The Dirge Of Pryderi and the Elves

I: One will come of great might

By Asfalodd the blessed stream
In a morn still shrouded by rising steam
Scarce pierced by sun’s gilded beams
-Here is birthed Pryderi

Of two kindreds; cursed and blessed
Here he takes his first air to breast
And his first and final rest
-Before hoisting the weight he must carry

Then fast ready he is made
As the dusky twilight begins to fade
Condemned to loneliness to be spared the blade
-that falls fast upon the accursed unwary

Delivered to the hands of Asfalodd white
And rushed away ere the failing of night
Borne to longer days and greater fights
- while his mother accepts his fatal penalty

Then with thunder, the hills are riven
And laid to rest are the dead, unshriven,
And the child is borne on a wicker divan
- into the arms of prophecy

II: Born of the shade and of the light

On the shores of Asfalodd, Derek stands
Looking over the green farm lands
That he and kin and ken command
- under the mountains majesty

Then from yon swift flowing stream
Its stormy waters as white as cream
A cry rises to break his waking dream
- in all its woeful tragedy 

It is Pryderi; who fast did run
From the shaded mounts to lands of sun
Upon Asfalodd, first pearl, now dun
- rampant in her vanity   

Upon the waves the babe is borne
From deepest night to gilded morn
His cry a sounding funeral horn
- for the one who bore his penalty

Now to the water, brave Derek leaps
To be swallowed fast by the raging deeps
Swimming to where the babe laments and weeps
- and delivering him in glorious chivalry

III: Delivered from a watery grave

In his arms he holds the child
And wades to safety from the river wild
And in that kindness is defiled,
- by the curse of the ancient prophecy

Still innocent of guilt or fear
He dries the babe and holds him near
Making a boat of what may have been a bier
- by saving Pryderi from fate’s knavery

Delivering Pryderi from death to life
Derek takes him to his loving wife
Not understanding the woe or strife
- he brings to precious Waverly

Her heart at once is wholly riven
To this foundling prince, wholly given
A mother’s love, a hell and heaven
-Are given in a moment’s majesty

Thus to safe arms Pryderi is brought
And the lessons of life by gentle hands taught
The mountains’ shadow to be soon forgot
- in the blessed river valleys

IV: To shake the thrones of the brave

In the valleys of boundless green
Kissed by the nimble fairy queen
Beneath the sunbeams sharp and keen
Pryderi grows in glory

From babe he grows to handsome youth
From youth to man of might and truth
Kind and gentle and never aloof
- and versed in lore and story

Strong of arm and great in might
With hair shining gilded in the light
And eyes as dark as the raven night
- in the starlight gleaming hoary

Across the plains he ran tall
Amidst the fields’ shifting grassy pall
Before the fast approaching fall
- long foretold in prophecy

A man of conscience and glory
Long spoken of in verse and story
Strong in the charge and foray
- and great in chivalry

V: To Summon War to a Peaceful Land

In the mountains, tall and shaded
Amidst the stone spires; tall and bladed
Where light and sun have long since faded
- awoken is Pryderi’s ancestry

The cursed half of kin and ken
Awakened from their twilight den
Making mount and stream tremble when
- the dark elves emerge in majesty

Then in the mountains, clouded and dark
The white elves wake from shadowed ark
Seeking the one who bears the mark
- of undesired prophecy

The two races, cursed and blessed
Awakening from their years’ long rest
And bringing fire and smoke to cloud the west
- sprung from their war for mastery

Then comes to the valleys, day and night
Both questing for Pryderi’s might
The Dark to claim and win the fight
- the white to destroy

VI: And crush the world in his hand

In distant years, a promise made
Each elf destroyed by his own blade
Their fall to come, their might to fade
- slain by one like Pryderi

So the white comes to destroy
This one born of a union of illicit joy
To, with their blades, destroy the ploy
- so long woven by prophecy

And of the shadow comes Pryderi’s father
With might and power like no other
To claim his son from the fairer brother
- whose goal is to destroy

To avenge the hurt done his heart
When his lover’s heart was rent apart
And her soul forced to depart
- for bearing brave Pryderi

Upon the valley they fast converge
Intents apart as pathways merge
And at their meeting, they come to the verge
- of awakening their tragedy

VII: Of humble upbringing, by war made anew

To Derek’s house they fly with haste
With neither time to tarry or breath to waste
And the flavor of blood is all they taste
- as they scent the approach of prophecy

Then in a circle, they are fast arrayed
Each elf armed with bow and blade
Facing each other as the moonbeams fade
- faces uncertain and wary

Then Pryderi’s true father stands forth
Hair gleaming as white as the snows of the north
Flesh like the damp earth, tawny and swart
- eyes shining shaded and hoary

His intent to defend the son of his blood
Against the White Elves encroaching flood
To fight and fall to death in the mud
- for his son, brave Pryderi

Now sword is bared, now arrow drawn
And falls the king, and falls the pawn
And red blood drowns the golden dawn
- and fallen is mystic Elvin glory

VIII: Then stolen away from all he once knew

So falls Pryderi’s life-giver
Falling dead to the earth with a shiver
Broken sword and emptied quiver
- cleaving to him valiantly

Then falls also Derek the brave
Sent by the arrow to an early grave
Falling with a cleaver and stave
- to defend his fair Waverly

Now crumbles the prince of the White
And still more victims of an unjust fight
Their bodies resolving to mist in the night
- unlamented for their fatal chivalry

So is the prophecy made half complete
So flee now the Dark elves in gloomy defeat
Their King fallen; a route, their retreat
- and they robbed of all their glory

But even as the White comes across the lawn
His plight is revealed by oncoming dawn
His son is fallen, his prey is gone
- the dark elves have taken Pryderi

IX: To sit upon the throne, a dark king

In elvenhome, in mountains deep
Pryderi sits in an elvish keep
And though it is for the fallen he weeps
- deeper runs his tragedy

For he is made a Dark Elf King
And his coronation song, his people sing
Anointing him with oil, bestowing the royal ring
- and deepening the hold of prophecy

To a new path he is bound
Hastened back to elvish ground
And for him, the war horns sound
- calling for blood and glory

Now rush the steeds to battle driven
Now flesh and shield and sword are riven
And again the dead are laid unshriven
- upon the mountains’ majesty

Now falls into ruin fair elvenhome
Beneath the dark sky’s spiraling dome
And white and black fall to the loam
- and to the wrath of prophecy

X: His touch destroying everything

So fell Elvenkind long ago
In the mountains where shadows grow
And in the green vales far below
- forgotten is their majesty

By Pryderi’s hand, they passed away
Both White and Black, and lonely gray
And empty stands each hall and way
- where once they dwelled; happily

Now silent are the hills and dells
And emptied the war-torn fells
Cleared is each wood, stream, and well
- of tragic elvish glory

For prophecy’s sake they passed away
Calling down what they sought to stay
By their own blades they passed away
- where none can follow swiftly

So passed away the day and night
So fell to shadow the shade and light
But which, I ask, justly fought the fight
- and was the shade truly darkness?