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Now whence the Avenger, born truly at last,
And the lives of the souls his land kept in the past?
Now where will he form first, and how will he live,
And will this once-Guardian learn to forgive?
And what of two dragons, one silver, one black,
Will they guard a city in ruin and wrack?
One snatched from his line forever I heard,
Was this a mistake or was it his Wyrd?
Afar in the Islands, soon coming to land,
A madman with power in the palm of his hand
Unheeded that grown has disjointed his mind;
With family and troupe go to join his own kind.
Will a soul that has waited long be soon reborn
Kept centuries in a tangle with many lives worn?
Will those lives and mistakes be still graven in stone
Or will no-one's business be tied with his own?
An old man with an apple beside a bright stream,
Is his work in the West done now, just a dream?
Has he made restitution and led people through
Or is there much more of his Wyrd left to do?
And of the new princess what news can we tell,
Last sieged in
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