic Nore… such a terrible sight it was… as the death of worlds, and now only Hawthorne and a paltry, few Sabre Riders and those of his kind had survived Kronos’ onslaught, his betrayal, but such was this his sole design to hold dominion over the North without rival of challenge, to stay his cruel hand, to only have his council heard at the great circle of the congregation of the mountain, and such is the desire of all ill-gotten power bought with the price of guiltless blood. But even still their death struggle had not yet been squared, for now Hawthorne and all that which remained of Nore slammed they hard into Kronos’ forceful host which ringed about the tower of ice from which they had just escaped, as to fight their way out of his strongbox of butchery in the abattoir sky, as to find some new safe haven now, perhaps, somewhere beyond the horizon’s edge. But most sadly I must tell life wasn’t to be found in their providence, no provision was made, for all except Hawthorne that day had reached their finale valley, and was not he then swiftly pursued by Lutjens’ Knights of The Red Shield, by Poks his captain and Gog his fiercest dragon… these his most valiant ones hunted him over the Great Northern Rift, and then far across the Sea of Storms, and, alas, by the dusk of night he eluded them, and did Hawthorne persevered he in his flight, as flew he… flew he ever onward into the long night, and thus the night turned to day and again to night, and upon the eve of the second day when finally he reached Pandores wondrous shores, its safe harbor, and shouldest Leapole discover him all the same, and thusly I beheld how his wounds spoke to him of the many great perils in which he endured, in the terrible days prior. 

Then nextly that which reached across this timely crevasse of vastly time was likened unto a titan’s firmly grasp, and thusly the mural returned us to the danger most presently at hand. Then was beheld upon my arrivals unpleasant approach that the sky now raged with fiery storms, as too the sea’s spongy froth had become a stewing caldron of sorts. Now as it seemed more as a whimsical ballet being performed through the frightful sky ablaze rather than a mortal game of fox and fowls being played…such deadly sport it was. But even still Hyison shouldest not cringeth he as the flames so viciously leaped from the mural’s frame, as all the while the dragon’s noxious fumes assailed their little chamber with its vile stench, and in truth it was a most sulfurous offence unto my nostrils as its pungency vented as a steeping spout through my vantage point, and thusly amazed was I for he did not flincheth in the least. Then through the searing heat of cinders aloft upon the febrile wind shouldest its acrid smoke sting my narrowly, squinted eyes as the fevered tears streamed down my hot cheeks, as now I beheld with these knuckles of mine pressed whitely clinched shouldest the dragon cleave to its quarry prey. It was as if it had the gift of some profane prophesy for it was privy to their every maneuver, it could foretelleth Hawthorne’s each feint and every ruse, for it would not in anyways be persuaded nor thwarted in its gruesome purpose as it continually prodded them with each and every grilling, viscid blast. It was as if it was bewitched by its own delirium in its ecstasy of death, lost in its own bloodlust and the thrill of the hunt. 

Then shouldest I sober to this stark reality so very grim, for even one as Hawthorne as mighty as he hadn’t a hope in a gallows to best this beast’s most frightful speed, indeed, it was. For so nimble was he that it was as if nothing made under heaven’s creation could escape its reach… it could scathe all with but only a touch it seemed. And so it came to pass as it hotly disgorged its burning breath uponeth them…blast after heaving blast as the dragon endlessly pommeled them with its fiery wrath, and thus a claimer most infernal I do tell it was as the flames wrapped around them with the resounding rang of a multitude of clarion trumpets at their highest pitch. Now then worthier than Autumen’s skilled arrows the goodly shield was proven to be more than a match for this deadliest of tasks, for thusly I beheld upon them not a hair was to be singed, their cloaks shouldest not even carry a swathe of smoke upon them. 

But even still Leapole’s strength wasn’t to be boundless under the flames burdensome yoke, for now strewn so very heavily it was that his toiled arm drew torpid and began to ache with weary, as thus the once weightless shield began to feel more as a talent of lead pulling upon his weakened limb with all its sway. It becamest as a most cumbersome deadweight, as wieldy as a hot anvil instead of its afore spry, lightness once so effortless held in his fair hand. And then, alas, to that very thing which I, indeed, feared most, shouldest the dragon dreweth in now his deepest breath by far, as if, though, trying to lure all the air around them within the pyretic, inferno of his burning lungs, and thusly I seen once it was satisfied, that it could scarcely dreweth in anymore, did he so issue forth such an outpouring, as a torrent of blackish fire devoid of all brightness…were they now all to be awash in its most fervent heat without light, in its conflagration of darkness, and so I beheld in his doing dislodged he the shield from Leapole’s enfeebled hand, and thenceforth I helplessly tracked the glint of its polished metal as it thusly crashed far below upon The Shore of Lost Causes and Hopeless Quests. Now I shouldest say it truly seemed that their fate was determined, for again the dragon bellowed with a mighty breath and Hawthorne too shouldest see its most scalding intent and swiftly dove he with the earth belowest them into the piling amalgam of fiery cloud and smoke just hovering above the sea’s salty spray…now, restlessly tossing as it shouldest never again feel the sun’s loving rays. Then that which could only be said is now with a most frightful fury the fiery beast pursued them through the marred skies, but even still through the howling deafness I heard Hawthorne roaring most defiantly, which did only further kindle his raging adversary to flames, as again would their elliptics once more converge under the blazing heavens, and shouldest it now again be upon their heels just a muzzle length behind with its angry jaws to bear…with so many ravenous teeth much desirous in their greed for their burnt flesh to partake they of. Then shouldest the very scene play samely as before, but now only more so, for did its scaly chest giveth rise with such a mighty breath that pondered I the beast would surely burst in its flight. 

As now Leapole and Autumen steadfastly held to Hawthorne’s fur which glistened white, and thus my heart quailed as they closed their eyes now bracing they were for the worst. But then to my relief was the image abruptly halted for Hyison jumped up and yelled he and said with his teary eyes all a-mist, “ Oh grandfather, why is this so!? Please, tell me it isn’t true?” 

Then replied he his grandfather and told, “You mustn’t abandon your hope my child no matter the costly burden, for when things seem at their worst they’re really not, but if it is then face it with courage in your heart and soon thou shall see that not all is lost.” 

Now that which I must gladly tell he heeded once again his grandfather’s wisely words and thusly believed he did. And then nextly that which was conveyed from betwixt the mural’s roundly curves and wiggly lines, shouldest I heareth the dragon’s death knell ringing aloud as from some hidden, mysterious belfry from where I knowest not nor why, but I shouldest say it was loveliest bell chime I did ever hear, for as then I beheld violently erupting as a mountain from the smoldering sea was an immensely tail which had eclipsed Hawthorne’s fiery foe, indeed. And thus in its thrashing it unleashed such a wave so compellingly great, and, alas, the brutal beast unfurled his broadly wings as burnt canvas towards the wind for the last, as now its dark form sank in defeat beneath the crush of its drowning surge… vanquished by the deep. 

Now I must tell so happy they were for Leviathan was worth his enormous weight of the very finest gold and no truer friend could he ever be to them, for again he saved these one’s most grateful from what was most surely going to be a fiery end it was. But even still I had a strangely sense that it was somehow as if by some unheard contrivance made between he and Hawthorne, they for the dragon’s demise… was it to be a masterpiece of perfection which dealt its final death stroke.(and such was my curious thoughts) as then nextly I seen within the ebb of moments shouldest rescue he Leapole his tarnished shield from the sands ashy grit, and thusly they were ready to greet what mysteries loomed beyond these shores jagged cliffs, as so many angry daggers they were pointing towards heaven in their greatly displeasure against it. Now once again upon Hawthorne’s strong wings they flew above this flaming scape to its uppermost shelf, many leagues far inland where soon beheld they a stoic fortress rising as a dark premonition squarely in the midst of a ashen… sickly garden of stone. 

Then as I gaged thereabouts this starkly monolith was there a latticework, a weave of webs surrounded by a moat of fire, spanned by a singular promenade hewn from granite and bronzed by all the years of rising smoke and leaping flame... tinged by the brimstone which it traversed. And was not this slender defile to be their only means unto its inner horrors which most surely lingered there through a gateway I beheld fashioned of skulls and bones made from all the poor souls who’ve tried and failed before. And, alas, did he Hawthorne touched down upon its narrow breadth and thusly the three began to wearily cross upon its slickened surface all veneered by slime, and as they were carefully treading shouldest then something shadowly unseen purposely stumble Leapole thus causing his beleaguered shield to wander far from his hand. 

Now as Leapole regained the firmness of his stricken limbs, beheld he with surprise that his friends were cavorting with the gloom of silhouettes of specters unseen, as sauntered they about their dance the ghostly figures in their obscurity, now caroling around him ever faster weaving their spell, until, alas, did he cast upon them all his reverence and regarded no other, for he too was soon mesmerized by their melodious chant and gestures as they sang…“I’ve seen kingdoms birthed and I’ve seen them smothered in their crib, for in thine eyes none doth ever really grow old nor wise… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve seen great men rise and I’ve seen them fall… I’m dancing with shadows of day gone by… I’ve seen pristine fields which are cities now, and I’ve seen them burned to the ground and once again returned to the fertile fields from whence they were overthrown… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve seen tyrants ascend to the throne and I’ve seen hero’s cast into their long forgotten graves, lost in the catacombs within the earth far beneath -- buried by the centuries… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve played in great halls which are no more, returned to the dust from which they arose… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve seen the tide of men both rise and fall with famine and plague… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve seen rivers which no longer flow and oceans which have dried and filled once more… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… I’ve  seen valleys lifted high and mountains made low; I’ve seen the hills rolled out and made smooth as plains…I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by…I’ve seen forests which are no longer and are without the remembrance of trees, and yet again their deserts are soon reclaimed… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… The epochs have all become but mere moments in their passage as doth the ages fall as raindrops in the tempest of time… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… There is light in our darkness but it gives no warmth, and ours is as a cup without drink to quench one’s thirst… I’m dancing with shadows of days gone by… All these things I’ve seen and countless more, I beseech thee now come join us forevermore!?”

And thus was such their lightness of foot and slyness of hand as they wickedly danced with delight they did, in this their most faultless excellence. I must say so very pleased they were as they so quite madly hurled themselves one by one off into the fiery moat down below, oh, so now hoping their powerless victims would soon follow they were. Then mindlessly I frightfully seen they danced ever so nearer to the edge, until, alas, they were more than perilously close, as walking a tight rope they were. But then most gladly as fate would only have did happen to slip he Leapole upon the slime and stonely fell he did upon his palms. Now most happily he landed not upon the bridge but upon his goodly shield of all things and once his stature had regained its form, I beheld his faithful hand now clutched it strong. Then as fired from a catapult was there again to be added a sharp keenness to the clarity as their mindful prowess returned, and thus they wondered if they had more wit than wisdom as now beheld they the last shadowy Martinet taking he a ghostly bow, as he saluted them with a flick of a wrist and a motion of his hand and thus launched himself off into the blazing abyss which had so impatiently presumed in all its hunger and privations below, to yet again gorge upon fresh sufferers in its want… as to render them unto oil and burn them as candlewicks dipped in tallow, to consume them as the fat of the lambs as if it were. Now in lieu of this occurrence they looked in their befuddlement one to the other and said he Leapole as completing Autumen’s very thought, “What manner of an onerous heart which couldst practice such witchcraft?” 

And before another word was spoken shouldest the gate open its hideous mouth now with its shadow before them and thus beckoned them to darken its threshold it did. And so it was the three wearily crossed over, marching they into a darkness madeth primal in its appearance, now as it seemed tempting the temptress with their chins held forward in their defiance, but nonetheless, did Autumen cautioned he with a sigh and said, “Verily, this is a fools fight.” And shouldest Leapole answer he, “Yea, we’re butting our heads hard against the post my friend; we shall soon see which gives first.” 

And thusly they proceeded through the eye of the needle of this Agrava’s afflictions, in all its bitter certainty of what surely was going to follow, that which was lying in wait for them as surely as an assassin’s blade ready to strike its final blow. Now then as they ventured beyond its entry, into the midst of its soaring foyer, shouldest the gate behind nearly slam off of its old rusty pivots with the coarse sound of heavy bolts being drawn they into stone. And now all about them, they sensed a great brawling character which fouled the very air and stifled their tongues which cleaved in their mouths. But, nevertheless, they continued forth in their sightless track, into the blackened pitch, to what lay ahead now they knew not, but they did hope to face it with courage in their hearts. But then abruptly from within the depths of the shadow’s curdling bowels was eerily heard a scornful sneer, and thus these preceding words resounded they most coldly, “Flesh and bone is not stone beauty thou thin veil, for the ravages of time shall soon prevail and my gate shall tell the tale.” It was Agrave Recluse herself which spoke to them as she continued forth bloviating in her most sinful amusement, now savoring every word as she avowed, “I’ll rob thee of your breath, your gift of life shall I hang about your necks as a curse! As I abideth, I’ll hack your hearts from your ribs and let the worms delight in your flesh!" 

Then Autumen countered her with his demands and said he, “We’ve come for The Candle of Truth, hand it over now and we shall deal mercifully and spare you.” Now upon Autumen’s commanding silence did not the castle commenced it to heave with the most maniacal laughter, flavored with the vilest of sarcasms which chilled my very blood and made it flow as icy red, and thus Agrava with a wildly, ravenous, almost joyous gleam about her eye said she, “Spare me your prattling banter, for surely you jest, all of your bones will adorn my gate before this hour’s finale stroke!”  

Then she continued to rant and said,” Fools and fears shall most certainly bring me to tears, for like filthy mongrels and fragrant incense they never quite mix, and thusly a fools fate shall be yours this day. Oh, a dreadful pity though, I would’ve wished to have added your winged beast to my menagerie, him being the last of his breed and all, but now you must see that we must all make our little sacrifices wouldn’t you agree?” 

Nextly Leapole being he now quite ill-tempered, verging to the point of being riled replied he impugning her foul character even further,” Yours is a dark soul beclouded by storms, a sceptic’s heart brooding as it considers pacing back and forth, but doth God sits upon his mighty throne and laughs at ones as miserable as thee. Just as love is the illumination of our souls, hate is its darkening. I give thee but one more chance; return to us what is rightfully ours!” 

Then Agrava twistingly said, “Oh, a thousand pardons mercy me, I’ve misplaced my manners can’t you see. Now allow me to show my most gracious hospitality, for I’m sure ye three are quite weary from your journey.” And lastly Agrava exclaimed,” Some treats for my sweets my precious darlings, now, please, give our guests a more proper welcome, and I shan’t accept no as any answer!” And nextly that which caused me to grit my teeth was the clattering of spiny legs upon moldy stone, as now the walls around them began to crawl with life. And, too, to that very thing which I could only suppose, they moved as nightmares through this gothic dreamscape transposing and reordering themselves, indeed, the most horrible of apparitions it was. For now I shouldest frightfully see they were covered with spidery forms, and worse still hanging as a darkly cloud looming far above them, from the ceiling’s crossbeams were flungeth they a greatly ensemble, a perfect panoply of webish horror twined they together with many cords, as greatly nets spun from the spider’s loom. Oh, now it was as a summer’s torrential rain as layer after crushing layer showered down upon them, until, alas, they were obscured from sight they were. Nextly as tried though as I might to peer through this their new ghastly garb, which availed me not in the slightest for it was a bewilderment of webs as forged from iron which now weighed down heavily upon them, as if now they were ripened grapes placed within the hot winepress of Agrava’s burning anger. But then, most thankfully before their wicked Queen could gloat shouldest he mighty Hawthorne tear asunder these coverings most dreary of theirs with his claws fashioned they infrangible by Orin the Wise, and thusly they were unfettered from this their silken bonds and once more made they free again. But nextly to my dismay shouldest he Leapole relinquish his glorious shield to Prince Autumen, and thus implored him from the very pit of his soul and said he with their backs against the rungs of the upper stairway,” Hasten forward my friend and seek the candle’s truthful flame, for this justly cause here we shall make our stand; we shall stay until whatever end!” I did hear him vowingly say. 

Now lastly he bade him,” This misfortune of ours has dealt us this only chance, so keep your eyes straight and refrain thyself to gaze this way henceforth!” And yet again Autumen harkened to his words dashing he up the stairs, but could not he abstain from glancing back, now overwhelmed by his urge, and thus shouldest he see yet again his embattled friends submerged, but this time would they be awash in a shining multitude of obsidian bodies with churning limbs innumerable of those unspeakable creatures, a ghastly sea of Creepy Crawlers which had thus unleashed their drowning flood upon them once and for all. But even still it seemed that nothing could dim their glimmer of hope, even as they hopelessly toiled against this monstrous terror with all its many parts so very dark they were. Now jeopardy has its own devices and fright being its foremost torment, as now shouldest Autumen be menaced by the many unfavorable possibilities for his imperiled friends, which was now his most painful affliction, of course, as he madly raced through its fitful halls as only a crazed man trying to escape he from his keepers. Strangely how such hazards can provoke one’s thoughts, as now was he plagued with but only one mania as sought he most franticly as some poor pauper searching for a lost coin in his desperate penury, but even still he wasn’t to find what thus far eluded him… that shinning beckon of all their hopes. And thus doubt began to take its cruel hold, that great trepidation of the unknown which vexed his spirit, for as it turned Agrava’s fortress was more as a maze locked in a labyrinth, with endless deadly-ends, in dimly corridors with countless twists in ceaseless passages he soon quickly learned as he spun in his dizziness. Then being quite baffled pondered he aloud and said, “It wouldst be a simple thing to findeth a seashell in the desert than something veiled in this such a quandersome place.”  

But suddenly to my voiceless horror, I shouldest have surely shrieked as then Agrave lurched from her darkened corner, with her coldly heart as black as a tyrant’s and asked,” Tarry here with me and talk for a spell?” And then she flew into a rage and said,” How dare thee invade thine thralldom, didst thou thinkest you couldst escape me thou frail child of weakness, thou child of light as seeking your higher power, such a pathetic trifle! Yea, in the record of events it is but the merest of trifles… a trifle adrift within the vacuous ether of your mind! Harkened unto me now, I have a secret to tell thee, for I was bred for the nocturnal, the black terror which creepeth by the gloom of night, and so shall I cast thee within my fierce furnace, upon the broiling andirons of my searing wrath, and just as soon your friends will join thee, for behold The Shadow of Death is near, even at the door and is yet fallen upon them as we speak.” And was not her elocution most threatening as she concluded and said,” Now, before I dispatch with thee – is this what you’re looking for my foolish, stupid child? Then being he quite startled,  Autumen beheld a chest gilded with the choicest gold, and was it not extolled with the most curious inscriptions which set upon the floor, and shouldest his eyes detect something brightly which shone through its keyhole. Now a most gleeful Agrava with one of her sinuous legs, that one she most favored, so very long and spindly it was had upended the candle’s golden keep with its villainous swipe, and thus out trundled forth their truthful flame as brightly as the gleaming sun upon the noon of day. 

Now I heard that which Agrava said as she flaunted about with it and boasted,” You might as well have a last look for it will be your last,” and then she spewed forth poisonous venom into his eyes which hence clabbered them fastly shut with its fiery sting! And so poor Autumen becameth he as blind as a beggar, for he could not see the slightest nor lest, and thusly I felt as a forgotten promise, unable was I in my ignorance to make right what was wrong, as I listened to her wretched laugh so full of spiteful mirth. Then did greedy Agrava admiringly say,” Why, what a wonderful shield which accompanies thee my sightless young friend, I do believe my senses declare a certain something about it… a power, perhaps?” But now to my utter surprise Autumen replied he and said,” Nay, there’s nothing special about this old thing least of all deserving any renown, no distinction nor imparted fame shouldest be found within it. I assure you, your senses are deceived, I decree there is no enchantment placed upon this metal!” Then I heard she giggled and said,” I do believe we have something to hide don’t we, for my senses never lead me astray nor never lie as you do.”  And the more he tried to deceive her the clearer she seen through his disguise and thus he stood before her as made he of glass, he was quite transparent and unable to confound her it seemed. But, nevertheless, as time would only have Agrava grew exceedingly weary of his feeble attempts to conceal the truth from her and said,” Do you think me a witless fool, child? Your prying eyes will go nicely with wine and your lying tongue too!” 

And again Autumen deceivingly replied and said he with the aim of almost challenging her,”  I’ve concealed nothing from thee, I’ve revealed all that which is be known to me. I assure you all my revelations or secure, and I canst only say if belief is what you desire then but seize it for I canst not stop thee.” And then Agrave said,” I have but one proviso that you shan’t have life beyond the walls of this room, for I tell thee now it will become your sepulcher, and your skull shall I use as my goblet!” And then from hands, Oh, so helpless as from the hands of babes they were shouldest the thieving Queen selfishly laid holt to the shield with a wickedly smile so very pleased, and thus I beheld her flesh paled with the grimmest of horrors, and as now with a trembling voice she beseeched Autumen and prayed,” What’s happening to me… Why can’t I unhand this torturous thing!” She did cry. Then I heard the Prince slyly reply being quite pleased with himself,” Oh, mercy me, I mentioned not that no evil hand can touch this shield without paying a price so dear. Oh, canst thou ever find it in your cold heart to forgive me, please, say you can?” Then Agrava yelled she and said,” I’ll pay anything to pry this wretched thing lose, name the price and it’s all yours!” She lied. Now most thankfully Autumen responded he in truth and answered her,” Why, the price is your life and that’s no lie.” 

Then nextly now to that harbinger of things to come, that yowling howl which could only precedeth as I heard Agrava screamed she a most dreadful scream, and with yet the sound still lodged in her throat was she not then transposed into a sculpture of lifeless dust which crumbled with the slightest touch of but one’s finger with the greatest of gingerly ease. Now, alas, Autumen had regained the use of one his eyes, however, yet still a burning blur it was unto him as he grasped The Glorious Shield and The Candle of Truth and made his way bumbling he down the stairs from whence he cameth before, but, nevertheless, this was not to be the end of Agrava’s dark praxis. For even in death’s moldering decay, she was as the devil parading about in her unholy pageant… the foulest of creature she was. But even still as doth joy cometh in the morn when the day is anew with song was I, for when the mural returned us to bravely Leapole and Hawthorne, they most thankfully remained and dwelt they among the living, for, of course, most thankfully Agrava was a liar at heart, but, however, as of yet they were still contending against all the worse… the most wicked parts of nature it seemed, and how they held back such a darkly tide I tell thee I shall never knowest.

But sadly I would not be left undisturbed to consider such thoughts, as thusly mine spine began to shiver with a tingle which panged upon my nerves with this its most insufferable pinch. Yea, with its wrenching spasms, its shrillness bored ever deeper, for now hurling through the darkness with the eye of a bows men, whistled an arrow which sheened with the vilest of poisons, and thusly I seen an unsuspecting Leapole was its mark to be… for unaware he was to this secret threat which now fastly approached towards his boutonniere, the lovely spray of flowers in his left buttonhole just above his beating heart. But, alas, the arrow was not to be sharper than Hawthorne’s forever watchful eyes so faithful and true were they, as now he placed his own heart betwixt them and thus sheltered him from its deadly point. And then shouldest mine ears be pierced by such a thunderous roar which seemed to never end, and was not Agrava’s dark fortress, her castle now shaken to its very foundations, as the dust from the ages fall from the rafters as snow; as the very stones around them began to shift and crack they did. 

But even still wounded Hawthorne roared and roared, until, alas, the shattered castle began to sway in its falter, and thus I beheld a shaken Autumen tumbling he down the crumbling stairs now dazed and bruised was he. Oh, now it was as if the whole world was toppled from its place as the castle unraveled around them, and thusly Leapole and Autumen were flummoxed in their thrown confusion, as dared they not to move an inch, not a wee square, for both frontwards and behind they beheld splintered beams so colossal and fractured stones so very wide came crashing they down so frightfully near to them, as closely as a razer’s shave I dare venture to say, so frightfully close… no more than a sliver’s width apart they were. But then nextly shouldest grow silent the roar so mighty, and all that which remained was heard the heavy groan of ruined walls and battered stone, now jetting they forth in their most deadly protuberances. And thus it came to pass as I witnessed with strength so nimble the winged giant springing he now from falling stone to timber, to falling timber to stone through this the castle’s hurling gauntlet of death. 

Oh, now I shouldest say drawing he from his love’s higher strength, its supreme devotion, he regarded not his own life and would gladly give it away, for preferred he to die a thousand deaths rather than to lose another so dear, as now he determined with iron will to save his imperiled companions before they were forever entombed in the castle’s falling debris; such a clamorous confusion it all was, as a ponderous puzzle shuffling about through all its falling space, within this its most deadliest of spheres…its universe of death. And thusly against all that which countered reasoning he brought them forth and carried them safely yonder, beyond the castle’s finale crash, Oh, now nothing more than a heaping mound of broken dreams, shattered in its disarray, from its once, former golden era when all its visions were bright and its days were made fair, now long before Agrava’s name was ever cursed upon one’s lips.  And then I had almost mercifully forgotten about the arrow, when, alas, I heard muffled by his glorious mane collapsed he Hawthorne now with a thud so mallow it was. For most sadly, in the end its poison had done him no good, and thus there was a great falling of silence as I felt as a stranger within my own skin not wanting to wear it any longer, to be made as a wondering spirit, to be free from all my sorrow as now I beheld Hawthorne tenderly gazed he upon Leapole for the last, for what surely seemed the longest, most aching moment, but not nearly long enough, as now Hawthorne’s eyes dimed they to but a mere twilight of their former glory, as now their once lustrous, most lively shine grew they cold in their stillness and was soon closed by death.  And thus my heart broketh, for it was the passing of majestics which shall not grace this poor world again, as Leapole must have felt his friend’s soul fastly fleeting through his fingertips, uponeth the final flight of his mighty spirit… never again in life to returneth unto him, and, Oh, now how It would only be years later that I shouldest be revisited by such pain… that for my beloved Lorie. 

For I can still remember her shawl all wrapped with care as she left in the tender years of life’s youth. The seasons rejoiced in their passing, but this heart of mine could not. The years now too have all taken their flight and fled they away… never again to returneth, and yet I still see Lorie’s shawl all wrapped with care. Oh, to be embraced by the darkness, to hide from the sun which only mocks my sorrow. The fire seems much colder now with Lorie not here all wrapped in her shawl. I can still hear her laughter, her tears fall as the warm rain upon my cheeks; even the wind carries her sweet perfume. The town folk have all but forgotten her now, and still I see Lorie’s shawl all wrapped with care. It shall forever remindeth me with the coldest of daggers through the warmest of hearts. In my grief, I die daily from a wound which shall never heal for my true love… now only shadows. Oh, how lonely this old heart has grown… so many years have come and gone, and the day has since passed into the long night. Oh, my Lorie, where have you gone?… And such was my grief as I pondered I would never again see his like so noble and kind was he, and then shouldest I awaken from my sorrow, to again the sound of distantly thunder which shook the land as lightning lit the blackened sky, and I beheld Autumen somberly said nothing, dismayed and crestfallen with his head bowed low upon his knees in his quiet heartache, for a loss he was, he hadn’t the words, for words now would never do. But even though it would not have mattered, for Leapole was blinded by his grief and alone in his agony… for he could see no other…lost he was in his memories torment, forever punishing himself. Now haunted by their re-visitations, that of his brave bravado, those many bold words in which he spoke at the preamble of their odyssey’s beginning, and such is the cruelest of circles when it’s made complete, when one’s very words are turned against them, they canst prove to be sharper then the sharpest blade, able to eviscerate one’s very soul… such a merciless edge it is when its hewn by one’s own tongue. And so it was but merely the unveiling, the commencement of sorrows as even now the heavy cloudbursts began they to squall down upon them, as its cold rain mingled with Leapole’s many fervent tears, all brightly shinning with the remembrance of Hawthorne. Yea, forming they now as great torrents upon his welted face, for I can only say that he loved his dearly friend more than one could ever possibly know, more than his very life, and such was his deeply wound, that I sensed it would never mend, for, alas, some scars are even too great for one’s heart to bear, no, not the ointment of time nor even love’s healing balm could ever remedy… for thusly his heart was made cleft and rent in two, the halves could never again be made whole. Then nextly was heard a great disturbance, such as an uproar, as a crowded bazaar in all its commotion, as then I beheld thronged about them as vastly far as legions could spread, the Spidery Spinnerets, the Creepy-Crawlers congregating around them in their untold assembly… Oh, so exceeding they were without number such scores could not be attained. Now I must tell so very grim it all was their situation could prove no worse, as now the very flames of their souls had been quenched, and thusly they surrendered to this horrible end so bitter it was. 

Then most sadly I beheld them as legless in their fatigue with their strength extinguished, with all their verve ebbed from their parched bones in their exhaustion, as they laid there against their fallen friend now expecting they were what was soon most surely to fall upon them in all their brokenness. And then Autumen said as he braced for their angry arrows and cuffed fists,” Alas, promises are not ours to keep… it was, indeed, a hill too high for us to climb my friend. We shan’t live long enough to be heroes, but these here shall remember us henceforth, shall they tell stories and sing songs and recite poetry unto their children yet unborn, in our remembrance of how they ground our bones to dust and rejoiced in our passing!” 

And, indeed, they would, but not in such a way as Autumen frightfully deemed, for then to my utter surprise, shouldest my astonished ears strangely hear that all in the crowd began to regardeth them with greatly reverence, in the exultant concourse of their victorious praise, now speaking most highly of them with so many jubilant cheers rising they far above the shattered ruins, and was not there even the playing of fifes and drums for such now was their merriment. And so it was that I seen most Creepy Crawlers were quite meekly shy and much so rather to hide than to cause one harm, and thusly so they dwelt far from evil’s home, not wanting any dark portion of Agrava, or her cruel thralls which served her every behest without complaint, for she ruled them by their own wicked accord… their pact joined by blood, and thus would my angry convictions be altered towards them. For as I once despised them unto very death itself, but as I found love is just merely the key, for you must first choose to walk through its door, and so I did and embraced it forgiveness within the warmness of its hearth…in its perfect absolution.  Then nextly just hovering above the fluttering sound of feathered wings could be heard, And Most Glorious Be, I beheld standing there before them, what appeared…what could only have been an angel with wings, Oh, so beautiful of light. Then I heard the Lovely Lady spoke to them and said she most gratefully,” Why you gallant few, you brave three, thank you for freeing me from these castle walls, for long ago wicked Agrava imprisoned me in its cold stone.” 

And such was her sweet words, they were as apples of gold, but even still they were of no comfort to Leapole, now deafened by his sadness. But then could be seen a crystal teardrop falling from her eye, for she felt Leapole’s rent heart as if it were her very own, and thus she gently held Hawthorne with arms so soft and warmly said,” Please, don’t be afraid, love has its way for its found a place in your heart.” 

Then she continued to say,” Love is as spirit vailed in the frailty of flesh, it canst not be weighed but its presence is no less felt. Canst thou seest, it can come quietly as a dove or roaring as a mighty lion, but first you must believe.”  

And thus as she tenderly concluded and said,” A friend so dear will never stray, and as long as one lives so shall the other and so shall he always.” 

And whilst Leapole’s hands and face was yet buried deeply within Hawthorne’s fur, now upon the still mantle of his chest, shouldest the music of Leapole’s heart giveth its silence with a long caesura, a most quietly pause as it skipped its time… its drumming pace, and at once he felt Hawthorne’s began to throb most strongly, as again his lifeless lungs revived with a great breath, and then stood he and stretched in all his wondrous strength, for now alive he was… Oh, most happily death’s rigors had lost its icy hold upon him and could not claw him back again! Verily, they had broken the arms of their enemies, for, alas, they were but merely clay rendered unto flesh, but the mighty arm which upheld them in its most bountiful mercy was imperishable and everlasting in its love. And then to that very thing which was impossible, I beheld with my own eyes their two souls were intertwined and made they as one, indivisible, inseparable were they in their mixturous potion of spirits, and that is when Leapole learned Hawthorne’s true name, Spearous… The Valiant One, which was bestowed unto him by Orin the Wise and was not he Hawthorne (The Gift of Rights, this The Hammers of Nore) unto Rowan, as he acquired the age of manhood before his coronation, to the ascension of the throne of once mystic Nore… now what surely seemed many lifetimes ago, and countless worlds removed were they. And so it was as Leapole looked he with gladness into Spearous’ eyes as for the first and called him by name, and straightway in the intermingling of their minds he knew he would now be Forever Hawthorne… Faithful and True…he could be no other now, for such was their bond, bound they together by the loveliest of gems, as love has always been the brightest jewel in the crown of one’s life. 

Then the lovely Lady spoke to them once more and said she, “It was evil Agrava who cursed this realm once so beautiful by naming the sea Dread, and now by the right of victory it is your choice.” And then I heard she plainly asked them, “My courageous friends what shall it be, and, please, choose most warily?” she told. Then nextly I must say without even a merely thought so slight sprung Leapole from whence he mournfully reclined, from that very place when he before was made deathly prone in his sadness, and thus most happily proclaimed he whilst standing upon his tiptoes, with his most glorious arms outstretched they wide, and said he in his loudest voice as for every creature to hear, “The Sea of Joy!!!” proclaimed he with every silvery fiber of his spirit and soul.  For that’s what his heart felt, and, Oh, Be To Joy, I too shouldest be happily persuaded to say the very same! 

Then I heard again all in the crowd began to cheer once more, and this time Leapole’s name ascended beyond the realm of peaks, above the clouds, soaring upon the wings of their applause, and thusly said they in their newly found liberty,” He choose wisely and how very uncommon it was, that one of so few years could be so sagely favored!” they told as they reveled in this new glorious age of theirs. Now I shouldest say all hearts had good cause to giveth they rise, for as now all the Creepy-Crawlers were singing and dancing as their children were laughing and playing upon Hawthorne’s gentle wings…so white…so very strong. And so it was that, nay, not one had even bothered to notice that the rain had since relented from its tempestuous pourings, for now so very happy they were, as if it was the reprieve of convicts released from Agrava’s cruelest captivity, as they filled their souls with the life giving breathe of freedom’s freshly air, at this the advent of its first appearing after such a long while, that only the eldest of their elders could remember a fair day as mildly as this in its unfaultable concert of vision and sound, within the splendor of one’s eye and the concerto of one’s ear in its grandest performance, a harmony it was as no other seen before nor heard. And was it not to be the loveliest of vistas as from under the broken gate all beheld the sky was now as blue as Hawthorne’s eyes, and yet again returned the many feathered flocks of birds to this realm, now plunging and weaving in their element without penalty of reprisal. Then within all hearing, that which was carried aloft the melodic wind was the Sea of Joy singing its sonnet unto triumph (The Joy of All Rhapsodies) this it’s loveliest of medleys’, for as it was most happily released from its terrible burden by the wonderful promise of its new name. As now too the blackened earth in which they stood upon began to spring forth with splendid life, and before long all lushly turned to an emerald paradise as far as one could ever dream, and so Agrava’s evil corruption was expunged from the land… from every mountain high… every valley made low… from every hill top and every glade and dale…from every nook and hollow as thusly all throughout its hostile range, its countless miles and endless acres of disfigurement becameth they unto them a familiar world no more, but rather now it was a burgeoning expanse madeth anew, as surely as it must have once appeared upon that most glorious dawning of creation’s third day, and thusly was the sensorium of my being filled by its awe, by a beauty made matchless in its perfection above all other realms. 

And so it came to pass that which was to be shown by the mural’s brightly, mystic light that a child’s love was to crown the sky, for, indeed, no little Creepy-Crawler wee had never seen the golden light that which a day could ever bring, and all now admired as they turned their heavenly gaze towards the celestial sun’s most radiant ring, no longer vailed it was by smoke, nor would they ever again have the taste of ash upon their lips, but now would they throughout all their remaining years be flavored with the sweetness of wild honeysuckle, every manner of flowering plant and all that which was crafted by seed. As too within my viewing was beheld their great light frescoed the verdant earth, as the sun painted the sky with its most brilliant rendering with so many sorted shades and vibrant hues, as all now adored they its mishmash of mosaic color…never again to be banished from their sight. Oh, now I wished I could have remained longer, but sadly it wasn’t meant to be, for where there are hellos there must also be goodbyes, and so shall it always be with farewells so bittersweet, indeed, it truly was. 

Then nextly I seen Leapole and Autumen upon Hawthorne soaring with the sea far below them, and did not it seem as if the Great Maker in his divinely providence had anointed the sky with his sacred bow, with its beautiful accompaniment…its septuplet band of ensemble colors each playing their own lovely note. Now urging them ever onward as if it was Caspar’s star of the magi guiding them safely home as if it were. Then most happily again as fate would only have, they beheld he their mighty champion which preserved them, that very one which snatched them from the sodden maws of the ravening deep, for was it to be I found Leviathan serenely gliding was he leading his kind now through the rolling, far-flung sea’s most tranquil azure in all its peaceful abundance, betwixt the wide breadth of the horizons far. Then shouldest I hear Leapole called down to him and said he,” A good day has come our brave Leviathan…thank you for all you’ve done!” and then with a tenderly hand held to his heart, comprehending their paths shouldest not cross a second, if, indeed, all things being equal, and the scales of chance were balanced with righteous weight, as thusly Leapole prayed he God’s speed and said, “Fair thee well and may your life be full of happy years; abide thee always and live forever our most faithful guardian, our buckler and shield, our mighty bastion strong! And then waved he and said goodbye as only a friend could truly do.  For now I can only say that trust’s ties had adjoined them so, and if he shouldest ever findeth need to call upon them, come running with fools haste they would. Then as I beheld mile after mile flew they onward listening to the serenading lullaby of Hawthorne’s hypnotic wings, the soothing method in their repetition as the hours of light soon quickly passed with their gradually softening towards the evening skies of magenta, and then at long last there it was as rising as Atlantis from the midst of the waters, beneath the emerging, amorous light of the seven lovely sisters of the Pleiades, all dancing they were with the proud sons of Taurus… shouldest they again see Pandore’s wondrous heights and too smelled its sweet fragrances of life garland upon the sea breeze, and all was just as they remembered it… as a picture etched upon stone not ever to be forgotten or lost it was. Now so many miles, so many great perils they faced together, but even still shouldest their hearts always remaineth even as they journeyed far from home, for is not home where the heart is safe and warm Autumen deeply pondered within himself, but Leapole and Hawthorne were blissfully lost in their silent conversations unvoiced, exploring the quiet mysteries of one’s very being and soul, searching they through each and every inexpressible one… discovering they its wondrous marvels… its secret works. 

Then beheld I Pandore’s garden of truth again bristled with blossoms, for now free it was from deception’s strangling weeds… hewn down and plowed under as the grass which groweth. Then from the long  ago echoes I heard they hailed Autumen and his loyal companions as heroes they did, and too was said before one uttered a word did they honor the good Prince and Leapole and yes even Hawthorne for the truth they spoke. Then nextly that which shouldest enchant my soul upon the dusky night’s approach was the songs of twilight heard. For now low was cradled the sun which ushered the evening’s fall, and thusly the magic mural deemed, and then upon its golden frame shouldest its stained glass reappear. Then after a still moment so silent it was, Hyison turned he to ask, ”Oh, grandfather, tell me where have they now gone!” Then with a most loving reflection in his eyes his grandfather told,” Why, they’re in your heart my child and so shall they always be.” 

Then he said,” This tapestry woven by time can do wonders untold and someday you shall see them all.” And Hyison did. For its magic showed him countless quests and endless dreams for he lived to be very old, very old, yes, indeed. Now my stride isn’t quite so wide and my sight has dulled but these eyes still shine. For still firmly hold I to this lesson learned now so long ago that love lives on. Even I saith if the winds of change shouldest sweep the world away shall it not remaineth. No more Atlantis, no more Olympus, life is but an instant but love lives on. Flesh and bone may not be stone but I say love is stronger than both. No more Pompeii, no more Copan, even the fires of Pele pales against this the heart. Even I say from ocean’s depths to the heights of Everest love bridges all times. From the Sea of Galilee, to the Sea of Tranquility there’s no distance too great. I tell the stars tell the story of the lion and the scorpion and when even pierced one shall see that love survives in triumph it does. I shouldest say even the moon and stars may fadeth away, but love shall always spring eternal in this the place called the heart. 

​Now this old hourly glass by my bedside has countlessly turned with this lifely time, and even still to this very day my dreams shall always carry me. Always seeking, always searching for that far off horizon where the earth meets the sky… for those were the days of my youth and I shall cherish them always.                                                                     
                                               
                                                                    The End