CXVIII.

A soothing wind of silence surrounded her as she wakened.

Curled up in the corner of a hallway wrapped up in hides,

She blew a breath into the wind, sending fire through flow’s guides

Towards the firepit; igniting it with embers hastened.

The vivid scenes of last night’s altercation were cleared skies

In her mind’s eye, and so much work did her stay now comprise.

Howbeit; firstly, she would cleanse the corporeal, sacred

Remnants of holy blood on her bare body emblazoned.

CVIX.

She stretched out her arms and gathered her bloodied attire

Which was haphazardly thrown about. Soon after she washed

Them with a rush of rainy wind, wholly with water bedashed

While they levitated in midair. Lazily, she’d hire

The flow for most of her work, since there was so much about;

It’d be a shame if she were to toil hard and work without

Relying on the magick’s abundance. She’d only require

A lesser amount; this once succumb to her itching desire.

CXX.

Donning her uniform and cloak of fur, which was adorned

In dazzling tribal marks of her kin; she went undismayed

Into the perilous room where the Tsar’s remains still laid

Unmoving, empty. Thinking of fighting the tears, to have mourned

The passing of her kin-in-kind, yet finding her solitude

Too comforting. This ‘loneness granted her with such certitude.

She moved him outside and neatly lowered his body malformed

Onto the soil; enclosing him in the snowy and icy ground.

CXXI.

Tradition dictated a quarter’s moon of wait before

The ritual of last rites. Thus, the first stage was put to sleep.

Now she would go onward with the cleansing of the tower’s keep.

Rushing the lake’s water in a current from the very shore

Towards and through the gate, splashing and cleaning off the remnants

Of blood which were splattered on the floor, and walls, while wary droplets

Bounced off in midair, preventing them from harming the scribe’s lore

Or putting out the fire, as it blazed in great, dancing ardour.

CXXII.

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Alas, this place was still no safe haven or sanctuary;

Therefore, she chose an elevated spot as her stronghold.

However, the rotting wooden stairs would easily infold

She reckoned, and thus, chose to make a decision voluptuary.

Taming the flow yet again and forming steps of windy force,

Which would act as skipping stones upon a river’s winding course.

Leaping between the gusts of wind, she soared up to her new eyrie,

Giving full trust into the magick’s muse without need for worry.

CXXIII.

A darkened, unilluminated hallway awaited her,

With sunlight pouring in flat streams through the leaky rundown walls.

With a twirl of her digits, she brightened the abandoned halls,

And found a pair of doors on each side of the interior.

Without much thought, she chose one as her impromptu bedroom;

To boot, she found a ladder stretching upwards in the gloom.

In curiosity’s grip, she wandered up. No reason to defer

Her exploration of the keep, her indulgence to pamper.

CXXIV.

Mountains parted the valley in splendour before her eyes,

As the lake below slumbered on, by the Guardians warded.

Wind whirled about with the poignant essence of the flow uncharted,

Which glanced along one’s senses, even seen make dancing strides

In the rising light of the morning sun. The trees that dotted

The slopes gently waltzed about, as their pearly gowns fluttered

In the breeze. Every so often, she spotted a rustling guise

Of lone deer which dug beneath the snow in search of a prize.

CXXV.

In a moment of foolish wonder among this reserve

Of flow abundant, she pressed her fingers upon her temple

And gazed at the lake’s winding tale. Magick gathered with a gentle

Sweep about her, instilling a vision into her nerve,

Into her mind. Flow whirled in a pulsing, jerking motion

On one beat and soothing on the next. She gazed at the formation,

The glacier’s recede and advance in the same pulsing swerve

Which enraptured the flow and beauty of the peaks did preserve.

CXXVI.

Breathing in and out. The blooming of flowers, the falling of leaves,

The nature’s cycle. Tears welled up in her astonished eyes

As she was faced with the land’s radiance in all its dyes.

Alas, the sad melody which all of Outerworld bereaves,

Did mark the descent into a darker time. The ice and snow

Came down one day and left nevermore, shrouding the world in woe.

Still, she remained a maiden fair in her white-blazoned weaves,

Though elegant, her solemn and sombre state worn on her sleeves.