1. CROW AND HOOVES, LIGHTNINGSDOME - PT.1

(Upon our earthly plain of green, a flickering passing of
Light, then silence, seemingly everlasting silence.
Has it Come?)

Transcend...the dawn...

Arriving north cold white snow wind...

My fingers tremble, not the cold but their wish, frightful
In fear, can I use as I used to?

"Resounding sound of wizardry...upon the white my sign of
Life, a mighty blow towards the skies, all that matter
Have heard my return.

Walk towards the south, journey long in this cold outside,
The burning darklight beats me, the Flame of Chaos and
Order, head for the lightningsdome, the Weiliaon waits."

A streak of wood upon the unrelial road, (a crow)
Its Glittering glance looking my way...

[The Crow:]
"If it were my own choice, I would not be here,
Wise traveller, for my ears enjoy the clinging of the
Swords (more), and the quiet afterwards...where another
Feast awaits."

[Nirion:]
"What brings you to this desolationscape (then)?
Is it premonnition of doom, or do you bring wise advise so
That I may outlive myself again?"

[The Crow:]
"Kraa, no, none of those, I bring thee a
Reminder of what has been told afore, thine destiny
Concerns us all, and the message I bear comes from the
Kizara of H'hen, he bids thee to live in peace and not to
Cut the festers and unhealed sores of our world open with
Thine mighty sword. For the gore that will drip when thee
Doth so, is too porfull for even thine mighty sword to
Master. And I know that I for me have no special bond,
I Return no message, nor do I consent with his.
I deliver, And that is all I do."

[Nirion:]
"(Ah) raven of black eloquence, your tongue be
Filled with deceit and that I enjoy, return to thine
Beloved battlefields and know for settling of the mind
That I shall continue my path as planned.
"And I have good and bad announcings for thee.
Yes, there Will be battlefields plenty in my plans,
But the flesh I Shall litter upon them shall be
The putrid flesh of Warmongring assassins..."

[The Crow:]
"All cannot be well, (kraaa) goodbye wise Traveller, and fare thee as all should be."

The crow flies into the startling snowy whirlwinds, and Vanishes into the blackwhite...

(A never impartial intermezzo:
Sleeplow mind, quiet and dark, a universal
Plaguemonger. Set your steps right,
Weiliaonwielder, for many would wish you back from whence
You came...Pity upon you,
For there is no from-whence-you-came left.

Poor disrooted wretch, your past too hoorid
To cherish, your future too uncertain to look
Forward to.

And yet, a mystic glimpse in your eyes that vanishes
Whenever I look at it.

Hurry, hurry, for traced you are.
And none will flourish From an early confrontation.


2. CROW AND HOOVES, LIGHTNINGSDOME - PT.2

"Puzzling, the Kizara wishes to interfere with my plans,
How can he be fit in the vile works of the fallen? Many
Things have changed since I left.
Time has come for me to Learn more.
But first, the darkening of the day forces me
To beseech rest."

A cavern...magic...stone to wood...fire...

"A presence I sense coming, prepare for battle, lightning
Blue in my hands."

A large caped man appears,
(my hands lower and a smile Crosses my face...)

"When ye think of the devil, he himself appears untailed,
As if to cut the last threads to the world I have left.
Ironic...but nevertheless, Hail to thee, proudest of
Compag-nons, for ages I have longed to hear your humorous
Words again."

"Hail to thee, Nirion, ye speak in strange tongue, tis as
Rolling thunder, uneleganced, as yet still yet true nature
Ranges aloft, as 'ere yer past lyeth far buried...
Wellcome To our world, or call it yer world, if yer plans remain
And they should..."

("Hah, thine mispraise for the Fallen doth ring right, and
I agree, they've misused thine name for ages, pushing all
Men's mischief in thine hands, and then blaming thee of
The irrevocable errors. If thou were to be evil, the
Worlds would have been depopulated the first day in time.")

"Ah t'is right, yer words may sooth my soul.
(I am no more Evil than the laundry any peasants wife
Bleaches in the Stream.)
Its mine mystery that man has come to fear..."

The Nirion turns away and looks into the night outside
The cavern
"Canst though bring me to the lightningsdome?"

A quick wink and a fastly sharp answer:
"Be sure t'is within my power, my friend."

The big man smiles, then turns around, seems to enlarge
And utters:
"Ere the Hooves of thunder, yer Lord doth call."

Blasting thunderous sounds...

"Let the night forever be young, for the
Lightningsdome we Ride..."


3. ARCANE CHURNING YEARNING

Ride, ride, a swirl of darkened blue.
The two reach the Lightningsdome.
Quickly the Weiliaon is retracted from the
Amber runes, its force having grown for thousands of years
No words sufficient to describe the reunition, so
None will we waste.
The Nirion and the Lucifer separate
And the Wielder departs for the Rainplains.
Resuscitating The Tricorn, reborn in white.
The Ancient Trinity is as One again.
The Wielder sets his path towards the Caverns Of Carving...

Deep in the earth...

"Dwarves of the Cavern of Carving, I am here for thee to
Pay your debts to me, if all is remembered..."

"Arrogant, what else to expect...we do not forgive so
Easily as man does, warrior, so do not insult us."

"An admonition or a threat, I see none in my words and
I See many in yours.
How long will the carving take, if I May ask?"

"You may, twelve nights and one day if you can bear the
Burder of the dead upon your chest, which I doubt not."

"Swift as an arrow you speed from insult to compliment,
Let us start the work, no time loss can I afford..."

"Huh, three followed you, they now weigh more than they
Used to the weight of a dwarven axe between their
Shoulderblades, so we have all the time we need.

Screams, screams, screams...

Arcane churning yearning

Like drowning in a wishing well, the ultimate power, the
Ultimost unity, let us combine this with ultimate strife
And ultimate love for all that lives, and the black
Revulsion for those with backward mind...

An intermezzo disfilled with equivalent rash glory:

"T'would be too easy, bereft of common cold sense, are ya?
Allow, you frivolous featherhead, like a light'o'love you
Fool with vital spirits, embracing the gods of death as You do..."


4. NIOBILATIKA

Elated with joy, radiant with energy but famishing for
Company...the Nirion stumbles from the Caverns, leaving
The Dwarves at their endless tasks, and mounts the
Tricorn, setting his path towards Niobilatika, the
Greatest of cities...

Squivering shivering the taste of return, approach the
Greatest of cities from the West, over the Astonisher "do
Always come from the West my friends, 'tis where the
Angels are born"

I stood and watched its splendeur gazing back at me, the
Dawn over Niobilatika, a return to the roots of glory...

On the threshold to illumination, unnamable its grand
Appeal...

The Nirion descends from the Astonisher cliff...

And commences his stroll towards the city walls, and
Around him he sees others doing the same thing, peasants,
Merchants, all in search of anything Niobilatika offers
Them to fulfill their wants...

Entering the city, the Nirion soon flood with the flow of
People who enter the city...But whilst most of the
Travelers pass in anonimity...the white tricorn with the
Warrior upon it soon attracts the attention of many...very
Soon the murmur has altered to a loud wriggle of
Voices...as some plunge into their knowledge of legend to
Recognize the sheathed sword and the lightlusting Tricorn,
And upon it the caped man, although bodily not a warrior
At first sight, a man with the gaze of a warrior and the
Glow of victory. Soon a crowd of thousands follows the
Eerie horseman...and the road clears ahead of him, leaving
His direction empty.

And then a young lad doesn't clear the way, and stays in
The Nirion's path...the young man, shyly but firmly:

"What is thy name, mighty he who wields both the ancient
Sword and the newborn tricorn? Word spreads swift within
The walls of the City of Golden Ice and Silversworded
Heroes, and the tongues speak of a Return expected and
Hoped for but declined by the Unbelievers too many times.
The many tongues speak of the darklightborne...
We are in need of him, if thou art who he is, relieve us
From the sweet sufferance of expectation."

"Well said, young man, in the well spoken word do we
Recognize the forger of diplomacy and in the firmly spoken
Word must we catch a glimpse of the strong at heart.
I Used to be the One you expect, who
I am now is for all of You to judge."

"Then come, mighty One, the City Council await you..."


5. THE SPRINKLING SNARL OF MY RASHIVING BLADE

The knight: "You quick soldier, your sword halfly as fast
As your reputation, would heaven up my amazement.
But 'tis Not so, is it?"

"Tis with plague in mine smile that I come to mellow thine
Disenchanting style"

The elders' faces clear with expectation's gratitude for
The coming display of Words...

"Insult me not, ye verse monger, a sneer for your
Smothered cowardice."

The Nirion sighs sorrowfully, looks up melancholously and
Utters silently: "an end to this befouling." and
Melancholy turns to glooming fiery rage in the now dark
Eyes of the Wielder, a recoil on the other side of the
Room as the youth feels the bundling of force, the
Beholder's arms raise and with a mighty magician's thump,
The knight is flung to the wall.

The darklightborne swiftly speaks:
"Stronghold we our children in emotion and wisdom, as the
Old cock crows, the young ones learn, and forgive we his
Youth, as even now I envy his youth as well as his revolt."

But enthralled in the corner lies the youth with burning
Eyes, and open as his mind now is to any means to erase
The humilations done, and probably unintended by the
Darklightborne, he unknowingly lets
The Many Who Know The Return And Wish To Halt It Now in.

Suddenly a ghastly sigh resounds as the darker take over
His mind, the knight hops up, his eyes gazing intensely at
The Swordscarrier, and he unleashes a bolt of pure
Incentive madness at the Nirion, who is now lifted from
The soil and recoils in surprise.

The youth, with a gravetrodeen voice, says:
"As a screech owl, I descend from the heavens to bring the
White scourge amongst your children, scrutinizing for any
And all uncorrumped life to waste, sitting on the
Holy See, the shepherd and his sheperdess estrangled.
Henceforth I am the Mendacious Meddler, the Provost of
Prostitution, the Prosecutor of Puerile Innocence.
Atrabilious be henceforth the Seers of Your destiny...

Perish now... (x4)

But mighty an enemy before him, over his initial surprise,
Bundles the dragondfiend defendspells, breaks the bondings
Of the Lifterspells and unleashes the ravashing Ti'Ak'Thi.

Half the spell's power is flushed through the mental gate
Towards the Darker who control the youth, a quarter of the
Power crushes the poor youth and another quarter tears
Through the castle walls...

As with any magician, having indefinate power to use, and
No experience for a very long time, an overcast spell...

But the Darker, unwilling to let slip so mighty an
Occasion, use the link now created to send in five Ta'Rish.

However, the Nirion for once and for all wishes to show
The very might he wields and unsheaths the Weiliaon, and
Gleaming in silverblue, the Chant of the Sword commences...

The room turns damp and dark as the soul of the Dead burnt
In the Nirion's chest come to life and as the Weiliaon
Turns red, the Nirion charges, a chaotic mixture of Undead,
Steel Weiliaon, materialized magic and flesh...

Twenty seconds later, the Ta'Rish are shattered...


6. BENEATH, IN HIS BENIGHTED DWELLINGS, THE PARAMOUNT SHRIEKS WITH LAUGHTER...

All your fucking looking up, all the contempt you hide in
Your melted-to-a-gentle-form addressingcodes...

Well, tis now wasted on me, the hypocrisy you cannot wipe
From your eyes disgusts me as much as I myself am
Disgusted by my own stupidity for believing this
Persiflage of an overevolved past...

Fight the gentle fight, risk your life for those who adore
You for risking your life for them, lousy bastards, to
Hell with it, to hell with you...

"Laugh now, shriek now, you won it all the way, Paramount,
You unreal makebelieve incarnation of all I did not wish
To stand for, I should have taken all the power ever
Invested in me and sent it back to the investors in the
Package of their own deceit and blown them all skyhigh,
Should've blown them all skyhigh, blow you all skyhigh,
blow you all skyhigh, Lousy bastards..."

"Hasth thou understood, weakling Nirion ass, I waited all
These years to see you come back and fuck yourself
Up...fully..."

In a million years I'll be known as the moron who saved
The world, and got dumped by it for being so stupid to
Save it...

Who the fuck wants to be saved anyway?

Below in his benighted dwelling the
Paramount shrieks with Laughter...


7. BE'ETH THE CLAIRVOYANT THE WHIRLER OF FATE

The blackened gypsy princess: "I know thee, thine
Beautiful and thine vile words I've heard, thine
Courageous deeds I have witnessed, and for the healing of
Thine wounds I've prayed.
Thine stubbling on the ways of Mortal life, thine
Persevering stubbornness, as the sword Vengeance rejected,
I was there to see your indecision. As Live was given and
Quickly stolen again, your vague Utterings, your longing
For anonimity, your desire for Someone with the power to
Absolve you of life itself. But Through thine desperation,
I beheld the purest of Creatures."

[Nirion:]
"You are too kind for my missteps, I cannot fuddle
All that has been."

"All that has been?? If thou doth wish to fuddle all that
Has been, then in thine pureness stupid thee art.
There Is more beauty in there than once there was in your
Entire Godlike endlessness.
You have made a choice ages ago, why Dost thou fear it...
Alone?
Yes. Powerfull?
Yes. Wise?
Yes. What is it then you wish more?

The winning cards are in thine hands, all of them.
Can't Thou deny that? I think not.
Then seize thine courage
And sword of life and death and make those of thine own
Race remember thee 'ere they roam.
Make the heavens Tremble and the hells fill."

Nirion: "Ahhh, sweet lady, you depict solitude as a
Winning card. I once used to think alike...an occulted
Whining omen of my downfall it was."

"T'is not what I said, gentlest of warriors, alone in the
Power that matters amidst the wrongly powered, a simple
Fiddle to solve. And you, of all, should never speak of
Downfall, you are a wingbeat away from the utmost victory."

"Hmmm, my eyes seem to be opening. The only giver of life,
A ravishing delight. So this is the choice you propose.
Knowledge suits only the server, a sumptuous knowledge in
Itself."

"Does this revelation amaze you?
The godman's vision must
Be clouded for he sees not the Imperishable Mystery within
His own self and all that surround him...let us rejoice,
As this time for once the order of things will not be
Reversed. If you make the right choice, and I pray you
Will."

[Nirion:]
"Hah, let your sweet voice mask your wisdom, and
Know my words, I cannot be the purest, as long as you
Live, and I need not be."

An intermezzo of the dawning delight and the darkest of
Depressions:
"Sought in the heavens, and found in the mind of a girl,
One of the many mysteries the lassies guard with their
Lives...never as sweet as aftertime."

And now, abloom his tree of life, once adjust by hate,
From the soils it rose, overtowering and glorious...

Some say that everyone is the architect of his own Fortune,
t'is simplistic and abashing, be your own
Architect and your palace will crumble.

For if one advice I may give to all who dream of a future
New, then it is this: Amalgamate your joy in life with
Your hope, acervate truth and fantasy, and your bark will
Be worse than your bite.

You will look as fragile as porcelain and your words as
Soft as silk will you utter,
All true will adore and love You.

But those who breed vile purposes and bedim the fruits of
Your labour, antlers of pure evilshed silver will tear
Them to shreds. Then you, sweet child of man, might ask to
Me if I, of all, live by my words...

My answer: "I am the Loner,
Ne'er someone to live for."

This is the end of Part One.


8. WHEN YOUR DEAR GOD FALLS TO PERISHMENT...

Living in the name of the god who failed to survive then,
When the day of reality had broken, the truth of existence
Was hidden to them, who praised him high...Dear god...

The god escaped to his tomb, all the enemies he
Encountered to him were but an erection of pain, he feared
For the first time in his life...dear god...

His power is broken, no more prayers for this god,
Emptiness calls for the believers of his word, the simple
Minds shall fade away...