The Birth of Kastalia (Jerenii Bardic)

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By: Jerenii Posted on: April 27, 2006


Within the shaded corners of the pond,
a lily stands in mute remembrance there--
a time when all of Sapience fell to prayer.
It came upon a morning as it dawned,
and with it crept an illness and despond
that touched all life with its unbound despair.
And slow, the people came to be aware
that from the waters fell disease was spawned.

The fishes died along the river's shore,
all rotten as the filth began to spread,
and kelp contaminated as though dead,
as soon the plague touched every city's door.
The people questioned all that came before
as with the illness came both fear and dread.
Some said the Sea-Lord caused the plague instead,
as Zaphar called out loudly to his Lord:


"The tear's soft warmth is growing with its size."


No river water left could be called pure.
One lake remained--the shores of Vundamere.
Some Nerai rallied close amongst their peers,
infecting self to make their homes secure.
They swore their lives to somehow find a cure,
as others swept the gathered dust of years--
they sought the answer in the words of Seers.
Yet all the people found themselves unsure.

The naiads wept as worse the hardship fell,
and, hopeless, mortals prayed to the Divine.
Yet further moved the travesty in time:
with nothing could the illness be dispelled.
But we were not alone in what befell!
For then the ocean's currents were aligned
and lunar forces came to be combined--
the change unfolded that could make all well.


In truth, the Goddess listened to our cries.


Just when the river's Flame had smoldered low--
the end of all was close enough to taste--
we hurried to the ocean with all haste.
Then from the salty beaches down below,
from deep within the ocean's briny flow,
arose a Goddess, full unique in grace,
and star-kissed eyes shone clearly from Her face--
the moonlight and the ocean both aglow.

The lily from Her hand grew quick and strong--
the petals cured the plague's unlikely source,
and spotless water turned back to its course.
Her mercy put the realm where it belongs,
with balance midst all levels of the song.
Ascended thus Kastalia, fair resource,
a balm upon our suffering and remorse--
She rose in glory, righting that great wrong.

Upon the lucid moments of moonrise,
the sheltered places where the current lies,
observe the endless wonder of Her eyes.