He could not recall the last time trees had seemed so high
the hero had forgotten that he couldn’t touch the sky
the world around him seemed to be much bigger than before
he quickly realized he wasn’t fearless anymore
The courage he had lost when he became too strong to fail
which long had kept him fighting under any flag or sail
now seemed like a distant dream that he could not recall
a host of dangers lurked and he was threatened by them all
When had he last felt so far from home in all his life
and did the cold of night always feel sharper than a knife
as a child he didn’t fear the creatures of the night
but now he slept uneasily beside a campfire’s light
The hero wandered through the foreign land and ventured south
but he could only sigh, no song would leave the hero’s mouth
he moved as slow as any soldier, tiring every day
stopping often for a rest and food along the way
He could no longer feel the magic flowing through the air
no matter how he tried he felt no power anywhere
sparks were all that he could summon with his shaking hand
he had almost no strength left and couldn’t understand
“I must have been cursed for spending too long in this place
this is would I get for working with that northern race”
maybe once he’d gone back home his powers would return
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then he’d once more have control of all the fires that burn
It took him many months to make the journey through the hills
in his youth it would have been a journey filled with thrills
but now the game he hunted was just keeping him alive
everything he did he was in the hope that he’d survive
But now he couldn’t charge ahead with careless disregard
any beast was strong enough to keep him on his guard
it frustrated him endlessly to face a wolf or bear
and not be able to kill it in moments, then and there
Cautiously avoiding every monster every day
relying on a sword of steel he found along the way
the rusted blade felt heavier with every desperate swing
but even at his weakest he would conquer everything
He threw away his heavy armour, when winter began
now it only acted as a hindrance when he ran
it felt so strange to face his own mortality once more
never had these woods felt so formidable before
Since his first day on the road so many years ago
he’d known that if his will was strong, then fate what make it so
though the nights were dark and his own heart was growing cold
he was still a hero and his deeds were still as bold
This pilgrimage was just a detour on the hero’s path
still the day would come when all his foes would face his wrath
his emperor would welcome him with songs just as before
and he would see the empire to the end of this long war
He even dared to smile one night while cooking up some fish
“that drunken prince was keen to lead, well now he’s got his wish
I’m sure he’ll be fine, I taught him well enough back then
as long as he’s still sober, he’ll see victory again”
His optimism was returning when the next spring came
and he was relieved to find the world was still the same
he found the empire’s border and the hunters’ den was there
though all he found residing there was one big hungry bear
He ran away, toward the battlefield still calling him
he didn’t have the time to fight such creatures on a whim
as he had expected, when he’d reached the southern plains
the northern army now resided in the towns’ remains
Under cover of the night, as quiet as a mouse
he dared to peak in through the window of a weathered house
confirming that the enemy was there he thought to fight
but still none of his magic would flow through him on that night
And so he used his knowledge of the area to hide
moving in the shadows putting battlefields aside
first he’d reach the empire, then he’d lift this awkward curse
then he’d make an epic of his ballad’s final verse