[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard

His feet moved without his volition down the trail as he led his horse through the swamp, searching for his betrothed. Merlocks had taken her. The bridel was in his left hand, the horse's plodding muffled in the damp soil. The plodding sound ceased. He no longer felt the bridle. He looked back. His horse was gone, bridle and all, and so was his hand. As he watched, his forearm was snatched by unseen claws, and was pulled away. More claws grabbed his elbow.

His mother leaned over his bed. "Peace, be at peace," came her mild, soft voice, quiet and reassuring. Her face changed and she was Marigold, smiling reassurance.

The swamp was gone, and he was on the open plain, two stout horses pulling the wain he rose in, and Leafa sat beside him, beaming, holding something to her breast in thick blankets.

Jorje

The big fire warmed him where he lay. This place smelled good and right. Jorje closed his eyes and sighed a deep, contented, full bellied sigh.

Scents all around! Woody trees and fresh grasses and cold water, a rabbit trail here, a gopher scent there. He was running and his master ran behind him, barking in that happy way the masters had. There was the Mother, standing by the river, watching him run, smiling. He had been running fast already; now he ran faster, fast as the wind, his tongue lolling, the wind flapping his ears. He could run all day.

Aeron

He walked down the swamp trail, looking for Gwyllion. She was nowhere to be found. He had been searching and searching. Finally he stopped and hung his head in despair. "Gwyllion, where are you?" He raised his head and called. "Gwyllion! Where are you? Where have you gone? Don't leave me!"

A breeze stirred the misty air, and a shadow passed before him. He looked. It was her! She was walking away from him on a pond, her back to him; her feet did not disturb the water. He could see the mist through her, stirring in the breeze. She stopped and looked back.

"Come."

"I can't! I'll fall in and drown!"

She said nothing more, turned, and continued walking away.

"Gwyllionnnn!"

"Come," he heard, as a distant echo on the wind. He looked at the pond and saw his own reflection there.

"I will join her," he said, and stepped into the water. The swamp changed, and he was in a meadow, surrounded by trees, whose leaves whispered in the warm breeze. Two women sat on the grass in the middle of the meadow. Gwyllion stood beside him. She seemed so real!

"Go to them," she said. He reached out to touch her instead. She disappeared.


"No!"