Lost to the Dark

(Somewhen … Squire Bluffs)

“Must you go?”, she asks, her eyes speaking more than the words could say.
He nods, and turns to leave.

Glancing back over his shoulder he looks her in the eyes and moves his hands ever so slightly. With a haunted look in his eyes, almost pleading, his image fades in front of her and he is gone.

Now she can weep.

 

With twinkling eyes he smiles and speaks.
I listen, or appear to be,
and return the smile he gave to me.

“He’s a Man!”, a small voice inside me warns.
It is too late, my elven blood already glows,
my fate is linked to this Man, I know.

With actions speaking loud and clear,
Never apart, he journeys at my side,
teaching me gently to be wise.

Am I enchanted?
If anyone had the skill, it would be he.
…and I can think of worse things to be!

How old is he? Where did he come from?
Age is nothing to me, and he looks young,
but accomplishes magic no one has ever done.

Is he enchanted?
Certainly not by me-I know nothing of magic.
I follow the ways of the gods, as a cleric

I watched as he did many things
that enriched the very world which you see.
I blush to think he did them for me.

His eyes were twinkling
the first time he took my hand,
and gently led me around the land.

There were many things left unsaid
as his first gentle kiss
shared my lips.

During stolen moments from other tasks,
he would weave stories and I would laugh.
The days would lengthen sometimes by a day and a half.

Everyone wanted to be near him.
Yet he chose me.
Why is still a mystery.

I ask again, Am I enchanted?
I cannot tell if I am.
and if I cannot, who can?

He told no-one of the job he must do,
and journeyed to lands afar,
holding the task up like a star.

A hero to the world,
and they would never know
his success or failure against the foe.

But I know.
and every breath I take
reminds me of his fate.

Generations will never know
The price he paid
and the debt upon him laid.

I remember all these things at our parting.
The many times of joy and magical whim
will get me through the futures without him.

 

“Must you go?”, she asks, her eyes speaking more than the words could say.
Merlin nods, and turns to leave.

Glancing back over his shoulder Merlin looks her in the eyes and moves his hands ever so slightly, out towards her. With a haunted look in his eyes, almost pleading, the image of Merlin fades in front of her and he is gone.

Now she weeps.

 

::circa 1988

GSBardess Past

Author: GSBardess Past

She contributes from her retirement to share memories of GS3 and GS2 with us.

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