Awareness blooms in my consciousness like petals who receive the sun’s love; it is the blossom of spread-legged penitence and spread-eagle sentience. My mood swings polygamously, pendulous with sanity, and turbulent with baited expectation. A darkness plagues, cancerously, with the phantasmagorical locust’s insatiable appetite. The swarm encroaches. Drifting death on the drones of doom. I am Creeping Death.
Dark Tyvernos respires within me as I draw his last breath:
My silence speaks louder than words,
A quiet resistance goes unheard
Actions are futile undone
How can you un-love someone?
A partitioned portion of my mind,
Cut away and left to die…
Farewell is never a wasted goodbye for inscrutable character and indomitable resolve. The body cannot live without the mind.
You will be the first to happen upon and read this. Know that your son loved you in life as he does, even now, in death. A maternal bond – intimate from the time of infancy – grew as if in your own elven womb. Know that his only endeavor was to hold your admiration and swell your pride. His whimsical nature, a product of your own, natured and lovingly nurtured. He knew beyond the shadow of any doubts that your love for him was unconditional and that he always had a place in your heart. Tyvernos will move onward in peace and prays that you will too. Regrettably, he could not be here to say goodbye.
You had your reservations. From the very beginning you held to your differences. You showed your acceptance to the gnome with tutelage and undertook the prodigious youth as a mentor. Your teachings have enabled me to be the man I am today. You have my gratitude. With the tools I now have at my disposal and your power to aspire to it is only a matter of time until I surpass even you. After all, what walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening? You, father, are walking on three legs and it is the evening of your day. Dawn of my new day…
The thoughts from yesterday forgotten
I like the way this new skin feels
Bring me splinters of tomorrow
Collect the parts where I win
Against the grain
Against the odds
I’ll rise and I won’t trip again
The dawn of a new day never looked
As good as this
Dear old dog. The Bismarck Incarnate. Bennu’s final betrayal. I know that Tyvernos will miss the fur-flying, poo-flinging antics. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Your loyalty was rewarded with his. That you channeled the divine is of little concern – though it speaks to your character. I shall keep the Finger for when we meet again…in this life or the next. Dark Tyvernos will gladly have you, once again, as pillow, mount, and companion. He, however, urges you to practice your Dragonese until it is passable. A brandy-burnished cavity will slosh forever within the confines of his heart’s chamber. May you be at peace in your passing and forever keep the Winds at your back. Elemental air knows its kindred spirit.
Ride the lightning,
Written by Tyvernos on the 12th of Thoth, in the 68th Year of the Wolfen Empire.
Picture from Naravox.