XVI.

Wind continued to rush along. His golden strands of hair

Kept being blown ‘cross his morose face. Tears only now streaming

Down his dejected cheeks. The pain could be seen in his gleaming

Eyes as the moonlight shone upon them. He held his wife’s fair

And cold hands, clutching, clutching to them. All these memories

Now swept through the youth’s mind as she watched the anemones

That dotted her mother’s burial mound. A tombstone which read a prayer

Stood afore and above a willow tree the grove ensnared.

XVII.

The passing of her mother’s soul was a long-fought tragedy.

Though, she had now been buried for twelve months, given to Sky

To be shepherded in the meadows; her end was a sigh

Of relief. This cursed affliction of the Flow’s abnormality

Holds barely a remark in all the lost lore of bygone,

Departed moons, through which her tribe had endured till dawn.

Continuing to stand there, a hand reached onto her untactfully.

She turned to see who’d come to bother her so callously!

XVIII.

In fury’s grasp, her father grabbed her by the coat rushlike

And pulled her up onto his brown stallion without a spoken word.

She thrashed around to no avail, as her cry showed she’d been stirred

From her daydream. “Thou shouldn’t resist, and much to thy dislike;

Never return!” Roared on the chieftain in his battle attire.

“I beg thee, for Eleanore’s sake, before you make me all but tire

Out on this forsaken day! We must make ways before the ghostlike

And cursed shadows; escape south!” Then gave his steed’s sides a heel strike.

XIX.

The world suddenly began filling with the sounds of turmoil

That had been there all along. Noises from the burning dwellings,

Shapes moving in the shadows. Smoke rising from the surrounding

Hills, from which calling horns bellowed and footsteps shook the soil

Itself as soldiers mustered. The exodus had begun.

As the two passed through the broken-down city gates, they both were stunned

At the sight of the dying city of Wir Byhor. It had been despoiled

Of joy and of flow, and all that was left was in war embroiled.

XX.

The crackling of other hooves began to draw nearer and nearer,

And though hard to make out from the commotion, Ríona could see

The man approaching them from the side would clearly be

Her father’s second, his right-hand man. In gloom was the bearer

Of horrid news. But in that moment, the voice she heard so often

From within, came forth from the echoing in an attempt to soften

The heavy toll of panic that she had endured in this horror.

She closed her eyes, focused herself onto it and heard clearer.

XXI.

“There lies sorrow in thy heart, friend; but thou must worry not,

Moreover, thou should’st give into my calming murmuring.

Trust me as I speak – these words that hold much truth; thy heart forbearing:

For now, thine only strength. Now, gather thy grit, be not by dread fraught

And gaze into the Lion’s maw – and gaze towards the valley

In which thy people’s best last stand will be: their grand finale!

Only then wilt thou understand and know it wasn’t for naught!

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And finally, when grow’st thee strong, thou wilt stop the cruel onslaught!”

XXII.

With passion did Aurianne beseech her host of vigour.

Attempting to pierce through the cacophonous cries of helpless

Souls who were still trapped inside crumbling buildings. Though restless,

Ríona was not afraid; and others might’ve perceived her rigor

As shock. Even the Goddess would fail when trying to predict

How the child would react to her surroundings. Instead, a conflict

Inside her mind grew from the echoes, an anger that could trigger

Further destruction, and the Queen her words would reconsider.

XXIII.

But then, not soon enough, her father – the chief had jolted

His horses’ sides again, and it answered with a dash.

Every one of her previous thoughts now muddled and mashed,

And her rage that had built up dissipated as if it had moulted

Away like old feathers. The other rider would only follow

For a while longer, resuming down the valley with no bravado,

But a still air about him, as he joined up with his men devoted.

Then the steed rushed up the crest of the hill as if it floated.

XXIV.

It didn’t take long till they were approaching the summit’s peak

And a grand vista opened afore: A valley brimming

With figures both foul and pure. The Byhoran last stand was forming.

A champion then rode before their ranks and chose to speak.

The chief pointed t’wards him and cast an ethereal plea:

“One day thou shalt stand in those heavy boots and victorious be!”

He ran his fingers through her golden hair with a touch so meek,

“As for him… As for them…” his voice trailed off into a murmur weak.

XXV.

His gaze locked on his troops. “Forever as heroes that they are,

By our people recalled!” Melancholy brimmed eyes spoke thousand a word.

Raising his hand, and rolling his sleeves to uncover notches begird

Along his arms. He pulled out a dirk and began to carve scars,

And cut in a few notches alongside half-a-hundred more.

“This our tradition be; child, it’s how we live!” he swore,

Then showed his bleeding cuts to Ríona. “For every one mar

A man was lost today, each: a hero – lost thus far!”

XXVI.

His sacrificial lamb waited in the mouth of the valley

As shambling figures gathered from the hillsides surrounding,

The chief grimaced: “Southward we embark, escape this abounding

Damnation that hunts us; and upon reaching those shores – we rally!”

“To honour our Tribe Mothers, glory to thy names!” he shouted

As a tear began to rush down his cheek. Their sacrifice showed undoubted

Valour, which he himself could not partake in. He would carry

The burden’s heavy toll to his death, e’er marked by his tally!

XXVII.

With a jerking motion, Audar turned his stallion and the two

Joined up with a caravan of souls lost, scattered, and afraid.

Beginning their harsh journey t’wards the south, the Chieftain prayed

For their safe passage. Then Ríona felt a firmness grew

On her shoulder, as her father’s hand pressed down onto it

As if a form of punishment: “For thee it would befit

To listen to my words and listen well, or thou may rue

The day when I am gone.” She felt a scolding would ensue.

XXVIII.

“My heart sunk deep into my chest when I thought I had thee lost!

To disappear, so quick, without a trace, without a hitch,

And hide so deftly beneath the stars; concerns me of that Witch

Sharing thy flesh. What foolish rebellious thoughts has she tossed

Into thy mind? I spent hours and hours on end

In search of thee, all while I could not my people defend!

A nightmare eked out my mind’s depth, a fear that brought in frost,

A thought of losing thee, by Gods! A line which shan’t be crossed!”