Poems from The Corean Chronicles

Londi's child is fair of face.
Duadi's child knows his place.
Tridi's child is wise in years,
but Quattri's must conquer fears.
Quinti's daughter will prove strong,
while Sexdi's knows right from wrong.
Septi's child is free and giving,
but Octdi's will work hard in living.
Novdi's child must watch for woe,
while Decdi's child has far to go.

But the soarer's child praise the most,
for he will rout the sanders' host,
and raise the lost banners high
under the green and silver sky.

The collar, weaker than velvet or rope,
strangles souls by suffocating men's hope.

The Legacy of the Duarchy

What lies ahead in dawns, and dusks to come?
Can we trust the rising sun, the stars of night,
or will the ways of magic and of men
betray our heritage, sacred birthright?

That heritage, that legacy of old,
Duachial bequest to ages new
unseen by fair Elcien's sages bold
will grant power even the wisest rue…

The Legacy of the Duarchy ?

Then too, the lamial will rise, but once,
Where none yet will suspect, nor think to dare,
and his hidden strokes may kill aborning,
Duality of promises bright and fair…

The Legacy of the Duarchy ?

…The brave, the craven, those who do not care,
will all look back in awe, and fail to see,
whether rich, or poor, or young or old and frail,
what was, what is, and what is yet to be…

The Legacy of the Duarchy ?

In those ages, then, will rise a leader,
who would reclaim the glory of the past,
and more, as he would see it, in the sun,
to make sure the dual scepter will always last.

Proud towers rise to challenge sea and sky,
Green needles that capture the dullest eye,
and palaces and halls with columns strong and true
with glory, song, and pleasures of the few.

So seemly are those soaring spires
That few remember the fierce desires
and fewer still the price Acorus pays
for each alector's unending days.

Yet towers unseen in the higher chill,
hold ancients with a different will,
who also ask a price, more long delayed,
but still upon your living spirits laid.

Landers, which fate and bargain will you take?
Which deadly compromise is left to make?

Green towers rise against a setting sun,
proud monuments to choices ill-begun,
spare spires of eternal stone to stand
and long imprison spirits of the land.

Alectors' choices fell on friends and foes.
They struck with force, righteousness, and woes.
Heeded not good or grace when day was done,
and greater powers had turned stars and sun.