Tale of the Trickster: Part Ii
Devastating was it's loss and far was it's fall,
From fearsome roar, now but a weakened call.
Once stained with crimson of it's chosen prey,
now the white plumage whithers with grey.
Lofty was it's existence over mortal men
but a hunter had risen to cast down there and then.
A lesson had been learned and an era came to end,
The mighty trickster bird for itself could not fend.
But why was it called a trickster to most?
A trend from myth, a fisherman's boast.
As tale would tell, the bird's form would change,
Into shapes and sizes and others things strange.
A time before pride in a land not so far
A mountain over a village known as Olias Scar.
Silent were the nights around the simple abode,
All but the river, by the village it flowed.
Asleep were the villagers, all but for one,
One bed was empty, the blacksmith's son gone.
Down by the river, inspecting the bank,
Into the water, thrown stones sank.
Dreaming of wonderous things he did,
inpractical and silly, his father forbid.
His name was Kei and his life was quaint,
A roof and food, there wasn't complaint.
But yearn and lament for adventure and fame
Treasure to uncover and a dragon to tame.
Distraction was broken and his eyes grown wide
across the sky, a shooting star would glide.
First along the left, arcing in the sky,
until suddenly it turned towards the boy, but why?
Impact the river with a splashing wave,
Metres away from the boy, close shave.
Fear and worry sprung in his chest
But surely it would serve as some kind of test
glancing as the water begins to ripple and boil
Fear had subsided, replaced with roil.
Beneath the water, something living would stir
But what was this creature? Scale, feather or fur?
Copyright © Oliver Liore | Year Posted 2014
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