Spirit of man

[lanfykins.livejournal.com]

A hundred years after the Time of Heroes, nothing remained of the world they had tried to save. The Memory Keepers were buried deep in their fastness, all their energies turned to staying safe from those who sought to crack open their citadel. The Winter Witch was little more than a legend almost as fearsome as those she fought. The Sunchild was always heard of elsewhere, never here. All around the globe, the feeble lights flickered, and began to go out.

All that remained now of the prophecy for which the Nine Heroes had died was a piece of garbled doggerel, an inane nursery rhyme.

Keep the torch burning bright, keep it burning
Keep the torch burning bright, I pray
Keep the torch burning bright, keep it burning
Keep it burning till the break of day

Sing hosanna
Sing hosanna
Sing hosanna to the King To Come
Sing hosanna
Sing hosanna
Sing hosanna to the King.

Keep the memories safe, keep me hoping
Keep the memories safe, I pray
Keep the memories safe, keep me hoping
Keep me hoping till the break of day

Keep the sword in the tree, keep me fighting
Keep the sword in the tree, I pray
Keep the sword in the tree, keep me fighting
Keep me fighting till the break of day

Over the thousand years of darkness, sixty thousand men, women and children were sent to the fires for singing that song.

Three thousand of them were still singing it as they died.

Comments

[isalani.livejournal.com]

a 1000 years is about right to clean up that ball of power nicked and put it somewhere useful.

A island of hope is a nice starting place.