Desenio

All Fires Eventually Burn Out (Dec 4 and 5)

Shoreditchpoet

--

Drew sat contemplating his experience on the moon. Had he really left Elthenia through a shaft of moonlight? Unconsciously, Drew shivered as he watched Longshanks stretching close to the singing Lapis stone. It was now snowing heavily again, and the giant stag shook the snow from his antlers, some of it hitting Drew in the face. “Braagh,” exhaled Longshanks comically.

“Is that a laugh?” Said Drew, himself smiling as he removed the snow from his face and hair. Suddenly Drew became aware of the cold and looked to where the fire usually was. “Longshanks, if Ive only been gone 5 minutes as you suggest, how comes the fire is covered with snow?” Then, noticing what appeared to be stripes on the other side of Longshanks, Drew leapt up and raced over to the stag. “What happened to you Longshanks?”

The marks were bad scars from enormous claw marks, yet they looked fully healed. Longshanks appeared bemused by the scars. “I don’t recall those being there,” said the Stag. “They look like deadly wounds, not the kind of wounds one forgets easily,” he said, trying to remember how he had received the recent looking scars. “I don’t feel weak, as I undoubtably would if I had recently been attacked in such a horrific way. In fact, I feel good. Better than ever. Although…”

“Although what?” Drew insisted.

“I do seem to have forgotten why I am here; and how long I have been…” Longshanks trailed off and fell silent along with Drew as their eyes detected

a large mound of snow beyond the Lapis stone. They walked towards it warily and, on their approach, could clearly see the frozen body of the giant wolf Galvistad. Drew instinctively stepped back, a bolt of fear appearing to physically push him. “Great Lord Boden!” He said aloud.

Longshanks moved closer and looked upon the corpse of the wolf, or at least parts not yet covered with the continuing snowfall.

Some minutes passed without a word being spoken. The E chord, seeming dulled slightly by the snow still nonetheless purred beneath the now turquoise light of its aura.

“Do you not remember anything?” Drew finally asked Longshanks.

“Yes,” replied the stag, as if awakening from a long sleep and gradually recognising once…

--

--

Shoreditchpoet

Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM