A Mandrake's Gesture Vol. Vii

There upon the courtship, proclaimed, a sorrowful spirit hearkened upon this ballad of misery and burden. For her grief and unrelished despair, the angels of Michael, our saintly divine, answered, whil'st upon the hour of marriage royal, an unwanted surprise, a battle declared, as the essence of Faith exuberated. This day of celebration, joyous, the sun's vibrance a galliant shiny array of angelic symphony. The court's jester prepared daintfully as the council gathered for the wedding and celebration. Crowds upon crowds of commons and majestic royals gathered in anticipation, for a marriage vow of royal to peasant a spleen for gossip. Geinere's beauty and spirit made so ever-beautiful and bountiful, her Magdalenic passion, though hidden from the stage, her garden of love like no other Atlantis. This ballad of acceptance Cherubic as the maiden Geinere was given away. The gathered pupils from near and far, sighted tears of admiration and also of disbelief. The King. . . his pious disobediences, very kept subtle, for betrayal's embrace, here to far, loomed as an ominous hawk awaits its swoop. As the candles of the holy triad were lit, joyous spirit and unition embarked, as tragedy did fall upon this royal majestic whim. A messenger, grief stricken, hence matters slowly, a voice to the King. "My King, this glorious day made tragic, for our kingdom under seige soon, a chance to the North." "Speakest thou, this action made, a declaration of war, for no mercies we have, can'st determine our strategic foe." The King's voice grave with anger and unsuspected turmoil. A call to the Prince, oh the mighty heavens did begin to crash. Bolts of resilience and vigor shot from the oncoming enthralls of vengeance. "Messenger, retrieve the preparations, summon forth our army at once. My son!" Trumpets blew, as alarm and anxiety did ensue, instilling paramount fear, though only matched by the mighty holds of fate. "My Prince, calmest be, our sudden birth of unknowing, pray we share our time spent precious, for a call to arms for certain." Geinere, her demeanor shaken, her Goddess crying out as the premonitions of glorious battle, and dying victory echoed throughout. "My love, I regret these tragic circumstances, our labors, pray not lost to this ardorous hell that has come upon us." The king speaking, "my Prince, my son, I will await these temptations of Belial, ever so gracefully with the fullest respects, yours to mine."