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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1660826-As-the-Dawn-Light-Dims---part-2
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by Reever Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1660826
The search continues...
Who would have guessed that a god is hard to find?
At the rate of Darke's search he might as well have been blind.

Long forsaken by his own people,
He laments the many sages that would greatly aid him.

With his last eight followers searching the land
There truly is not a single other soul willing to lend a hand.

Myran Koren, Darke's most well known friend
Seeks a sage in the west said to be the best with ink and page.
Unknown and alone he has been for ages, many say he learns well from clever mages.
Myran hopes this great sage will not spell his end.

While in the east Fara-nai Morais resides
Who can easily be described as Darke's cutie-pie.
A warm tease she may seem, but no man sees what she really seeks.
Great lords have thus far handed her more than they ever would willingly from their hoards.

In the south Grei Mountains Cai Reavin climbs.
Misfortune has found Darke's own little sister
In the form of a family of theiving winged lizards.
She curses and swipes but is fooled each time, hoping with each foot to not take a dive.

White winds stinging as much as fire, the mighty northland often wins over the best.
A copse of frozen corpses or a pack of savage hounds,
Nodaru Miasma knows well what lay beyond these bounds.
He always did so hate taking tests...

As the tribes and cities broiled in tumult, Darke and his band were often the blame.
While his actions resembled that of a bloodthirsty cult, his methods were certainly not so lame.

At this moment in time Darke reverently stood, reading ancient text over a priest he had slain.
The Evening Wind Forest was a forgotten and forlorn wood, so the temple he had just toppled brought him no pain.

His eyes widened at the revelations he'd found.
So much that he wondered, could the information be sound?

The old writings mention two great rivers, each named after the gods that he would soon deliver.
Desya, the blue river from the north, life-giver, and Krynn, the red river from the south, deceiver.

Where the two meet, there is a cave.
Not quite large enough to believe, but one that was surely made.

A final note at the base of the tome warned of a path that was not the way home.
Horrors and shadows and things of the past return with haste to make your first breath here your last

Darke thought for a second and cocked his head.
Is this a place he would really want to see?
"What would I rather be doing instead?"
Ha! But of course slaying dragons and shaping history.

Darke "Havoc" Aerolamoria Ravous drew his dark scepter and pointed it to the sky.
A cone of utter blackness spread wide and nearly reached the sun on high.

To his allies that could not see the column of smoke,
They surely felt the calling and knew it was no joke.

Darra Halonai was in mid-swing, holding his mace over a fretful thing.
The highwayman had tried his trade, but today would not bring him his intended pay.
A sudden jolt caused for a glancing blow, and Darra knew Darke needed him to go.
With a scoff to the crumpled man and a call to his mount, Darra was in for a much more intersting day.

In a bar on an alley in a city by the ocean
Bourdra Cloui-dai waited impatiently for the walls to set in motion.
The hours he had waited were double that of his drinks and he was glad that they were strong.
An unintended sensation struck him then, a cause for his absence to not be so wrong.

Balancing delicately on the thinning bough of a thonia tree,
Coiserra Linnroe would leave only if somehow Hell had come to be.
She reached out and stretched for the elusive and rare flower
Only to nearly wretch as she felt Darke's unholy power.

Dressed in deceit and dancing with the overseer's daughter,
Sleight-of-hand could only win so much to what a father could foster.
Amorai Evum had played his cards well and soon would know secrets often unfelt.
As his momentum went south he promised not to dwell, he was sure that Darke had much more to tell.

The Evening Wind Forest took on its hallowed name as the dusk flitted away.
Twilit trees sang a soothing song that soared through Darke's soul, carrying him astray.

A shy cresent moon finally showed its light, turning twisting shadows to share with the night.
If ever a more perfect serenity entered Darke's life, he would know all of existence to be no more than a lie.
© Copyright 2010 Reever (reeveroverseer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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