Waves echo in this small cavern
Carved by man. Light reflects
Across the stone,
Dancing in bolts of red-gold lightning. A storm of wrath and greed
And darkness between and below, shadowing
The forms beneath save for the briefest of glimpses.
The bunyip swims. The crab draws fishes
Darting beneath the waves.
North and west a boat skims the waves beneath the tower.
All this I see in the ebb and surge,
Surge and ebb.
The crab made fewer mistakes
Than I have,
I have lived far longer.
I should not have told the dwarf;
He brays all.
He stood pantsless?
Paranoia and insecurity.
Nearly three millenia.
Can I trust
Them or is it
The import of this venture demands I persist.
History lives here
These three are important, but cannot survive
It may not be enough to study and observe,
As it was not when the Tyrant stirred.
I cannot withdraw.
Have I been afraid since the herald’s fall?
An eagle soaring.
Will the crab become my kin?
Flames banish shadows.
The three are not yet ready to perish
to be reborn.
The blade must remain whole.
We will require healing.
We will need to grow stronger.