[At the outskirts of the Saint's main fortress,Tearfall,
There stood Erather.
Confident,back-straight,
He wielded flying balls of fire around the outer rims of his body.
As he changed the angle he was looking towards,
The flaming balls went rushing,as if a goner running for his life,
Rushing towards that on which their master laid eyes upon,
Consuming all that could be burnt,leaving nothing but ashes.
He briefly paused his exercise,
And as his hand flickered as always,
The small devils disappeared under the moons light.]
Erather:
What more is there to say,
When slowly,night turns into day,
As once the morning comes,none can ever stay,
That which we first wished to say.
Thus,the act of saying is left as a remembrance,
A light that is both deep and shallow,
A night that can cover and reveal any living shadow.
I was assembled by humans,yet I have no resemblance.
[Crossing the Snowy Mountains,
Foos,the eagle,continued his daily schedule,
He was almost back home after hunting the entire day.
The bird seemed to be aiming towards a largely grown forest,
Right next to the Lonely Plane.
A few moments by,a bit of fighting against the wind,
And Foos surely and quite softly landed on a tree.
He arrived just in time to great his master,Metira,
And what a joy for the now satisfied bird,
As she was singing:]
Metira:
You are the ground beneath my steps
You are the governor of all my weeps
You are the leaves above the water
You are that which I call shelter.
Through the decades spent together
And all the faces that passed before and after
We were the revelation
We chose what stayed and then fade away.
"But would you leave me
If I told you what I've done?
And would you leave me
If I told you what has become?
Because it's so easy,
To sing it so cold,
But it's so hard my love,
To say it to you all alone."
Soulless I remain after so many dark thoughts
Of all those whispers,all those heavy whispers
That echoed deep within myself,beneath the rocks
That now comes to torture us all with its silence.
...
[The last mage suddenly turned,
Flickered his hands faster and faster,all so faster,
He started screaming with all his might,
His hands spinning with agony.
At last,right before his feet gave up to an invisible pressure,
His hands held at his chest finally stopping their ritual,
Somehow flowing in front of his body,
Let out an awful crack and a great sphere of burning flames,
Flames spit from hell,as if a reminder of hell,
Blew away into the distance,hungry as if a hunting pray,
Going for far above the pillar of stone in the distance.
His rage was not yet complete,
Yet his voice shake as it met the cold air of the night:]
Erather:
How could you?
How dare you?
Who are you to take such a decision alone?
A curse is a curse for any other human out there,
Yet I pray that you will survive the blast,
As agony burns within my veins,
And if with love you threw our away...
[Erather rose from his knees,
His eyes of a burning gold,
Scrutinizing the night:]
Erather:
Then I pray again that you survive the blast,
So that my vengeance will find you along with flesh.
...
[As the mage turned nervously back towards the fortress,
The enormous fireball kept dominating the sky,
In its awake,it seemed as if a new sun had lit the clouds,
Spreading shadows left and right,
Seeking for its pray.
Alas,along the edge of the mountain,
It came to sudden halt a few meters above the perfect ground.
The fireball sparked as it shrank to the size of a fist,
It's color golden growing,twisted and ever so glowing.
Alas,the once great sphere,
Now the size of an apple,
Had found what it desired,
And as the skies roared as if a thousand cries suddenly began,
The small ball turned to the woods,raging and ravaging.
[Another cry met the former,
A crack of thunder,and a line made of lightning,
Tore the ground from the skies,
And met the glowing ball.
An explosion,
Rock,dust,bits of trees covered by fire,
All could be seen,yet nothing could be heard,
As the entire plain had been washed away with all those bits and pieces.
...
After the smoke wore off,
A fragile yet dominant silhouette remained were once stood a forest.
A bird took off towards the opposite region of the mountain from the figures hand.]
Metira:
Fly away Foo and tell our king and father that we are ready...
Go,MAKE HASTE!
He knows...
Inspiration:
