An Elegy for the Triumvirate
By: Silque Posted on: June 18, 2007
This work was discovered in the northern wastes, miraculously preserved deep
within the ice. Its provenance is impossible to determine with certainty, but
elements of 'Khalas' hint at the possibility that the author was one of the
Wanderer's Aldar followers in the great Chaos Wars. If this is so, then the
'Elegy' is very old indeed, and possibly the only work known to be penned by an
immortal hand.
The present editor trusts that the 'Elegy' will not be judged on moral grounds - after all, if the Triumvirate had not been defeated, he would not be alive today! Instead, he hopes that it will be treasured for its historic value, which has been explained, and for its artistic merit, which he hopes will speak for itself.
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An Elegy for the Triumvirate
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I. Agatheis
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Soft dawn, rosy-fingered, steals the soul of night,
And lovingly, her blushing arms embrace the hills.
Lonely mountain paths bathe in heav'n's light,
And day's sweet warmth the unicorn's breast fills.
Upright he stands, his chest against the dawn,
And dawn, in answer, dapples iv'ry flanks.
Stern dignity within that noble face is drawn,
Sweet beauty in the step of his lithe shanks.
He rears and neighs. His valley doth resound,
The humble earth in awe of peerless might,
His hooves so strong they break the yielding ground,
His horn a sun, its glistening glare so bright.
And yet, alas! Such earthly joys are felt as dross
By one who fell from heaven, and wails his loss.
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II. Lorielan
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A spark, a hundred thousand points of light
Illuminate her comely cheek and face,
As she surveys her empire bright,
The crystal queen of a crystal race.
Around her spins her shimmering swarm,
In everlasting praise and adoration.
Within prismatic splendor cloaked, her form
Surveys the strange and wondrous celebration.
But though her eyes with glorious luster shine,
They still are dimmed with suffering all unknown.
For revels, even of such sights divine
Still lose their savor, when enjoyed by her alone.
Flee from here, Queen, toward Proteus take wing,
Or else remain, the Queen without her King.
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III. Khalas
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The world was yours, once, to rule and roam.
Your wandering spirit found no challenge in sky or sea,
Nor solace. Your restive heart banished you from home,
And later Proteus. You fell from grace, but you were free.
Though all was lost, that dreadful day,
When dragon's fire burned the bloody field,
Yet what of that? When you were master of the fray
You shook the thrones of gods, and did not yield.
Yet I repent me of these thoughts, when I
Regard your form of stone. Upon this trackless plain
You stand, wanderer no more. Your eyes defy
High Proteus still, but they will never behold me again.
Then, since tears will never fall from eyes that cannot see,
It falls to me, fallen friend, to weep for thee.