And you hope they forgive
And so you live
With your memories buried deep.
This is the price of commanding.
This is the price of commanding --
That if you won't, others will.
So you take your post,
Mindful of each ghost --
You've a debt to them to fill.
This is the price of commanding.
(Jadrek)
I sit amid the dusty books. The dust invades my very soul.
It coats my heart with weariness and chokes it with despair.
My life lies beached and withered on a lonely, bleak, uncharted shoal.
There are no kindred spirits here to understand, or care.
When I was young, how often I would feed my hungry mind with tales
And sought the fellowship in books I did not find in kin.
For one does not seek friends when every overture to others fails
So all the company I craved I built from dreams within.
Those dreams-from all my books of lore I plucked the wonders one by one
And waited for the day that I was certain was to come
When some new hero would appear whose quest had only now begun
With desperate need of lore and wisdom I alone could plumb.
And then, ah then, I'd ride away to join with legend and with song.
The trusted friend of heroes, figured in their words and deeds.
Until that day, among the books I'd dwell -- but I have dwelt too long
And like the books I sit alone, a relic no one needs.
I grow too old, I grow too old, my aching bones have made me lame
And if my futile dream came true, I could not live it now.
The time is past, long past, when I could ride the wings of fleeting fame
The dream is dead beneath the dust, as 'neath the dust I bow.
So, unregarded and alone I tend these fragments of the past
Poor fool who bartered life and soul on dreams and useless lore.
And as I watch despair and bitterness enclose my heart at last
Within my soul's dark night I cry out, "Is there nothing more?"
(Kethry: Oathbound)
Most folk avoid the Pelagir Hills, where ancient
wars and battles
Were fought with magic, not with steel, for land
and gold and chattels.
Most folk avoid the forest dark for magics still
surround it
And change the creatures living there and all
that dwell around it.
Within a tree upon a hill that glowed at night
with magic
There lived a lizard named Gervase whose life
was rather tragic.
His heart was brave, his mind was wise. He
longed to be a wizard.
But who would ever think to teach their magic
to a lizard?
So poor Gervase would sit and dream, or sigh as
sadly rueing
That fate kept him forever barred from good he
could be doing.
That he had wit and mind and will it cannot be
debated
He also had the kindest heart that ever gods
created.
One day as Gervase sighed and dreamed all in
the forest sunning
He heard a noise of horse and hound and sounds
of two feet running.
A human stumbled to his glade, a human worn
and weary
Dressed in a shredded wizard's robe, his eyes past hope and dreary.
The magic of his birthplace gave Gervase the
gift of speaking.
He hesitated not at all-ran to the wizard,
squeaking,
"Hide human, hide! Hide in my tree!" he danced
and pointed madly.
The wizard stared, the wizard gasped, then hid
himself right gladly.
Gervase at once lay in the sun until the hunt
came by him
Then like a simple lizard now he fled as they
came nigh him.
And'glowered in the hollow tree and hissed when
they came near him
And bit a few dogs' noses so they'd yelp and leap
and fear him.
"Thrice damn that wizard!" snarled his foe. "He's
slipped our hunters neatly.
The hounds have surely been misled. They've
lost the trail completely."
He whipped the the dogs off of the tree and sent
them homeward running
And never once suspected it was all Gervase's
cunning.
The wizard out of hiding crept. "Thrice blessing
I accord you!
And is there somehow any way I can at all re-ward you?"
"I want to be a man like you!" Gervase replied
unthinking.
"A wizard-or a man?" replied the mage who
stared, unblinking.
"For I can only grant you one, the form of man,
or power.
What will you choose? Choose wisely, I must
leave within the hour."
Gervase in silence sat and thought, his mind in
turmoil churning.
And first the one choice thinking on, then to the
other turning.
Yes, he could have the power he craved, the
magic of a wizard
But who'd believe that power lived inside a lowly
lizard?
Or he could have the form of man, but what
could he do in it?
And all the good he craved to do-how then
could he begin it?
Within the Councils of the Wise there sits a
welcome stranger
His word is sought by high and low if there is
need or danger.
He gives his aid to all who ask, who need one to
defend them
And every helpless creature knows he lives but
to befriend them.
And though his form is very strange compared
to those beside him
The mages care not for the form, but for the
mind inside him.
For though he's small, and brightly scaled, they
do not see a lizard.
He's called by all, both great and small, "Gervase,
the Noble Wizard."
He's known by all, both great and small, Gervase
the Lizard Wizard!
(Tarma: "Swordsworn")
"I shall love you till I die!"
Talasar and Dera cry.
He swears "On my life I vow
Only death could part us now!"
She says "You are life and breath
Nothing severs us but Death!"
Lightly taken, lightly spoke,
Easy vows are easy broke.
"Come and ride awhile with me/'
Talasar says to Varee,
"Look, the moon is rising high,
Countless stars bestrew the sky.
Come, or all the hours are flown
It's no night to lie alone."
This the one who lately cried
That he'd love until he died.
"Kevin, do you think me fair?"
Dera smiles, shakes back her hair.
"I have long admired you --
Come, the night is young and new
And the wind is growing cold --
I would see if you are bold -- "
Is this she who vowed till death
Talasar was life and breath?
Conies the dawn-beneath a tree
Talasar lies with Varee.
But look-who should now draw near --
Dera and her Kevin-dear
He sees her -- and she sees him --
Oh confusion! Silence grim!
Till he sighs, and shakes his head-(pregnant pause)
"Well, I guess we must be dead!"
(Leslac and Tarma)