The Mistwraith's Curse

For five centuries long the skies always were grey,
no stars seen at night and no sun during day.
The world of Athera, by Mistwraith was bound,
‘till a prophesy answer could be found.

Two enemy princes, to exile were flung,
half brothers by blood, yet to hatred they clung.
They had to unite so the world could be freed;
they pushed back their hatred so they could succeed.

The Master of Shadows was the prince Arithon.
His brother Lysaer had the gift of the dawn.
The Lord of the Light was what he was named;
by joining their gifts, the mist could be tamed.

The Fellowship of Seven gave aid to the brawl,
with sorcerous help, the Mistwraith did fall.
But during the battle, the sorcerers did find,
that one of the wraiths entered Lysaer’s neat mind.

‘Twas dormant for days, so they entered the town
where Arithon was to acquire the crown.
He was their high king, by royal blood right,
they wanted no king so they put up a fight.

Sunny and clear was Coronation Day,
but the wraith sent Lysaer’s friendship away.
Consumed by the wraith-sent hate that he felt,
his brother he turned on and a blow he dealt.

His light battled dark in the midst of the square,
and a geas from the wraith hit Arithon there.
Now he did hate, though less than his kin,
yet still he loathed to take life to win.

He changed the day into blackest of nights,
and commanded his shadows to cover his flight.
Bone weary from magic, he went as fast as he could,
away from the city to hide in the wood.


The clan in that area saw that he was the heir,
and after hearing his story began to prepare.
For through all the centuries, loyal were they,
all the townsmen they hated and wanted to slay.

When Arithon told how his brother did hate,
the clansmen agreed they would retaliate.
They promised their prince that they would help fight,
they’d help him defend against the city’s might.

Lysaer’s army was great, and Arithon’s small,
yet clansmen did promise that they’d give their all.
They planned to outwit the army with tricks,
so to try to avoid many armed conflicts.

The city was ready, the army set out,
they sent men ahead in order to scout.
One returned with good news, “There are children ahead!
Let’s follow them and see where we’re led.”

Lysaer agreed and he and some troops
chased after the children to be led to their group.
But clansmen were ready, as they closed the gap,
they made sure children were safe and then sprung the trap.

From all sides of the valley the water poured down,
many died from the force, and others did drown.
When waters were calm, very few were alive,
and clansmen were shooting the few who survived.

Yet Lysaer escaped, the battle began,
the army discovered the girls of the clan.
Showing no mercy, they vented their hate,
and Arithon found that he got there too late.

The clan leader’s son they needed to guard,
and Arithon’s men fought very hard.
Yet the cost of their vict’ry was bitterly high,
as many a man did fall there to die.

The battle twixt brothers inevit’ bly came,
and sorcery tore through the skies like flame.
In order to protect the clan leader’s child,
the prince of the clans let his shadows run wild.

Defeated at last, Lysaer’s army did flee,
but the clan did not celebrate their victory.
All women were dead, most children were killed,
The clansmen agreed too much blood had been spilled.

When Arithon woke he asked, “How many died?
And hearing the answer he sorrow’fly cried,
“Oh Lysaer, my brother why did this occur?
Why can’t we be friends, like we once were?”

The clan leader’s son stood wracked with grief,
his father was dead and he now was chief.
The prince of the clans rose and went to his side,
he said to the boy, “Your father should not have died.”

“I feel I must go, for if it wasn’t for me,
all the clansmen who died, here would still be.
I can’t risk the lives of the rest of the clan,
I’ll go off on my own and risk no other man.”

The Master of Shadows, the prince Arithon,
took leave from the clans and soon he was gone.
His brother Lysaer, the Lord of the Light,
still swore he would kill, and make all things ‘right.’