LITMIR.BIZ

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her soft bed of saffron hue.

      She lost her world and all she loved,

      On a cruel spring day long ago.

      These are the secret things brave Nyber must hear,

      Of the black dragon, brave Nyber must know.

      For this brutal dragon’s name is Bracken,

      His cruel minions are many and bold.

      He stalks sweet Hesper every night,

      With dark magick from a time of old.

      Yet Hesper has found some safety,

      Within Nyber’s protected, forested, glen.

      She hopes this young wizard will be strong,

      When great Bracken finds her again.

      Young Nyber is an Elven prince,

      Yet the ancient wizard way he’s sought.

      Now far from his unbending people,

      Many new lessons he’s been taught.

      And Hesper can see Nyber’s heart,

      As all pure of heart can do.

      Nyber’s true heart is a heart of burnt gold,

      And her heart is untamed sky blue.

      She could not help but fall in love,

      With one so warm and kind.

      She hopes he will return her love,

      When he completely knows her mind.

      Yet love or not, she will run no more,

      The time has come to stand and fight.

      She has made some friends and allies strong,

      She will face great Bracken’s might.

      She must win back her form, so she can be,

      The fair princess she was born to be.

      She must somehow defeat great Bracken,

      And find a secret, guarded, oak tree.

      Around which there is a silver cord,

      And a wondrous silver jar.

      From this trap she must free her true form,

      If her brave wizard can fight that far.

      Once the magick jar is cracked the wicked spell will be,

      Not as it was before,

      A blue dragon will fade, a princess will glow.

      Just as young as she was, once more.

      But for now a young wizard, Nyber Khan,

      Looks out from a lonely perch,

      As dappled sunlight glistens turquois scales,

      Over an ancient forest of pine and birch.

      He ponders a swift blue dragon,

      Untamed, wild, and free.

      He wonders aloud just how strange it is,

      That a turquoise dragon had come to be.

      He marvels at the old Elvish she speaks to him,

      She seems to love his castle of ebon stone.

      She teases and flirts with him every day,

      He feels happy and no longer alone.

      Great Bracken. (Poem Three.)

      His diamond scales gleam like an obsidian night,

      His cruel eyes cast a blood red glow.

      Volcanic flame and heat, white hot, blood red,

      From his ebon fanged mouth he can blow.

      He flies on six wings of bat leather black,

      Gliding silent on the night time air.

      He does as he wills, and then returns,

      To his secret, underground lair.

      Starlight is more light than Bracken needs,

      He dearly loves to hunt in the dark.

      He stalks patiently sweet Hesper, following all leads,

      Where he’s been, he’s left a cruel mark.

      Commanding his army of goblins and orcs,

      On armored griffin they bravely fly.

      Following an ancient river, twisting where it forks,

      Stalking silent a blood red sky.

      Curved swords all forged of mystic dragon steel,

      Shimmering a wicked, deep purple hue.

      Black spears and nets enchanted with spells,

      Seeking sweet Hesper, pure and true.

      A dark, dread force, cloaked in a black velvet night,

      Ebon scales and obsidian armor reflect amber moonlight,

      Mighty wings pump air, keeping straight on course,

      Excitement becomes bloodlust within Bracken’s cruel force.

      They stalk an old river with a faint elvish glow,

      Bracken’s cold magick inside he lets gather and grow,

      Flowing and growing to a place he’s not been before,

      Summoning a true vision of a place new in lore.

      A place with wide fields of poppies bright red,

      A deep blue lake kissing silvery sand.

      A secret place patrolled by a bold wizards force,

      A wondrous, protected land.

      A pure and magic forest scented with pine and birch,

      Maiden fern, red clover, granite rock.

      On its fair border a powerful confusion spell,

      Very few could ever hope to unlock.

      The spell is an easy task for great Bracken,

      For an earthbound mind Bracken’s not.

      A young, foolish wizard will soon rue the day,

      That he ever tangled with Brackens dark lot.

      For dark magick is Bracken’s pure majesty,

      It took many hard years for him to know,

      How to cast mighty spells, wield cold force,

      In unstoppable ways, just so.

      He smiles wide as sweet Hesper casts an innocent link,

      Now close enough he learns the score.

      He knows all her hopes and her innocent dreams,

      About a young wizard, unknown before.

      Hesper has not yet grown the power,

      To sense her playful link was caught.

      To understand cruel Bracken knows of everything,

      She and her young wizard have thought.

      Yet one thing remains outside his link,

      Made from the darkest obsidian stone,

      The young wizards castle, of ancient stone and light,

      To great Bracken remains unknown.

      This old castle was not built by Nyber,

      The ancient powers built it long ago.

      Within its impenetrable obsidian walls

      Psychic links have no power to go.

      Now Bracken smiles in darkened glee,

      He’s found the new place she chose to flee.

      He’ll invade the young wizards forest land,

      And lay it waste with his nightmare

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