No longer was Celestia the foal’s custodian
As he fell further, deeper within the black Pit.
At last, the final leg of his journey had begun–
None shall ever again after see Quivett.
Thorn fell nonstop– for Tartarus was barren,
No obstructions existed within the dark Pit.
Then Thorn hit the ground with a spasm–
This was Tartarus, the Infinite Chasm!
Thorn got onto his hooves after the long fall.
The ground itself gave the only light.
He looked about– to three sides was a wall.
The only way out was to his right.
Thorn started– but whose gnarl did befall?
Cerberus, the Guard– Thorn was in his sight!
Tânadain was summoned, but the guard fled.
Seeing no danger, it was put away instead.
A winding path led from where he was
To another platform– a path perfectly clear.
Thorn walked along this path without a pause–
With the way so clean, he had no fear.
Or perhaps the real danger lay close? Because
An empty path meant that danger was near.
There he was, intruding into a place so private–
This was the lair of the monster named Quivett!
Once he arrived, he looked for the monster–
The trouble was, he was nowhere to be seen!
Here was a large flat area, sized about an acre,
And yet, its emptiness could not be foreseen.
Quivett, clearly, was not here– if he were,
Defeating him Tânadain would be too keen.
“Quivett!” shouted Thorn. “Show yourself!”
Still, noöne was there other than himself.
Thorn turned around to go back on the path,
But then stopped– for the path wasn’t there!
Gone, without noise– what, pray tell, hath
Discord done to it? Why doth he even dare?
Was he Quivett? Did Thorn face the wrath
Of the greatest trickster? He became aware
That something else had disappeared too–
He checked his sack– ’twas the Rose so Blue!
Malicious laughter echœd through the chamber.
“Indeed,” said a deep voice, “what of it?
I saw thee, little Thorn, and thy many a labor.
But what obligation to present have I to admit?
Words can cut as sharp as the keenest saber.
Their pains– thoughtest thou I was the culprit?
Honestly, Thorn, thou art too quick to believe
That which thou wishest to be true– so naïve!
“All too often, they are their own forthbringers
Of their doom. The dragons like to think
That their Lord Gurun, with his loyal archers
And his sword Tânadain, carvedth a chink
Into mine heart. Why, this thought bordereth
Upon nonsense, inducedth by a cachaça drink!
By raiding villages of gilded treasure, they
Further bring troubles of vengeance one day!”
Thorn looked about for the voice’s source.
“Nay!” he objected. “That is not correct!
Retract your statements!” “But of course,”
Replied Quivett. “Allowest me to be direct:
Why trust one thou only acquainted’st by force
Of another?” “Who?” “Who dost thou expect?
Here is thy comrade.” For the briefest moment,
There was the Blue Rose– then it was absent!
“Hast thou lost hope yet? Thou shouldest!
Noöne who hadth come forth to face me
Hadth ever left– permanence, not as a guest!
There was a reason that the Tartarus Gatekey
Had not been invoked in any other quest
Before now.” So Thorn replied, “Obviously,
Only the dragons before knew of its power–
Then they told me. Now we meet this hour!”
“Aye,” Quivett acceded, “but what’s the point?
Thou sayest thou wantest to fight, but how?”
“’Tis simple,” replied Thorn. “I shall appoint
Tânadain to your end. You shall fall! Now!
I made a vow, and I shall not disappoint!”
But only Quivett’s laughter answered his vow.
“Dost thou not see, Thorn? I am naught!
Or, to be more precise– I am a thought!”
’Twas these statements alone that made Thorn
Coil back. “What! You’re not serious!”
He cried. Tânadain was then suddenly borne
In Thorn’s hoof. But it did not light! Thus
Any ensuing fight would be only forlorn.
Thorn had altogether lost Tânadain’s auspice!
“None can stand in your way when it is used,
If, when it is drawn, fighting is not refused.”
These were the dragon’s words echoing.
Then that voice melted into that of Quivett:
“Thorn, that ought to have been thy knowing!
Why hast thou made said warning go quiet?
As I’ve said, I’m immaterial, never showing
Myself to anyone. Thou oughtest to quit!
Lay down Tânadain (it hath served thee well),
And I shall lock up thee in thy new cell!”
Thorn laid it down not; it was simply sheathed.
“You frighten me not!” he said. “I shall not
Bow to you!” His words’ echoing wreathed
Around Tartarus. Then he heard a familiar lot:
“Quiet now! Do you hear?” the voice breathed.
This was the Windigo’s Coven that he fought!
Had they returned from the void of Nihilia?
That’d be a riddle worth the mind of Celestia!
Tânadain came forth– wholly lit up, this time.
Gust, Gale, Hail, and Frost came forth again.
“You? Thorn?” said Gust. “Here in this clime?
Come now, sisters, let us give him our pain!”
In that instant, the ground was covered in rime.
“Your marbles!” shouted Frost. “Your game!”
Thorn slipped and slid upon his lost marbles,
Falling forward, causing the sisters’ chortles.
“You were to be no more!” shouted the colt.
He struggled to get back upon his stance.
Tânadain’s flames gave the sisterhood a jolt,
But their staffs knew to give him no chance.
They charged forth at once, making him bolt
Briefly– then Tânadain held off like a lance.
But then the sword lost its iron grip–
And all four staffs plunged into Thorn’s hip!
Then, just as quickly, they had disappeared.
Quivett then told the story behind the Craven:
“Always to the cold the sisters adhered–
They took pride in their land so life-shaven!
Who melted their land? Just as I feared:
Those gold-hungry dragons are guilty of arson!
’Twas natural of them to seek their vengeance–
Even if they need to travel at a great distance!”
Another voice rang: “What! A mere foal I see?”
Thorn had heard such a gravelly timber before:
It was the source of the Tartarus-Gatekey!
Captain Grizzle had just now washed ashore!
His sword was drawn. “Thorn, have at thee!
I shall regain what was lost to me once more!”
Tânadain was summoned forth for the fight.
Then they charged forth– wrong against right!
Swords locked tightly against one another!
Now Thorn found Grizzle was truly brutal
In his advances– not even Tânadain was abler!
He hopped over Grizzle’s hard swings, agile
On his hooves– and ducked as it went over
His head! But every advance he was able
To make, was blocked by Grizzle. Futility–
That could not be overcome by his agility!
Just before the fateful strike, Grizzle vanished.
“Grizzle told thee,” said Quivett, “did he not?
He only seeked to do what Grover wished!
Were other nations in thy mind not bethought?
You see, Gryphonstone would be finished
Were it not for its successful trading-lot!
Clearly, money pooleth; it doth not trickle.
Rising and falling– Fortune’s favor is fickle!
“Recognize this one?” “Grendel, come quick!”
Thorn’s head turned in that direction–
Then they were upon him, hitting like a brick!
Grendel and Grøß had him in a net spun!
The stench of a prison nigh made Thorn sick.
“It’s over, Thorn!” Grøß said. “You cannot run!
You’ll be sold at market before you know it–
Who knows? Your buyer might be Quivett!”
Thorn faced an auction– where so many bits
Were offered. “A hard-working earth foal?”
Said one. “I shall buy him! A thousand bits!”
“Nay!” said another. “I’ll offer a bigger toll:
Double what he offers– two thousand bits!”
“C’mon, Thorn,” said Grendel. “Our goal
Is ten thousand at least. Oy! Do a trick!
Show them something fantastic– not basic!”
And then, just like that!– they were gone.
“Stop!” begged Thorn. “What do you want?”
“Thou art finished?” said he. “But I’ven’t won!
Not yet! Thy deeds must further thee haunt!
Grøß was once Grover’s most trusted one–
Caught stealing money, he was told ‘Avaunt!’
Grendel was desperate, picking in the street–
The two rovers were fated one day to meet!
“Now listen carefully– what dost thou hear?”
“Lord Fenrir demands from us another ton!”
Again a shiver in Thorn’s spine– out of fear!
He then glanced up– just in time to run!
Boulders tumbling– Geri and Freki were here!
Thorn dodged the boulders, but not the action!
He instantly was chained, and put to the labor–
Tânadain couldn’t slice through iron so bitter!
The cruel axhandle dug itself into Thorn’s jaw–
He swung it, burying the blade into the earth.
It yielded naught. By Geri and Freki’s law,
This earned him a whip for the null worth.
Thorn cried out. Another swing– then he saw
That his chains tightened around his girth.
“Work faster!” shouted Geri. “We have not
All day!” Thorn against the chains fought!
Iron so hard and so crushing then dissolved–
“Geri, Freki,” said Quivett– “what of their past?
Once, a problem they thought they solved:
A new method, to extract diamonds so fast!
But Lord Fenrir knew not of what it involved:
An army of the young, working to their last.
But they knew no wrong, they are blameless.
Perspective should be thy thoughts’ basis!”
The next of his memories was then presented.
It was recent: “Hussárs! Move forth! Attack!”
Suddenly, Thorn was caught in a fire-flood!
Why, the sword Tânadain had turned its back
On Thorn! “Tânadain! But why?” he shouted.
“This,” said Grogar’s voice, “is for your lack
Of consideration for those lesser than thee–
Now pick up Tânadain, foal– and face me!”
Sans his horns, the old goat had his blades
Wielded nonetheless– two against one,
The way Grogar preferred in his raids.
E’en against Tânadain, he’ll soon have won.
The sword was locked, and the other bade
Thorn a surrender– a colt against a bedouin.
One blade made Thorn and Tânadain apart,
As the other blade plunged for Thorn’s heart!
Before that could happen, all was naught.
“There!” said Quivett. “Hast thou no mercy?
Hath burning agony ever entered thy thought?
To them, flames were all that they could see.
Their wings burnt so, Tânadain was that hot.
That fight was unfair too; that anyone can see.
Remorse, Thorn! Remorse ought to be all
That thou feelest now– what an evil gall!”
Now Thorn could barely find the strength
Needed to stand up– O, how he did ache!
He struggled to reach the iron-forg’d length,
Tânadain, but more words he did intake:
“But I ask thee, I reiterate, maintain strength,
Or something evil will find thee, like a snake!”
Why, his mother spoke these in the Everfree,
Long before he met his mæstro by the tree.
Suddenly, he felt the ground beneath him lurch!
He looked down, and saw a long serpentine
Coil– with its grip around the stony perch!
Thorn stayed put– he found himself between
Scylla and Charybdis– thus he did search
Frantically for Tânadain, for its fiery sheen!
A dark shadow then loomed over Thorn.
The coil tightened– and the perch was torn!
At last, Quivett had chosen himself to show
As a fierce, giant, fanged, ten-eyed Basilisk!
His mouth gaping open, his fiery eyes aglow,
Fixt upon the center of the Tartarus obelisk.
This challenge was Thorn’s greatest thrœ!
Could Tânadain protect against such risk?
Thorn grabbed the sword– the hilt fathomed
By his hoof– and again the blade blossomed!
Quivett lunged forth, fangs pointing at Thorn.
Thorn leapt up, swung, and then Tânadain
Like many times before carried him airborne
Over Quivett’s head. Then fire did rain
Down upon the Basilisk. On flames wore
Upon his flesh, bringing him great pain.
Quivett’s coil convulsed, and the platform
Ultimately crumbled in the firestorm.
With eyes ten, it was hard for Thorn to escape
Quivett’s stare. The Basilisk always saw him,
And struck whenever he can. Thorn’s nape
Was nigh pierced by a fang, but a turn so slim
Saved his life. Then Tartarus’ landscape
Turned thorny, and the scent of stone of brim
Permeated the Pit. Thorn glanced off the tail
Of the Basilisk. Tânadain struck without fail!
Quivett cried out– O! What pain he was in!
He went blind on his left side. And just as so:
Thorn descended on that side. By the skin
Of Thorn’s teeth, Tânadain avoided the row
Of thorns beneath. Then, with a sly grin,
Thorn saw what opportunity this did bestow.
Tânadain glanced off of the thorny vine,
Went around the Basilisk, and went to the spine.
Fire pierced scales! And Thorn dragged down
The blade, to reveal Quivett’s vulnerability.
The foal found himself hanging facedown,
Staring down the Pit– hanging on– just barely!
He saw how Tânadain by them was renown:
A blade such as this could fall any army!
Gathering momentum, like a rolling stream,
Thorn swung himself back up, like in a dream!
“Think you that you can stop me?” he asked.
“I think not! You speak of so much evil,
Never recognizing what good may be masked!
It’s you who needs to look at another angle!
Now,” said he, “I shall do what I was tasked:
Put an end to you– no matter what battle!”
He leapt up, and with a strike so fine,
Slammed Quivett’s face into the vine!
Now Quivett found that he was wholly blind!
“I hate thee!” he screeched, with new anger.
He opened his wide maw, and with refin’d
Fangs, disproved Thorn’s claim to be stronger!
Thorn thought that he would lose his mind–
But, then, that dragon-seal he forgot no longer!
Thorn pulled out what he once did conceal,
And crushed it in his hooves, breaking the seal.
A heavenly light opened up overhead–
The dragons! They had answered his cry!
He saw an alliance that had went unsaid–
’Twixt them, the gryphons, and the pegasi!
The dragons opened with fire-breath so red.
The gryphons around and around did fly.
The pegasi brought with them their weather.
They were resolute to save Thorn together!
Fog the Pegasi brought not, but fog anyway
Concealed Thorn from Quivett’s glance.
“Brother Thorn! Art thou injured? Nay?”
Asked one dragon, wishing no mischance.
“I am well. . . .” Thorn’s world turned gray,
And Hypnos from Tartarus him did manse.
That dragon gathered Thorn and the sword,
And carried them upward aloft to Asgård.
With a new friendship binding them all,
The Basilisk stood no chance against them.
With him wholly blinded, the following brawl
Was decisive, and was carried out ibidem.
After the fight, Quivett would ultimately fall
To the alliance. After the great mayhem,
The Blue Rose was found within the rubble–
Unharmed, it somehow survived the trouble.