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[Merci d'Rue]

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Seasons dance in an endless array and hang thier colorful layers upon the lands skin. Floating endlessly, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall. Here she sits in her white refrain, cold, pale and perfect. Winter birth's the Spring, and Summer turns to the solace of Fall. Warm winds blow and threaten the soft snowflakes as they fall, ravaging her lands.

Memories, like a rush of river water break through wild and free, crushing thier icy dam. Warm, rich, frothing angrily, the waves cut through unstoppable. Heedlessly, fast they run forth though the mind of man errantly rending the calmness of prior moments. Gone is the perfect cold.

A Knight stood upon dawns cliff, his image silhouetted by the darkness now fading. His memories wild and filled with pain. Raging a war within himself. This dragon to slay, twas only himself. No damsel in distress for the rescue. Just a silent whisper on the wind. A voice in his mind.

Dawn shimmered now but its light was cold and aching, no warmth within its touch and yet he clung to it, the pain filling him the cold soothing him. Then in a moment it was gone and only warmth replaced it. Lifegiving warmth to body and mind. Yet he wanted them not.

Winters frost was gone, the icicles shattered upon the ground and blood splattered crimson in the snow. Silence now filled the waking Sky, for birds did not dare open throats and sing of trilly tunes this day.

His fingers found the strength of his sword...
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May destiny guide you...