> The Six Deeds of Harmony
>  by Defoloce
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prelude
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────────PRELUDE──────────


e sing it now, as Chaos sleeps in stone,
And praise the rising of the Summer Sun,
With Moon to watch us as we weave our dreams;
May They both rule in gladness for all time.

Anon They stepped Them down upon the world
To tread on hooves like ours, yet still a-part
And redress the unmaking of all things,
Lamenting as we did the Chaos-craft.

Then ponies fashion’d Love, and She ensouled
The chant of yearning, singing of two hearts,
Her name was Cadenza, that all who live
Might heed the beat of Her name in their breast.

So Day was then to live, and Night to dream,
And Love to holdeth Chaos from approach;
Yet Chaos, tombed, can not be kept in stone
So long as Love doth free it willingly.

A stallion-knight, so charm’d, did vie for one
Of higher blood, a noble mare, whilst he,
Of common birth, sought out a courtship rare.
As Love did smile, so too did Chaos grin.

To tilt at beasts, and fiends, and evil wills
Was wont of all good-hearted knights like he
The winged, the horned, his fellow earth-ponies
Did gladly tribute him at tournament.

In feats of arms did favour come to him
And noble eyes beheld his martial worth
And though ‘neath Sun and Moon could his blade flash
In Love there was no foe stood to be cut.

She, unicorn, and fair to look upon,
A gentle mage who did not want for eyes.
And yet she saw no suit to be her own
But that which selfsame knight would set to her.

An but he knew, alas! ‘twas not his ken.
This she would 'dress, but her own dam forbade
Commingling they with ponies of the earth.
And with it so, the maid in vigil pined.

O fairest coat of sky and mane of snow!
O magick, sparkling argent lambency!
That one whose lot was blood and steelshod risk
Could fetch the fancy of that rad'iant mind!

He saw her high, and counted himself low,
Unworthy of her beauty and her charms.
Lamenting that she had no use for steel,
Then what, i'faith, could he put up for her?

So he did come a-call unto the Throne
And, supplicant, besought the Sisters there
To give him quest and make him prove his worth
In measure such to win a noble eye.

“O knight,” said Sun, “Love shan’t blush twice at thee
An thou seekest to court by letting blood.”
“O knight,” said Moon, “Our niece looks not soft ‘pon
Ungentle deeds and hardn’ing hearts, in sooth.”

"O Princess Day," said he, "I'll spill no blood
'pon sward or sea, in duty or in wrath."
“O Princess Night,” said he, “I then abjure
My sword and vow to woo by gentle act."

"An so, We fain would favour thee," spake Moon,
"So would I hold that our belovèd niece
Would favour thee in kind. So by My Crown
Thou shalt be put to quest. Seek Harmony."

The knight did not lift gaze, for well he knew
The Sun anon would turn put him to quest
And thus he wait’d for Her gentle speech,
Yet Day's soft voice was stayed a breath for thought.

“I sit bemused,” said She after a time.
“Hast thou naught to offer this mare but deeds?
Is she a-won with risks and with tributes?
A hero must thou beest ere love is claimed?”

“In all my ken, this is but my sole gift,”
Came in reply the knight to princess fair.
“I had not loved ere I beheld this mare;
Forsooth, mine roughness she would suffer not.”

“How ‘musing, then, must stallions be!” spake Moon.
“Perceivest thou that worth holds in her eyes
In symmetry as to be held in thine?
Suffice its stead our niece to smile ‘pon thee!”

“Thou hast set me to quest, and so I shall,”
Spake plain the vexèd knight to laughing Moon.
“‘Find thee thy Harmony’, as Thou hast spoke
And I so pledged to stay both blade and hate.”

The Sun perceived resolve and gave a smile.
“A maid must thou attend in number six
In keeping with the number'd Harmony.
They hold the taint of Chaos, and keep it.
I charge thee ‘solve them of their sore laments
And give them gladness where none ere abode.
Once questèd, then I say thou shalt behold
The worth in Love that thy self can not see.”

“Where shall I quest?” asked then the stallion bold.
“I have but will and hooves to carry me.”
The Moon sang then a sonnet sweet, Her voice
So fair that frost on mountaintops did melt.

"The Sooth doth echo out from fields and caves
Its power makes jennets and jacks rejoice.
Hear thee the Mirth to rise and break on waves
A swimming pony there laments her voice.
The Fealty rises up above all land
The hornèd folk do value it o’er all.
Benev’lence ‘round a tribe of wingèds band—
Talons and beaks ‘turn not their siblings' call.
So Charity be trust of graceful kin
The antlered ones of forests doth attend.
And Magick last, though with it shadow'd sin;
To darkest place of all that thou must wend.
His Chaos follows close, I so perceive;
Her Love shall be thy sole befirm'd reprieve.”

The knight found steel, yet not of sword, in stead
Of forthright will, so yearned did he for deeds.
To think a maiden kept in woe did call
To see an he could make it well for them.

The Sisters there 'pon marble throne could sense
Of smould'ring knightly wont for righted wrongs.
A love beside, no bid was due for Them
To set a martial soul to course for good.

The Sun then stood, and with Her stood the sky.
"A final charge, O knight, and then depart:
Our niece be Love Herself, gave flesh and coat.
Her witness will, I pray, avail thee oft."

"An Crown doth will, so 'tis my well-come lot."
He bowed again and felt the Sky’s pure love
O’erreaching him, kissing his very soul,
With feeling clouds a-running through his mind.

He took his leave, his sword left there to rust.
Cadenza, there, to tend to him anon,
Was found well met with goodly temp'rament.
They hied from there, to wilds and lands beyond.

"Fair knight, thou hast such charms, and thou wouldst quest?"
Cadenza neighed Her fretting to the road.
"A handsome face, a stalwart will, and heart
So given to the care of tidings dark!"

"To be called fair by Love's goddess is boon
Unlooked-for by a stallion clear of mind,
But lo, I pray Thee, soft! Those so besought
As I for storied acts needeth humility."

"An thou wert Love, wouldst thou give up thyself
To empty flatteries and pleasant words?"
The knight spake not and, smiling, Love did laugh
And 'solve to keep his favour close at hoof.

The grassy plains of Burrone set ahead.
So, trav'ling haste, the two sought Harmony,
That knight and Love alike might soar to worth,
Unwit of sorrows biding in the world.
> The Deed of Sooth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────THE DEED OF SOOTH──────


urrone was form'd by disp'rate donkey tribes,
A folk both hale and simple in pursuits.
Their lot and wont was but to turn the earth
And sun and graze upon the greensward there.

The grander world was naught amongst their cares
Though neighbours they did bid a well-come word.
So too it was when knight and goddess pass'd
Down from the borders of Equestria.

The gold-gilt waves of reaching summer wheat
Broke then to cottages and sheds of tack:
A donkey-village there amongst the rich
And pleasant favour of the till's bounty.

The knight was stayed; no sight had he ere seen
Did tribute properly the donkeys' apt
For soil-craft and for the master'd plow.
Here 'fore him bode a challenge to his kin.

"And lo! so we are come apace to 'hold
The richness past our neighb'ring county's mete!
Would that own stock could grow so powerf'ly!
What sadness, pray, might cool the hearths within?"

The Princess Love was sorrow'd, and with head
A-shake She brought him down the hill with Her.
"A masque" said She, "'hind which a green beast stirs,
And careless dines upon the fruit of toil."

At this the knight could conjure naught to say
For being stallion he could not appraise
The subtleties and depths of fem'nine minds.
His place, he knew, sat firm apart from there.

"The wheat-farm thither doth our maid abide,"
Cadenza spake as they coursed 'pon the road.
"A blessing made a burden by her lot
To set keen words upon her sisters' tongues."

At gate did fore-jack bow and give them meet.
He brought them to his board and bid them sup
In 'cord with donkey hospitality
To such hath been their mark for cent'ries on.

The fore-jack's countenance betrayed his joys.
"Two waywards thou art not, I plain behold!
A goddess, here, and one of martial caste
Who bears no steel 'gainst which to stand a foe!"

Cadenza supped, but being alicorn
Was without need for repast or for drink,
Yet such was Her full grace and courtly charms
She could not 'fend Her host and there abstain.

The knight was kind, and in his armour shone
The legion flick'ring lights of candles soft.
"Our matter," spake he strong, "sets with a youth
Who hither dwells, her blessing made a curse."

"I know the maid," spake fore-jack sullenly.
"Her sire and dam were planters in our fief.
Yet youth, in its caprice, be ever cruel;
Such jealousy fast gripp'd her peers' sore hearts."

Knight finish'd sup and stood to graceful bow.
"This matter: I confess to know it not
In nuance and in wisdom finely spun.
So might we audience with selfsame maid?"

The hostly jack led out and short afield
To dormitories where the farmers slept.
He call'd for her, the object of their quest
And she emerged with eyes a-red with tears.

Her count was such that even Love did stay
A single beating of Her heart in shock;
A-front them there beneath the forenoon Sun
Was stood a jenny, young, unearthly fair.

She 'held them still within her wav'ring eyes
And sorrow took its hold on her anew.
She wept, her head drew low, and she did cry:
"O pity! Now am I a knight's attend?"

"A blaze might start but from a spark alit,"
Betold the knight in temper'd soothing words,
"And troubles thine might not be thine alone.
What Chaos hath your sorrows erstwhile wrought?"

She led them thence to their fief's granary.
O'erflowing as it was with aurum reap'd
There still within was mix'd some brown and black
Bespeaking hard emotion and dis-ease.

Midday approach'd, and with it warming breeze
Which played amongst the armour of the knight
As he beheld the life and food of fief.
He then, bemused, did pace and made to speak.

"Wherefore doth the reapers gather that
Which sicks and dies e'en as it rests within?
I see such care ev'denced in all the else
And of thy kindred's splendour'd harvestry."

"I feel it here," spake Love, "and in Mine horn
Can be no tale: verily, 'tis Chaos
Himself who leers and sends the wheat to death.
I'faith, here nests the sorrows of our maid."

"I'm stone to think that I would be the cause
For famine and for want in seasons come!
Wherefore is it my lot to salt and scourge
These lands o'er which an idyll should be writ?"

The knight recoil'd. "How now! Thou wrights this woe?
I'll hear it not! Speak plain, I pray, and tell
To goodly Goddess Love and I beside
What cause be give to entertain such sworn."

The maiden there, of loveliness to shy
The storms as they would tear the land a-sund
Lament'd out her plight of blight perceived
That such a boon was come with deadly cost.

"O knight, O Love, I confidence to thee
That I am told my beauty causes this.
My parents loved me such to gift me good,
But I, their issue, now must see the price.
My dam wish'd deep amongst the space 'twixt stars:
'Deliver unto her a face so fair
That none in Burrone counties could compare.'
Her life in birth was Chaos' rotten tithe.
My sire, so stricken of his love's great loss
That he abscondèd hence to lands unknown.
And so it is that this own face I wear
Cost life, and love, and now our ploughshares' fruit."

The knight shook out his handsome mane and neighed,
"O maiden mine, I fear thou art misled.
Thy story, tragic though, doth hide the true
And true-like source of fortune's mal intent."

Long ears a-perk'd at these few hopeful words.
"So prithee, sir, what succour should I take
When all the woes of home seem firm 'pon me?
What force and painèd hate besets me so?"

"'Tis jealousy, as my princess confess'd,"
A nod ere which the goodly knight did give.
"A need of Sooth is what brought us to thee
So falsehoods, I perceive, hast thou been told."

"An envy of my beauty? Have it, then!
I say an one doth want it for their own
Then let them come and 'lieve me of its curse!
Such do those natt'ring sloths my peerage jibe!"

"A cave, a cave!" the knight then cried to Love.
"The Moon Herself did sing of caves, recall.
I see it now, the gath'ring pawns unwit
And how Chaos would have them aggravate."

Cadenza loft her chin to taste the sky,
Her horn aglow with fiery sensate.
"A cavern near the burg be easterly;
A blackness hangs o'er all its vestibule."

The knight turn'd then back to the jenny's gaze.
"These peers, these ones who bid thee carry blame:
Be they asleep, afield, or doth they roam?
I conjure that their years are like of thine."

The donkey-maiden there was put aback.
"I'faith, we share a year of birth amongst,
Though pointèd will and hurt was brought of late
As they came loath to look o'erlong my face.

"As for their hobby, nay, I know it not.
They discount me at ev'ry turn and bide
Their idleness away where none might see.
I've caught no reason e'er to mark the cave!"

"We now away," with hasten'd care cried he!
The three-count comp'ny gallop'd east across
The roll'd-on hills and shallow pools of rain
Until to antre dark anon were come.

A noisome smell was issued from the mouth
And o'ermuch depth no light would penetrate.
The jenny's ears told well her tides of dread
Whilst knight approach'd the rocky demon's maw.

"Offal nor the droppings of cave-bats be this
Which 'fends our nose and keeps us breathless bound!
'Tis verily quite plain a witches' brew
Of fetid make and wicked dreamcraft sought!"

They braved the ichor of that skyless stretch
And deep a-soul of earth did that path take
Until, at last, the three were come before
A chamber domed in ill-eased verdant light.

Four donkey-maidens cauldron did attend
And, chanting to unworldly powers, they
Forth summon'd smoke and heavy turgid mists
Coloured of limbs which be bereft of blood.

In shadows close the three beheld the moot
Of earthen magicks jured without a horn
To call upon the finery of skies.
The mortals' coats were wont to 'scape their flesh.

In Quagga did the donkeys send their pleas
Unto the veils of magick, grave and base.
Entranced were they, and so espied no foe
To stir them from their magick'd reverie.

"That be the utterance of zebra-folk,"
Hoarse whisper'd the still knight, a-pale with awe.
"Alas that it be so, but mine own ken
Be not a match for far tongues such as these."

Cadenza made to cyph the eerie cants.
A goddess, She, yet young as gods are come.
"It 'feats me, so it does," was Her lament,
"But malice is forfent; it visits not."

"A curiosity is set to hoof;
Let I reveal and break them of this spell."
The knight emerged him from the shadows' cape
And stood a-bold to capture sorc'ress eyes.

"A pony! Pony!" come one witch's shriek.
"In armour as to slay us where we stand!
Bepeace, sir knight, and stay thee up thy girt—
We are but maidens, issued of Burrone!"

"I know thy hail, and thy foul purpose too,"
Without gentility did the knight speak.
"Pray tell me whence this zebra-earthcraft comes
And wherefore pourest hate upon the fair."

"Our purpose be not foul!" then called the next.
"Our tutelage was in last winter brought
By zebra-train in lasting migrancy.
A barter'd 'change of gifts: repast for this."

Spake knight "So said and heard, and yet uneased
By what array be cast before my hooves.
Hast thou yet more to speak to magicks these?
Avail thy selves, that consequence be light."

The third was now the one to speak her piece:
"O sir, the spell within thy witness held
Be but a blessing for our failèd crops
Which wither under beauty's baleful heat."

"Like sun removed of rain, would beauty be?
Be fairness now ill omen to the earth?
What good is come from lying to a friend
And lying to one's self in measure more?"

To this the jennies conjured no rebut
Save scuffing of black hooves upon the rock.
The knight made gentler in his manner's lead,
His voice grown soft with beauty of its own.

"Thou seest it not, but there it doth await
Thy sure attention—that the wheat dies not
From beauty, but from specious, cutting words.
In beauty there is Sooth, in Sooth beauty.
Thou stock'd by now so much in bitter bile
From lies come sooth, and Sooth is so denied.
Now twofold falsehoods thee attend to keep
And nurture like the wheat thou wouldst protect.
Thy souls are made ill-favour'd by false wish
Where Sooth would give thee beauty of a kind
Ungained by comely, fetching countenance.
Renounce it now, and see bounty returned.
The zebra-craft be strong, but others more.
No spell can best emotion's power raw
In Harmony's weal or Chaos's woe.
Pray be a friend, that friends enjoy life more."

The jennies there, the fair one's erstwhile friends,
Exchanged their eyes ere bowing grace to him.
The zebra-spell was dissolute anon
And then the smoky air did sly depart.

"Sir knight," said one, "confess we then our ire
That we were not made fair as our dear friend.
As we a-grew and took more note of age
Desired we much misfortune for her life."

The knight returned the bow with dashing cut.
"Thy hate begun the with'ring of the crops
Unknownst to thee, but then thou hadst the cause
For further harm and fashioning of lies."

"We wanted it be Sooth, yea, verily!
So much that we convinced it to ourselves
And thought that we alone could much protect
Our livelihood from her own wickèd face."

The mention'd maiden show'd herself to them
And many tearful pardons were result.
They walked them back the village as fast friends,
Again to chase down their happy pursuits.

Both Love and knight alike were sought to feast,
Carousing them with donkeys until dawn.
Yet, dutiful in all, they two declined.
For five more feats await'd them beyond.

They took their leave with saddlebags aweigh
With sumptu'us carrots, hazelnuts, and thyme.
They went with promise that the pony-folk
Be ever welcome in their sun-soaked land.

The Element of Sooth, so strong it was,
Did mend the sicken'd wheat e'en in its stores.
Not one sole stalk was left to rot alone
And winter bore no fears for fair Burrone.
> The Deed of Mirth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────THE DEED OF MIRTH──────


cross meand'ring streams and hillocks pass'd
Our lowborn knight and manner'd princess wise
Until so came they to the great world-sea
Which keeps abyssal secrecies within.

"I do yonder espy a settled port,"
Said knight, eyes slitted 'gainst the 'treating sun,
"And ships at call beyond the shanties planch'd.
An we hath luck, we'll hire one presently."

In myriad clear amber'd jewellery
Doth continental oceans keep the sun.
Cadenza, Love Herself, a moment kept
To 'hale the humid salted air a-waft.

"Confess Me now that I've 'held not the sea,"
Said She in foal-like innocence to him,
"Though all song-craft is birthèd from her shores
And oft I sing her lullabies to none."

A gladden'd smile did play upon his lips.
"Not few hath been the times she cradled me;
Give well-come words to her when then thou art met
That favour'd Love might fetch us foll'wing seas!"

The balm-swept port afar, named Anchormeet,
Tumescent was with rough and churlish ilk
On cloven hooves and pony-hooves alike.
Our trav'lers were stark contrast made to stand.

Plains buffalo and zebra, some adorned
With scar-tattoos across their weather’d hides
Made wary glance, as chance there was to meet
On knightly eyes who struck about him clear.

Cadenza, too, could feel unwelcome looks
Of merchant-goats with knurl'd and greasy beards
A-next to sullen prostitutes of sea,
They mares and stallions both, for sailors' lust.

So made She close to him and sidelong hushed:
"Not an thou quest’d for a score of lives
Couldst thou erase all wickedness from here,
Perception mine from this menag'rie be."

The knight could but give subtle nod to this.
"So 'tis, I say, and I with savvy some
To measure roughness in own roughness' den.
O princess, I lament thy witness here!"

A titter did escape the goddess' mouth.
"How noble thou art now! But fear thee not;
For I'm no pamper'd posey on lapel
To wilt and shrink at daylight's first true heat!"

The knight look'd west and there beheld the day
Last set to rest as eventide awoke.
The taverns' bells and bawdy-houses rang
For custom as the piers a-lit with lamps.

"And what of darkened coolness of the night?"
Ask'd he with sour smile and mischief glance.
"Fair Moon might blush at what transpireth where
Décorum never laid a polish'd hoof."

"Am I the Moon, or doth Mine aunt yet be?"
Said Princess Love as to an alley crept.
She smiled at him and with a gentle cast
Of orchid light assumed a merchant's guise.

"'Tis true enough, attention's not our wont,"
Came out a voice belonging to a mare
Of coarsely measure and a slight-lamed gait.
"An we seem rich, then richness they accost."

Into a tavern knight and merchant stepp'd;
They met at once with noisy carousement
And chaos such to flush mad gods with glee.
The fire-pit cast rows in ashen red.

The knight's two ears went flat-on 'gainst his head.
"Such foulness, yea, in conduct and in smell!
On floor might be more cider than in glass!
Be wisdom now to keep a manner here?"

Cadenza, still beguised, pass'd him a wink:
"Thou art o'ermuch a knight—let Me lead us."
With sudden, easy motion did She change
That royal smile into an oily sneer.

In midborn accent of her guise’s caste:
"Stay low that prideful count, O favour'd knight.
Play well thy part in muted complement
And take sole cue from how I ply this stage."

Ere more was said, She off and strode the lanes
Of eager and verbose debauchery.
The knight so tail'd, in care to step around
The drunken deckhoofs and the wanton curs.

No hesitance forshown Cadenza gave;
Anon She made the captain best to serve
Their need of sail-craft careful and discreet
And sat Her down across from same mare's board.

"To drink or business: that be for me time,"
Said straight the sail-mare to the goddess rused.
"An ye hast naught of either, then begone!
For pleasant conversation starves me purse."

The captain spake with accent of the sea,
The boist’rous, hardy, rolling tongue of waves
‘Hind which her merriment or scorchèd hate
Could easy be concealed to those unwise.

A pace behind the princess stood the knight,
Unknightly in his best efforts to seem.
The merchant-mare Cadenza had become
Put thrice a knock upon the splinter'd board.

"For both it, then, that goodwill doth take hold!
I, Poplar, and the sellsword at my back
Hath Cordial to be call'd, when call I must."
The captain look'd beyond to take the knight.

"He reek of errance, armour'd so befirm,
Yet, marry, bears no arm to test his met!
Ye hast him, then, for other duties close:
A sellsword with a better sword to sell!"

The captain flew a wink as rum was set
Before the mares by zebra serving-wench.
A lady never would give to such mirth
In braying vigour taken company.

"No less, a hedge-knight brought down from his grace
By his own tale, but comely croups as his
Are I say wasted on the battlefield!"
Another laugh at this, and then to quest.

"I have some need of sail, my steady salt.
Out to Ibexia I striketh would
Along with fetching stallion hither seen.
So an thou hast a fasting purse, accept."

The captain drain'd her rum and cannon wiped
Across her grinning snout ere she respond:
"No paltry take would passage gain, me lass!
A giving heart floats better, so I've found."

Cadenza bore a warm yet poisoned smile.
"To eightscore sov'reigns will I but agree.
'Tis surfeit for such vessels like to hove
Into a swill-steeped planch-port such as this."

The boist'd, ringing laughter of the mare
Reach'd out above the din of conduct rough.
"So have ye said, and I'll deny it not!
Yet comp’ny sought is comp’ny kept, me heart!“

On she lounged there whilst Cadenza drank,
And when She finish’d, captain spake again:
“At break of day will anchor kiss the wind,
The Wingless Heron be her given name."

The princess, as coarse Poplar, stood and bowed.
"So by your leave, O captain, we retire.
My solemn promise keeping dalliance soft—
Thou shalt not find it uttered here to-night!"

They moved to let a room from upstairs' inn
And, free of company, her guise dispelled.
The knight, his armour doff'd in hastèd pile,
Did sulken sit upon his mattress strawn.

The inn-room's walls were cleaned with laughter light
As Love beheld the knight's warm latent blush.
"Good humour, sir! We're on a task of Mirth,
And ladies of their means need retinue!"

"Methinks in excess didst thou take the play
To have masculine comfort hired on.
Enjoy'd it o'ermuch, from where I stood."
Not even for all will would his ears rise.

"But to assuage the get of poverty
Was the intent of what thou mark as farce,
So pray else mark it well-come compliment:
A stallion such as thee would princely cost!"

Cadenza, trotting to, did kiss the blush.
"Find ease, sir knight, find ease, I thee beseech!
In love thou art, yet Love foresees that She
Hath much to teach thee yet, ere quest be done."

"Mayhap the morrow finds a student here,"
Said knight through solemn'd gentle weary yawn.
"For this, to-night, I'll be the happy dunce."
He laid his head and gave him up to sleep.

The slumber of the knight dissolved to calls
Of morning gulls and gannets seeking scraps
Upon the moon-chill'd decks and piers without.
So roused, he made to rise and armour don.

Companion his, the princess, had spread out
The donkeys' gifts of vegetables plump.
He bowed to Her and wordless broke his fast
As She gazed on in fondness for his way.

"What look have I, to fetch such wiled regard?"
Said knight as saddlebags on back were set.
"I 'cuse Thee not of impropriety
Though worry for my self was all I kept."

She still spake naught, and knight was left
To battle a faint smile upon his snout.
It soon came full upon him, then a laugh,
At which the goddess last did rear and join.

With magical assumption of Her guise
Again in place, they struck from befouled inn
And made to foamy waters of the shore.
The Day was come, Her monde to warm their backs.

They wander’d piers and sought the ship
Call'd Wingless Heron, as it was so told.
Cadenza touched a wing to the knight's neck
As they slow closed upon a cog so named.

"Should quest be done and thou returnèd home
To thy wish’d maiden, then should court her well,
A husband thou be first, and then a knight.
I take My tribute due in measure great!"

"Henceforth Thy lessons now are to begin?"
Ask'd knight with deferent yet tarted tongue.
She only offered up a winsome smile
And stopped before the gangplank set aboard.

He 'held the ship and count'd it befit,
Though agèd was its sail and jagged sprit.
The captain disembarked and made such bow
To shame a caller at majestic courts.

"The Heron be well-met to have aboard
Her two earth-ponies strong and hardy-built.
And such our luck, no rain for first day’s sail!
The Sun, I reckon, call’d it off for ye!”

The two so made their greetings and embarked,
Then thereupon were met the Heron’s crew.
The captain made self first to introduce
After all others muster’d amidships.

“Sea Nettle be me name, an’ no mistake,
I captain this here heron of the seas.
The bison-bosun thar be me right hoof,
So named is Prairie Hawk, as he would tell.
Two zebra mares to hoist and rig the sails,
Kuvuta’s one, then Bana for t’other
(But so ye ken, I call ‘em Pull and Pinch).
And Tradewind last, our pegasus, who keeps
The crow’s nest and the watch of sky’s surround.”

They all bowed to, yet spake none in their turn.
In stead they set to duties casting off
And so put Wingless Heron out to sea,
Ibexia a-waiting two days thence.

Easy went the way through morning’s watch,
And levity served with the midday’s meal,
Though captain Nettle fierce designed to see
The measure of her custom-escort’s met.

As all doth know, the earth-ponies are those
Most given to the sail and sailors’ ways,
Yet even ‘mongst the ones who take to ship,
The knight was stoic steady; so she saw.

“Say lo here, Poplar, and attend me but
A moment’s time. I say I ne’er met a one so girt
And given up to trials as he seem!
What say ye, then, to friendly wager light?”

Cadenza, knowing well seafarers’ love
Of sporting oft in wealth and earnèd pride,
Did hearken up the captain’s bid for ears
And entertain what would be put to Her.

“Me bison-bosun, Hawk, be buffalo
In envy’d strength by all who stride the earth.
Upon the sea, mayhap, he’ll have a match!
Would ye put up yer stallion to a duel?”

The merchant-princess met it with an arch.
“What gains, prithee, do we each stand to take
In turn from such a contest? He’s Mine hire;
Thus, terms of harm be disagreeable.”

“A harm-less test of strength, ye have me word!
And as for terms, there too is plainly spake:
In victory, I’ll forgive half yer toll,
Defeat finds him in cabin mine each night.”

Cadenza reared and laughing shook her mane.
“How basely thou conducts! No pauper, I,
Who ill affordeth prices promised so!
Let him decide, and I’ll fain second be.”

Anon Sea Nettle put it to the knight
Who plain recoiled, but, to Love’s surprise,
Agreed to term and challenge readily.
A-gape, Cadenza could but witness play.

“O knight,” she low conferred with him a-side,
“It recks thee not to game with chastity?
This quest be not a test of cowardice;
The Harmony’s the thing—I pray thee neg!”

The knight met eyes with Prairie Hawk, and said
“I’ve wagered oft much worse in course of deed.
O Love, Thou might be goddess, but need tell
That 'tis through real risk that knights are made.
Immortal may Thou yet come prove to be,
But well 'tis thought to die as one might choose.
To what ideal might mortals last achieve?
It shan’t ‘come known without challenges met.”

“E’en challenge such as this?” she doubtful spake.
“There be no blood to spill or be spill’d here.”
Replied he quick with glad and ready heart:
“For knights, one’s life and pride are close as kin.”

Sea Nettle muster’d crew once more and cried
“Avast and hearken, lot, and witness bear
To show of might and competition great!
Our two staid war’iors here their thews will test!”

“'Tis simple,” captain spake, “at anchor drop
Me zebras will keep time with zebra-song
Whilst Tradewind counts the beats ere anchors-up.
The fellow with the fewest beats is won.”

The bosun, Prairie Hawk, was first to test.
Kuvuta first, then Bana took their drum
In keeping time as he set to the wheel
Alone in effort, silent in his work.

Ere long did anchor clat against the hull
And hoofbeats of the zebras came to cease.
“Oh ho! me hearty bosun, good account!”
Cried out the pony captain from her watch.

The knight was then put to the windlass spoke
Once anchor had again found ocean floor.
His muscles stood as cords and sinew'd strain
‘Neath leaded iron in the sea’s harsh pull.

Once done, the lookout Tradewind bow’d to him
And raised his wings in pegasi’s respect.
“Fivescore beats and nine was this one’s count,
Sufficient to best Hawk’s of sixscore-one.”

The princess, minding not her trepid sense,
Did laugh again and dance a-round the knight
Caught up in victorious revelry.
The knight’s manner maintained, for his part yet.

“A feat, i’faith, a feat of peerless might!
So fearsome must it be to see an edge
Borne as thou wouldst against a hapless foe!
Thou dost kin proud—so too, Equestria!”

The Heron’s captain stamped in grace applause.
“Though might it pain me so to slip me prize,
A word’s a word, and I’ll no villain be:
So fourscore sov’reigns now do sole ye owe.”

The ship hove on to deeper waters still.
Ere evening set, the knight attended Hawk.
“Thou hast great met to call an anchor so.
I hope there be no fashioned enmity.”

The buffalo slow shook his great horn'd head
And slower spoke odd accent of the plains:
“The great Coyote tricks, the Raven shifts,
Yet you blench not, are constant like the Earth.”

When last he made to take his rest, Love stopped
Him ‘midships, bringing him to northern rail.
“Thee hold, good knight! 'Tis now thy time to learn
Of what Mine aunts would have all ponies ken.”

“So loving I escaped, yet Love not so,”
Said he with faint amusement on his lips.
Cadenza, playful cuffing with a hoof,
Commenced her lesson there to him anon.

“Now look thou north, into the firmament:
Above us there be Love, Mine own retreat
That Luna, goddess Moon, did make for Me.
Thou seest it eventide, when lovers join
And morningtide again when they awake.
When I withdraw Me from the earth to ‘hold
All love within creation, there I go.
I read the hearts of all who breathe the air
And swim within the waters deep and dark.
Know well, mayhap, that Love be Harmony,
Yet Harmony less Mirth be broken Love.
In love there must be joy, O stalwart knight,
For temperance alone be passionless.
An one should holdeth fast to chivalry
As thou so dost, perceived so well by all,
They’ll keep no room for softness in their heart.
To battle makes one hard, e'en Love knows well,
And hardness be a rock not eas’ly split,
Yet shouldst thou find the favour of your mare,
Thy stolid heart, ere long, will turn her cold.”

A whinny there made utter from the knight,
His head to lower from the watching stars.
“In hardness won and softness kept is love;
Most those I know choose one to be of kind.”

The patient goddess laughed to light the stars.
“What jesting thoughts doth stallions entertain!
'Tis now a prize, one’s love, and not a gift?
Shouldst thou fail in this quest, thy love forfeits?”

“Doth wain-wright who breaks wagons earn her bread?
Doth scribe who cannot write belong at court?
In steel I trade, but counsel’d by Thine aunts
My sword’s put up, that Love may find me fair.”

Cadenza’s hoof lit ‘pon his pauldron worn.
“'Tis not for Me, nor yet for Them, that We
Would have thee court in true gentility.
But thou wish’d quest, so to a quest were put.”

“Forsooth, to give back Harmony so known.
The knight be not his sword—his deeds in stead.
I need no steel to work good ‘pon the land.
I’ll leave Thee now, Your Highness, to Thy sky.”

The knight stole down to berth and present slept.
His dreams were plagued by blackness creeping out
From clustered sockets deep within the world,
Appraising bitterness where it would pass.

His rest was broke by plea’d and weary’d words
Betwixt the scout Tradewind and Princess Love.
A hasted gird, then up from berth he came
To behold morning-sun from starboard rise.

“I say thee neigh, sore given, we can not
The Doldrums sail, e’en with a cog so fit
As goodly Heron. Not a score of wings
would call the wind, so strong doth Chaos hold.”

The knight took stock of this and looked ahead
To where the Wingless Heron might approach:
A stygian stretch of hungry, dark water
Lay off the bow and beckon’d with its mouth.

The merchant-mare, who was Cadenza, saw
The knight had roused and so made way to him
To speak with hush and measured quiet tone.
Poor Tradewind’s nervous wings flit in concern.

“The maid of Mirth doth swim within the black.
Thou canst not call to her ‘til we suspend
Ourselves above the chilled abyss,
Though way be shut unless we sell our need.”

The pegasus in consternation add:
“The sun is ever block'd here by a cloud
Which doth not move, since wind will not behear
Entreaties of my kin or those a-like.”

The captain made from study and looked out
Upon the merchant’s grim petitioning.
She raised a voice to scorch a hole in cloud
Such that a ray of daylight might break through.

“Belay yer whinging, mare! No needless risk
Will I put to the Heron or her crew.
A-round the Doldrums will we put to move,
A day’s more sail is but it stern demands.”

With gentle flash of blue and sunrise-pink,
The merchant left, and by-wake princess stood,
The goddess Love, Cadenza, in true like,
Her mane awash in colours of the dawn.

At once Sea Nettle bowed, so Tradewind too,
And the others low’d their heads in due address.
Cadenza bid them rise and nobly smiled
Ere giving them the measure of their task.

“My friends, I do lament the subtleties
And pretense woven such to bring us here.
The stallion in my company’s a knight
Sent forth to subdue Chaos through his works.”

All eyes fell then upon the wordless one
Who suddenly, in plates a-lit by day,
Did seem in glory more than prior took
As one diminished by the ruthless road.

“Yon cloud and water ribboned so in dark
I do attribute to the kindless pass
Of Chaos, long a-drift with murky will.
Should Heron help me, it be banishèd.”

No second bidding did the captain need.
They set about, and presently they slipped
Into the Doldrums’ get, where sails go flat
And sun eternal shrouded from the sea.

Kuvuta spake in Quagga, sensing ill
And Bana gave reply in broader tongue:
“The earth is bled beneath a weighted woe,
We feel unrested consciousness below.”

All sound depart, and, breathing stillness in,
Not even waves were there for keel to cut.
The princess brought regard up to the sky,
Then outward o’er glassèd black sent call.

“O sea! O maiden ‘reft of joyful song!
I am thy Love, and hither thee I beck
Yet not with hoof, but voice, like one so sunk
Into the silty earth that crushes hope.”

A time was pass’d, nine murmurs of the heart
Ere ripples born out from the silent wash.
The bosun taciturn, the Prairie Hawk,
Retreat’d slow away to stand at port.

The trimmers two did whicker and befret,
The zebra Bana slight recoiling thence.
“A sea-maid who sings not be Chaos true!
Can bravery alone this curse undo?”

From spray of water dimmed from lack of sun
Emerged sea-pony, coloured coral-like,
Her mane the faded green of tidal-foam.
Into the air was come her full form bare.

A-wetly did she cast upon the deck,
Her scales to set to spectral shimm’ring faint
In morning-light. She looked upon the lot
Before her ‘sembl’d, gaze at last on knight.

The summoner Cadenza knelt a-side
And touch’d her horn against sea-pony’s throat.
Their eyes were shone with magic, both in turn,
And goddess thereupon did speak for her.

“This one hath lost the joy of living on,
For darkness now is visited on all
Who swim with her in depths unseen below.
There be no Mirth for those who dwell in fear.”

The sea-maid pulled herself along the deck
To come and bow before the knight in plea.
No hooves had she, but suchlike fins and tail
As those of fish with whom she shared the world.

“Milady,” said the knight, “I will attend
Thee such as my own met might warrant true.
Confess me, though, I cannot long be ‘moved
From pure-drawn air. How then wouldst have me help?”

She brought herself stood up as much she might,
Yet he was earth-pony, both tall and strong.
The knight put down his head to meet her own,
And thereupon was kiss put to his nose.

A mist-fleck’d tingle ran a-course through him
And sudden did the sea seem closer still
Than ere it had in all his earlier days.
The princess sagely nod and gave explain.

“Unicorns have the sky, and they the sea,
And earth for each the many kindreds ‘twixt,
As Magick doth in splendour take its source
From all of these in strange facetèd ways.”

“A sea-spell, then,” spake knight as armour doff’d,
His raiment so entrusting to Love’s care.
“I’m made to follow her and contend what
Occludes the Mirth from brightening her home.”

“Then here we wait, until thy task be done,”
Said she to him, his armour gathered up.
“Go thou with blessings of the loving Sky,
Restoring Mirth, an Mirth be there to find.”

The upper world was lost in shimmer’d brine,
And in dim sunlight ere descent began,
The knight saw self encased in bubble great
Enough as like within diviner’s ball.

They deeper went, ‘til all the sun was gone
And blackness utter filled periphery.
Sea-pony pulled along her cargo brave
And temper’d true was his unbended will.

They deeper went, and were then met
By eyeless creatures, fell, with scales a-glow
In colours not belonging to the make
Of reason’d gods, in this world or the next.

They deeper went, traversed along the sky
Inverted, where night doth never set,
Where blackness there grows blacker beyond reck
And takes penumbra as its only shade.

They deeper went, lower perchance than all,
To waters Hell itself might drink to quench
The fire eternal, if such were its wont.
A spark of yellow light sat at the floor.

The knight was brought upon that distant fleck
Of colour, like a fire in wilderness.
He there was lit upon a raisèd stone
And made to see the sea-pony cavort.

The serpent woke, and with his open eyes
There were two lights as white as holy snow
Which scatter’d all the life who loves the dark
From their surround in flashes chitinous.

He saw it, then, that stone was not his perch,
In stead the selfsame body of the beast
Which now uncoiled in size no eye could mark.
Anon and nimbly did he move to floor.

“The earth, at last, is come to help the sea!”
The serpent’s voice shook even the abyss.
By light of eyes, the knight saw violet
Its scales, and its hair an orange cloud.

The knight look’d to his maiden, and she held
His gaze in hers to tell all that she might.
The serpent sickly smiled, its moustache twirled
‘Twixt slender claws as it took in the knight.

“Restore the Mirth, which Chaos hoped to drown.
No more doth the Deep Kingdoms ring with joy.
This place, a yellow’d wound upon the world,
Bleeds out the treasured magic of the Sky.”

“The wound is in the earth, and Earth am I,”
Said knight as full perception fell to him.
“So by my passing will I seal it up
And staunch infected wills from taking sway.”

The light was formless and took him in full
When there he did step into it unbid.
An ancient soul with eyes not meant to see
Ask’d him what he, a mortal, offered out.

“In giving, taking, so I see the game.
So be it, I will put to thee my purse:
Return direct her voice, and for that boon
Will I in turn abjure the world of dreams.”

Emotion timeless beat its message out.
“And so accepted, son of earthen keep.
But know thou this, and keep it in thy heart:
The world is old, aye, older sovereigns than
Thy Sisters own who know not what they move
In sooth. A power latent throbs within
All core of things, in thee not least to count.
The imaged sleep, the sacrifice thou metes,
Is stuff of Sky, and for its loss art thou
More child of Mine than ere were thee afore.
His Chaos older still, mayhap, but in
The breath through which thy life shall pass
A keeping old indeed will spring from thee,
An earth-magic antediluvian,
And kin thou sharest with creatures long forgot.”

With such a riddle left, he knew it done.
As he was pony earth, so Earth did mend
Beneath troubled emotion in his breast.
The light was spent, and there was peace again.

A laugh behind him cleared all darkness there
And all beyond, until far could he see
On ridge above a rising citadel,
And all sea-ponies issued from their sanct.

The serpent now did laugh along with her,
A loud and glad-well booming ‘round them all.
With flick of orange moustache did it dance
And swirl about them both with ‘bandoned bliss.

“A-free! A-free! My long-paid toil be done!
So will I go to younger waters hence
And find some sundry means to keep as due.
Sir knight, thy card is colour’d bright indeed!”

It soon away, and whither then it went
Be not the ken of any now who live.
The maiden hied to bring the bubbled knight
Back to the surface, ere was made to stay.

They up, and up, by sea-ponies bechased,
They flocking clamoured for to tribute him.
The sun received them gladly, long await,
As knight left sea on sodden clamber-nets.

So stunn’d, the crew and princess saw the sea
Surround turn blue again, the clouds depart
Beneath the new-born power of the wind.
The sea-maiden again put self to deck.

Her voice was match for Moon in seeming sweet:
“My city be delivered by this one
Who gave up visions in the night’s embrace
To bring my laughter hearty back to me,
Bereft I was of voice for air to breathe.”

The knight spoke not the Chaos she gave court
When she had bargain’d with that time-worn will
Of absent wont and savage energies
That took a serpent great to slumber keep.

As she depart in thanks, the knight took pause;
He heeded neither celebrating crew
Nor Goddess Love. He reckoned silent on
Immortal ken new given mortal home.

The need for Mirth did lead them to a join
Of Earth and Sky, like which the Sisters sprang.
Earth-pony soul did tremble at the feel
Of kindred senses resting down in dark.
> The Deed of Fealty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────THE DEED OF FEALTY──────


bexia, the weather’d home of goats,
Was naught but moors enshrouded far in mists
And lonely rocks which ancient mountains set
When fire made earth and all the world was young.

It met with Wingless Heron on the dawn
Which marked third day from Anchormeet's depart,
And thereupon the knight and princess stepped
Them down to meet the barren blacken’d sand.

So payment full was taken at the shore,
Sea Nettle bowing low along with crew,
For rare it was that royalty would heave
Across the seas as wingless moveth so.

A weeded path set them to Caprahall,
In which was sat a duke in bypast days,
Yet long-placed years erodes on wisdom’s word
And puts in stead a bleak and specter’d thought.

The knight and princess made a course anon
Far inland where no trees had wont to stand.
Familiar soil wish’d to keep them fast,
And from the fens were they pulled close to earth.

“Too soft and welcoming, this peatèd ground!”
Said knight as hard was sought to keep his pace.
“My princess, fain would I have thee take up
To sky and soil not thy gilded hooves.”

A chide from Love gave lightness to his fret:
“No milksop, I, as so in Anchormeet,
Though truly be there strife in this traverse.
Let’s keep the course and give our best account.“

The lowlands of the coast gave soon to hills
And watching mountains, sentinel in mist,
Which gave horizons teeth to chew the sky
As rocks abound now drew them to a path.

“I bid thee soft; 'tis plain that we are watched,”
Said low the knight to his companion fair.
“No saddle hence could still my standing coat,
Nor gentle words relieve uneasy thoughts.”

“The mist grows thicker, lo, as we do speak!”
Said soft Cadenza with her lower’d ears,
“The mist be not of earth, yet 'tis of sky?
What sorceress could wright a fog so fell?”

“A chill, too, as ye pass up tae the mount,”
Came presently a gruff and scoring voice,
“Ba grace ye be nae hairm’d, yet still in chance
Ere nicht befawen there mey be bluid tae loose.”

Awhirl was looked by both of the ponies
With only rock espied to claim the words.
“A goat now speaks! Yet pray, my lord, we see
Thee not, and so would have thee shown in turn.”

“A laird be A? Anon A’ll hae a laugh
Ahint the duke’s auld ear has had a fill!
A see ye, full on, aye, a stallion stark
And ane as fair and pink as sunrise-blush.”

A halfscore goats gave form out from the mist
And at their head stood tall a fearsome bill.
Around his neck a hunting-horn was lash’d,
Betwixt his eyes was set a crossèd scar.

“A tribute do ye hae fer oor duke’s wont?
We’re nae hospitable in practice, yet
Sic rarity do others come a-call
That wirds of visitors mey be well come.”

The knight put forward smart a single hoof
And brought low a somber face before the goat.
“Confess me that I’ve naught to offer up
Save food and audience from yonder borne.”

The goat did snort and paw but once aground.
“It mey be ‘nough tae keep yer heid attach’d
Whaur ears can heark and een can still behold,
But it be fer the duke tae claim his just.”

They now were under charge, two ducal guests,
And haste were given escort to the mount.
The bill who bore three horns stood at the van,
With all the silent others at each side.

The air brought cold, as promised, as they crept
Upon snow-trails so faint they chanced to be
But shared illusion looked-for by those such
Whose hooves ere then knew only grass and cloud.

A fall of snow beset them as they climbed;
Though gentle 'twas, and silent, still it put
A freeze unto the armour of the knight,
Yet Love’s own rose-gold crown would brook no frost.

In thinning air, at last, they came to be
Before a well-appointed great hall’s door.
The walls were wrought from season’d lumber-cut,
The roof from strongly-woven highland hemp.

About them was a shiv’ring hamlet, stowed
Away by palisade from winter’s bite.
Some bills and nans were tending larders’ stocks,
But most were hid away to hearths and beds.

The three-horn goat, reflective, preen’d his beard.
“Keep mind, ma buck, and speak but smartlike wirds;
Guid humour nou is rarer still a guest
Tae him than thee, so mark this coonsel well!”

They entered then to respite from the slight
And clawing edge of wind at mountain’s foot.
A close and haggard court were found within
As though to wring out warmth from pride alone.

The duke himself was sejant at the back
Upon a dais, which, in its surround,
Appointments were of silk and selfsame wool,
Come as it had from Caprahall’s own backs.

“Ma laird, A’ve come up from the wet
A-gift with hoofèd kindred put ashore
From land o’ Sun and Muin, two gentle kind
A mark them. Nou, tae bid they gie their names—”

“We bid them nae!” the duke was stood to shout.
“Yairn we hae, yet yairns we need in these,
Oor days of cauld and hated perfidy.
A name be nae sore needed whaur A sit.”

“And perfidy be wherefore we are come,”
Was quick the knight’s words. “Verily, I am
Put to right whate’er upsets a friend,
Impeding as it would fair Harmony.”

“A be nae kid, indeed, A hae ma horns!
So think yeself tae be the foremaist knicht
Tae issue from Equestria’s lang reach?
The Sun, She e’er middles in oor times!”

The knight made rear and trod the air a breath.
“Illusions I keep not, even in rest!
I have erewhile sold out that precious scape
Which giveth gladness unto tired hearts.
A deep’ning bitterness doth issue more
Than knights from Canterlot, as I behold
A riven duchy, frozen in its pride.
Thou speakest ‘perfidy’, but tell me here
Who perfidy’s own wounds are made to bear!
Be it thee, or art thou but the knife
Which cuts a bleeding furrow from the land
And makes thy subjects then to live so rent,
So cloven as thy hooves? Then what of guilt,
And peoples who would have a mended hurt
Made out of sundry quarrels entertain’d?”

The court went blanch in fear for what they saw
As such affront that would cost one his blood
And life beyond, perhaps, an humours kept
In balance poor, as winter’s custom held.

“Ye stallion stood, in bold and proodlike air!
Ye seekst tae make me wroth! Hou fatuous,
Yet, aye, A ken cælestial designs
Upon thy candour, lorn as it may be.

“Ibexia be rent by partisans,
A faction led by ma ain arms-brither.
They dwall upon the summit high abuin
Whilst daftlike he pretends towards ma croun.”

The knight kept wit, betraying not his thoughts.
“Shall I to them, and parley for thy half?
Though hardy be the goat-folk of thy land,
A winter even there would slay them all.”

The duke spat out, and turned his back to them.
“Tae come doon off it nou would slay him too,
As A’d hae his ain heid on palisade,
Yet sooth be with ye in yer clear designs.
Go furth, an that is whit ye wish,
And speak tae him, but all tae meet ye there
Will scorn and anger be, so as A mark.
A wish nae bluid, but bluid A’ll sooner hae
Than brou of mine withoot a croun tae keep.”

“So chill seeps in and out, as it must be,”
Then gentle spake the knight as he stepp’d back.
“The bitter biting moves from coat to chest
And stirs a heart which ought to resteth there.”

He gave depart, with Love, and there they made
Ascent the mountainside, with none along.
Cadenza stayed Her close to the knight’s side
And in the shroud of cold gave tutelage.

“Thou thinkst I know it not, the common cause,”
Said She, “in being as I am, a goddess true,
Made from the stuff of stars, ere memories,
And elevated up by ponykind,
Yet verily I know the lurch of class
And envy that one has on others borne.
I know thy love—i’faith, I know all loves
And bitterness, like cold, to high are look’d,
An upswept wind of malcontent below.”

“Dost thou?” said sharp the knight, his mane gone hard
From that strange winter which the goats had wrought.
“My love is for a noblemare, and I,
Too base and earthen for her sneering dam,
Am given colours only in secret,
Her eyes beset with guilt as it is done.
Yet wherefore, I so ask, is the sky seen
As higher still than earth in earthly things?
Her magic, there, or thine, I have no need:
An we be wed, would I still be her shame?
Would I go to her courts, or she to mine,
Her grace to flag within low company?”

The Princess of all Love looked through the white
To see Ibexia’s assaulted top.
“An these six deeds be seen out to their ends,
No nobler knight than thee would court attend.”

As one of earth, the knight gave good account
And proved himself too hardy for the climb
To turn him back and seek out Fealty
Where wings might master winds and horns the cold.

The summit pushed away the cutting gale
And showed to them a glit’ring spire of snow
Which there within was set a threshold slight,
Cut from the side o’er epochs long forgot.

The knight look’d to his single company.
“No creature, neigh, not even one from goats
Could long abide in bareness to the wild
Such as we find it here. Let us approach.”

They stole into the cavern, where out-doors
Could not assail their coats or frost their manes.
The passage in was close and bore them down,
Their heads made low like pilgrims to a shrine.

The cavern-room to which they came at last
Held there a score of stain’d and wretchèd goats,
Their horns cut from their heads, down to the last,
No spirit to be seen in eyes or deed.

A mighty bill, far larger than the lot,
Stood to and fix’d the knight’s eyes to his own.
“Seek not well come, ye pony, so A say
The Sun sends ye insteid of Her ain light!”

The knight befirm’d his hooves, his quarter kept.
“The Sun is here a’ready, but thou seest
It not, for mistrust turns it now away.
It shines—now goats must wish to be shined ‘pon.”

Cadenza kept Her tongue, but a young doe
Took long Her countenance and then stepp’d forth
To place herself betwixt the knight and bill.
She made a curtsy facing the princess.

“A peace, ma laird, A pray that ye find peace!
Afore us be the highness true of Love
Hersel, the brichtest star of morn there be!
Tae see a prayer so answered, we be bless’d!”

The goddess bid her rise with Her own hoof,
Her smile to melt the bill’s own anger down.
“I’faith, my friends, I am that selfsame Love
Attending now to thee to see cares eased.”

The bill gave deference but to the mare.
“And whit of this’un here, who’s fashion’d naught
Of presences but challenge-wirds
A’m like to answer smart, aye, whit of him?”

The knight look’d strong to him and raised his head.
“Thou art the other general, I see,
And object of the careless tempest spewn
As speech in harden’d hearts when they be wronged.”

Princess Cadenza made to speak before
More harshness then could fly ‘twixt hardened minds.
“He be my knight, though not mine to command;
An Fealty is gone, he shall restore.”

The bill looked to the doe with careful eyes,
A chilling heat or heatèd chill was there,
In equal parts of love and judgement plain
To all who dote and lament o’er the same.

“A maiden then did truly pray her heart
Tae Goddess Muin, the Princess of the Nicht
That She would send a pony oot tae we
Who dwyne in close and new uncertainty.
O faur ben pony, thirlt tae serve the Sky,
Yer bonnie princess names ye Her ain knicht,
So ye must tilt, or nae knicht can ye be.
Ye meet me, or ye bring nae Fealty
Tae here whaur wirds canna be made tae turn
A lust for pouër tae humility.”

“An I defeat,” said knight, “then speak it plain
The matters which gave rise to bitter brows.
An thou defeatest, then we shall away
And leave Ibexia to what may pass.”

The two turned then a-piece to their own side
And bid a colour there to champion.
Cadenza gave a ribbon from Her mane,
The doe a kerchief from about her neck.

“I see thy cares,” low whispered then the knight,
“Yet this be sole and solely tournament;
The selfsame reason Thou wouldst colours bear
Be now wherefore I tilt to honour them.”

The contest, as it was, could but be held
Out-doors where still the angry winter raged.
The duelists there were girt a blunted lance
Atop two saddles worn from honest use.

The bill pawed once and ducked his hornless head.
“A be pretender tae Ibexia,
A tilt nou fer ma claim and colours these,
Tae ken an ye be whit oor hearts doth need.”

The knight made bow and raised him up again.
“I be a knight of fair Equestria,
I tilt now for my love, and Love Herself,
To give out Fealty and earn my weal.”

The charge and strike came true and swift upon
Each other, bardings split and shatter’d points set fly
Out into boiling skies, for-ever gone.
The goat was on his side, and so had lost.

The knight stood over him with raisèd hoof.
“And dost thou yield?” spake he in such a voice
Princess Cadenza had not erewhile heard,
A met a-brooking none but martial thought.
“Aye, verily, A yield,” said gruff the bill.
“A name yer colours championed, so haste
Us back inby whaur we can rest us doon
And A’ll unfold the measure of oor tale.”

“In turn I name thy colours honoured well,
Upheld in chivalry and valour’d state.”
The ponies then made follow after him
As storms did quicken there behind their path.

They there within reposed and took comfort
Whilst all the host of goats convened a-round
To hear how their grim leader might recount
The way the goat-lands had come under strife.

“‘Twas the deith of oor last duke tae set it so,
The duchess of oor land, she fell tae ill.
No hardness did a soul e’er hold tae her.
A canny-nanny, aye, by all accoont!”

The goats in the surround gave bleating laughs
At that small lightness that the bill had brought
In both the heavy den within their hearts
And that which gave them shelter from the ice.

“The croun, upon a deith, is brought up high
Tae then await a new brou ‘pon tae sit.
Tae croun a duke, one sheds both horns as sic
Fer that be but the way a goat can pass
On throu yon passageway, as ye hae come.
A, ready strong, did shed ma horns so that
The croun could be kept safe abuin whilst we
Saw oot the mourning-time and gave oor tears.
Alas that she’d nae issue tae give reign!
Ma comrade, then, he named hissel the duke
And made me tae go fetch the croun from here,
As he did coont hissel the wiser one,
Though A, i’faith, be of same rank as he.
A did ascend, but nae tae bring a croun!
With force of will he vied, for he be virr,
And banished all ma faithful here tae me.
So here we languish'd whilst we plied oor woe
And ye are come at last, guid providence,
Tae ease us in oor hunger and oor want.
They fear him, aye, they dare no harmful act
Tae swift remuive him from his ill-kept throne!
Ye must unseat him, pony, by the sword.”

With shake of mane, the knight refused at once.
“But neigh! I swore to Sun and Moon alike
I would not put a blade to any foe.
The lady’s prayer was Fealty, not blood.”

The bill was steel’d, his eyes gone cold again.
“Nae Fealty, there, but sole ambition be
What within him dwalleth in these days.
He’d hence ken naught but steel tae soothe his will!“

“There beeth deeds apart from war and words,”
Said soft the knight as Love gave gentle looks.
“That court be one of ill ease and of fear,
And thence can cometh such no wholesome rule.”

The knight then bid the doe whom Moon favoured
To come with him and Love down back the mount
That there his deed of Fealty might set
Ibexia to course on warmer days.

The bill was also bid to come and stand
Before his grim usurper with no crown
Between them. In this way the knight did put
His plan to practice, trusting to their good.

Though sour’d on this, the bill knew privilege
So given to a victor. He agreed
To move in step behind and  trust to him
And Goddess Love the rule of days ahead.

Through burning cold the four returned to him
To stand before two generals’ great ire.
They fain would have commenced a battle there
If not for Love’s petition to their hearts.

“O sirs, I do call out to threaded wits
And patience that thou hast for matters thus.
My knight doth mean to see this storm abate
And great Ibexia with a warm throne.”

“Whit farce be this, are we tae duel it here?”
Said strong the elder, backing to the throne.
“Withoot the croun, A hae nae pouer, true,
But swift A’d gore this ain whom mercy tests!”

The knight put out his game for all to hear:
“This mission be of Fealty, i’faith,
And now we’ll see what Fealty there is
Within these bills, and with what it might lay.
I call for tablets two, of scribing clay,
With one then given a pretender each.
A faithful from each court will bear witness
To scribing of the other side’s response,
Yet hidden from us all beside. And so,
They then will turn and face and show their mark:
A square affirms their claim, a line doth yield.
If both should yield, then the crown shall pass
To whosoever maiden sent the prayer
Beseeching such attention from the Moon
That She would send to thee one of Her knights.
If both should press, then Chaos will but win,
Ibexia here left to freeze and die
In winters everlasting, sent by Him.”

“And whaurfore should we honour each other
Instead of bringing it tae bluid at last
Where ain’s a heid to hold a croun on up
And t’ither missing his tae do the same?”

Cadenza’s mane then glowed but for a beat
Of all the hearts assembled in witness:
“Chaos doth smile long upon this land;
A duke so won is duke of but a tomb.”

The looming weight of His disharmony
Then pressed upon them all. The tablets came,
And there the two pretenders turned their backs
And made their marks apiece on rubbing-clay.

The doe bore witness to the elder, and
One of his faction did the same in turn.
It was but moments ere the game was done
And then in unison they turn’d about.

“Thou now shalt show thy marks,” cried out the knight,
“And let the spoils of this game decide
Who thinks the more or same of Fealty.”
And so, the generals put down their lots.

Cadenza reared and whinnied out in joy.
“O pages, pages! Hie thee out and seek
What maiden called up to the Sky in care
And bring her hither, so she may be crowned!”

A nanny bustled in to Caprahall:
“Ma lairds, ma lairds, the storm be dith’rin’ oot!
The sky a’ready shows oot blue and clear,
The muntain-peak nou soon will kythe itsel!”

A festive uproar burst out from the goats
And even the two generals. Anon,
The hornless on the summit wended down
And with them came the crown, the tidings good.

Two days passed then in healing festival,
With hurts set out to heal and hearts to warm
As strong did too the sky and harden’d ground
The season now allowed its glad retreat.

The maiden was an inward-seeming doe
Who was of grace unlooked-for ‘mongst them all,
A quiet wisdom seemed to gild her thoughts,
Her speech at once a clear and humble song.

On third day she was there the duchess crowned,
The generals both pledging Fealty
In confidence to serve Ibexia.
And, after coronation, the knight did speak:

“My gentle goat-folk, here be given thee
What Harmony would have us all protect.
Though yea, my princesses be powerful,
They are the servants of Equestria,
The peoples put before their rulers fair.
Thou canst not rule or be ruled well in fear,
Regret or lamentation for what be.
Hold not thy Fealty to any one,
But to the land thou sharest in company.
This doe—her thoughts were for Ibexia,
Not for this goat or that one’s will to rule.
No comfort here was stowed up for her thoughts;
Such was her desperation that she brought
Concerns immortal to the Sun and Moon.
No thought she gave ambition, or of gain,
Just peace and Harmony to thee enthrall.
The generals who vied them for the crown
Forgot their love of country, but ‘twas there,
A blade of grass left with’ring in the frost.
They could recall it, though, when they were pressed
To choose between that waxing want and how
The sacrifice of Fealty would doom
Their land and all her lives within.
So follow them, I bid thee—do the same.”

The elder general addressed the court.
“A new bluid-line begins this selfsame day!
Oor duchess nou will need oor service such
Tae ready fer a springtime thaw anon!“

The revelry was fading from the ears
Of two small ponies walking east to chase
The sunrise and another deed
Which lay with those bereft of Harmony.

A humour found Cadenza, and ere long
She close beheld the knight with quiet muse.
The gaze of mares did quick besot the knight;
He flushed as he at last Her purpose asked.

“O knight, a game! ‘Tis how their hope was brought!
Is Harmony now set upon caprice
And chance of lots or other fancies hence?
If generals would both stand firm, what then?“

The knight brought warmth into a sullen soul
With such a smile that She Herself was put
A-back within its perfect clarity,
A nascent, strange potential saw her there.

“Neigh, verily, I ken the met of those
Who serve and those to service given without strife.
They would not ever have both dug in pikes
In knowing such a price would come to call.
Neigh, better that the other then should reign
Than precious fleeing days of bitter will
In power, there to die with all his love.
In Fealty be trust, and they forgot
The trust of comrades, brothers of the sword,
I promise thee, O princess, as they look’d
Upon those earthen tablets, giving weight
To their apiece desires, they recalled:
‘The other shareth love, so I will love.
The other wisheth peace, so I make peace.’
And like Thy presence in a looking-glass,
They saw within themselves the other goat
Ere lures of power beckon’d him to stray
To madd’ning thoughts of golden heavy crowns.
Now there anew their duty’s set once more:
To ease the weight of power on the wise
And gentle heart of goodly lands,
And be the breastplate where within it beats.
In Fealty be trust, as I of them.“

And, after days, the eyries came with dawn.
It was the Greifland, home of griffin-folk,
A stern and proud race of the beaten sky,
Long pony-friends and enemies in turn.

The get of Chaos weakened on their thoughts,
Which turned instead to levity and hope,
The rain by which all Harmony doth bud
Into the bonds of friendship and of love.
> Interlude
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────────INTERLUDE──────────


nder the great unceasing watch of Sky,
Brought now into the house of Goddess Moon,
The wearied maiden, holding our knight’s heart,
Looked long to where Cadenza’s star might show.

An all those stars could gather in her eyes
‘Twould still but be a pin-light ‘neath the flame
Of clarity and fast, unyielded faith
Presented there for Night to smile upon.

Her balcony, in fetching opulence,
Bricked white in livery of Canterlot,
Was like unto a donjon’s lonesome wall
Which caged a treasure desperate within.

A-glow of blues and whites was cast it all,
Spread out below and nodding in the still
And heady air of summer’s waning sigh,
Yet sleep could find no purchase on her mind.

A thought so long befriended might recoil,
Becoming enemy to peaceful souls.
The maiden conjured courage such to pray,
That she might dareth then to speak Her name:

“O Luna! bring me sleep, and then attend
My dreams in confidence. My love,
He be afield on some errand stern,
And at his back a darkness doth give hunt.”

Her dam was at the door and gave reply:
“A foal be here! A rash, persistent foal!
What clamour couldst she hope to have at beck
Such as to curry notice of the Moon?”

The maiden turned about and bowed her head.
“I fain would give thee peace, my mother true,
Yet sooner could I make a stone to swim
Than well deny what Love hath put to me.”

They crossed their horns in greeting, and were sat.
“No order has he, not for all his works.
Thou canst not lift him up, not for all thine.
A courtly mage doth not consort with steel!”

“And thus he be so mark’d as steel alone?
He be a stallion; I would be his mare.
Thy cool dissuasions doth not weather me—
An I were archmage highest, I’d be his.”

A graveness ‘pon the elder mare did fall.
“Art thou the darkness that thy sense doth tell?
Thou drivest him unwit unto an end
Thou wouldst not have of him. Let Love first age.”

The maiden whinnied, eyes beset with sting.
“What injury would mothers visit here
Upon their daughters, wanting only light?
What wishest thou? What buys thy happiness?”

The dam made stand. “‘Tis simple, issue mine:
A gentle-colt of gentle breeding, sought
For his fair blood and for his alicorn,
As which we have and which our line secures.“

“That prideful lot!” cried she and turned her back.
“Sufferance have we, yet suffrage not
With ‘tother, so in turn we suffer both.
Good night, my mother, so I bid to thee.”

Ere taking leave, she tarried in the door.
“Prayst thou not lightly to the Sun and Moon.
No mares-in-waiting, they, to brush thy mane,
But proper goddesses, with great concerns.”

The maiden young retired, taking sleep
At last for hers, and so she swift did dream.
There Moon was come, with gladness in Her count,
And fashion’d out a parlour for their meet.

As though to spite her mother, Moon saw out
To brush the selfsame maiden’s snowy mane
Ere they conferred. A moment there was kept
But for tranquility and fellowship.

Too soon for either—even in the realm
Of thought and images doth moments pace.
The maiden thereupon took audience,
Perceiving in her self a waxing fear.

“Mine home, O Moon, it seems a gaol now!
The sprint of time recedes beneath its pall
And to mine agonies are left to fend.
Where goeth he, my love, and wherefore go?
He canst not call, nor come, nor I to him,
And magicks mine cannot seek out his dreams.
Canst thou? Thou art the Night Herself, i’faith,
And queen of all the dream-world there beside.
My Moon, my princess, I thee here entreat
A mighty boon, an souls be payment, take!
Whatever favour could I win from thee,
In days or in a lifetime, spend it here!
A wisdom, scant of words, to ease my fret
And balm the hope I harbour for our fate.”

The Moon said naught, but nudged her with Her nose
And bid her lie and rest upon the silks.
She laid Her then beside and brought Her neck
Down on the maiden’s, comforting with weight.

The dream fair wept with what the goddess sang,
The maiden too was haunted by its strain.
Yet plain, however, was the answer gave:
The Sky would ne’er forsake a single soul.

“Alas that thou art made to waver here
Whilst thither far thy knight has made a course!
He questeth now to make his mettle clear
And, at the Sky’s behest, eschew remorse.
We bid him stay, but will be like his Earth,
Abundant and determined in its lot.
The quest be for him but to prove his worth;
From thee and thine be favour ever sought.
Cadenza questeth with him, Love shall learn
Herself of Harmony and how it grows.
Pray fortune finds him well for his return,
And that no darkness reaps what knighthood sows.
He gave out of himself, and now a void.
I can not scry his dreams—they are destroy'd.”

“Fie upon his quest! I pine for him,
Not rather for his deeds! Wherefore his fret?
I am a-ready his, not to be won!
O Moon, prithee give comfort ‘til the dawn.”

The Princess Moon soft smiled on her charge.
“‘Tis more the mystery of stallions’ minds
That they should be yet better than they are.
Thy love doth keep no comfort for himself.“

More songs were then sung in that patient scape
Known only to the Moon and maiden there.
No waking ears could since or now give heark
To such a beauty lingering in dreams.
> The Deed of Benevolence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


────THE DEED OF BENEVOLENCE────


ar up on high did there the griffins wright
Their eyries strong, a towered city vast
Of lonely ancient trees, each one apart
Within the bearest recall of an eye.

The Greifland was a wold of tall-grown grass,
Bespotted as it was with copses lush,
And those same colossi of tow’ring trees
A-piece held noble houses at their tops.

A deluge now beset it, batt’ring so
That even eyrie-trees could but adjure
For mercy as their roots were sopped in hate
And hateful waters loosing out the Earth.

The knight’s own heavy hooves were mired in,
His fetlocks saturate with Sky-born tears
As he was by-stood, stoic, in the rain.
Cadenza, Princess Love, was at his side.

Her horn glow’d strong in pleasant colours, such
To call up to a hostess far above.
The knight pawed strongly once, averting eyes,
But yielding to what wisdom touch’d Her mind.

The griffins there anon were come, in three,
Two tiercels with a matron at the van.
No words were spake, in stead the ponies brought
Themselves in humbleness to play the guest.

The matron lowed her head to Princess Love.
“I name us here hosts of Equestria,
But ere we so ascend, prithee forbear
Thy spells and spell-craft as a courtesy.”

Though hardy, both tiercels were made to bring
Their strength in fullest measure for the knight,
As he, well-thewed and girt so deep with steel,
Made steady burden for those born of wing.

With he a-loft, the matron gave attend
To fair Cadenza as they climbed the rain.
The clouds were never broke, not even as
They came at last unto the highest perch.

Before them was a tavern, modest-made,
Beyond it the great keep for their tree’s court.
The matron hied them in to dry their coats,
And on the sight of them the room was stirred.

The faces there of desp’rate gravity
Struck such to stay the knight from giving meet
Until his hostess bid them so to speak
Their own accounts of wherefore they had come.

“We name thee Morgenstern, O Love, for Thou
Art known to us.” The matron bow'd again.
“This stallion I perceive to be a friend
And so we Greife welcome him in turn.”

The princess, ever graceful, gave their meet.
“And Ingrid Freifrau von Grün be well met!
Mine aunts hath favour with thee and the clans
To east and south of here, as so recall’d.”

“May favour hold us, then, in what may come!
My niece Gerlinde plead out to the Sky
‘O ponies! sisters sure of Sun and Moon,
Burn off our tears which filleth lungs of life
In seeking thence to drown us in its rage!’
So They did answer us, and sent us love
And Love beside, with solitary knight.
‘Tis plain conceit Thou markst what vexeth us:
I’m baroness of greenery no more—
The verdure of our hunting-grounds be gone.
Know well an this persisteth, we will die,
My clan, die Grüne Kralle, must have meat,
And game must be allow’d to take its grass,
Yet all is flooded, and the earth be silt.
I see thee, knight, yet steel doth naught but draw
The lightning from a cruelty on high.
The sky and Sky alike be closed to us.”

The knight rose up his head. “Baroness wise,
Mine accolade was pass’d from Sky’s own hooves,
Mine armour from the smithies of the Earth.
Betwixt it both be us and Harmony.”

A mighty tiercel burst in from the rain
And shook the wat’ry lashes from his cloak.
“A goodly span of words, but words alone!
No keener lance than grief can pierce the heart.“

Cadenza made a curtsy to the door.
“My knight—Ernst, consort of the baroness,
The bravest of the western Luftrittern
Who served a people in a dire need.”

The griffin Ernst von Grün regarded him
With peerless value of those savvy eyes
So found in all his kin. His mien was light,
His feathers joyous ruff’d in levity.

“I’faith, I ken his look, a colt no more!
Thou wast the arming-squire of Brigandine,
And I recall thy service at his side
On long campaigning in the Grevyi Veldts.”

At this those so assembled gave a shout:
“A lied, herr pony! Give us now a song,
Or tales of winsome valour such we’d know
The met of what the Sky doth send to us!”

The boister’d griffin brought him close to breast,
His talons strong yet strongly genial,
A bond of comrades won in misery
And tasting bloodied bitter-sweetness strong.

“We Greife, though known more for war than peace,
Have Minnesängern cheered through all the world,
Our claws as given to the lute as spears!
Good Arnulf be a studied wright of song.”

The stallion thereupon began his tale;
The griffins for their part arrayed to heark,
The minstrel Arnulf giving company
To words with strings as rafters drummed from rain.

“My sire was a miller, grinding meal,
My dam pressed grapes for vintners in the spring.
Apprenticeships I could ne’er brook for long,
For though I be of Earth, given its might,
All thought and wit of mine be bent to serve
The Sky, as now. In colthood did I page
For barons and for counts in Canterlot,
Appraising court and courtesy to take
The solemn audience of Sisters’ eyes.
As so the baroness’s consort spake,
A knightly pegasus, named Brigandine,
Did taketh me beneath his very wing
As he perceived some whit of quality
In how I plied my service. Low in birth,
Without a peerage, as my master had,
Sir Brigandine petition’d for my way
And I became his squire, in a trust.
The get of Earth be vigour, as ‘tis known,
To there hold up creation to the Sky
In tribute, not in offering, so it
Beeth my gift to give my gentle Crown.
We made campaigns, and we bore swords for Them.
Sir Brigandine! in valour wert thou slain,
Thy life gave up in gladness to the deer,
And sealing thence a friendship evergreen.
In proving out my might, I then was struck
With blade of silver first, the sword of Moon,
And then a blade of gold for Sister Sun,
And thereupon a knight was I be-come.
‘Twas brought to bear as well it might be brought,
And I confess to blood shed in Their names,
Of mine and those a-like. Oft battled I,
Gave score to wickèd ponies, jewel-hounds,
And to thy kinsfolk in our warring days,
I took them all, of wizardry or wing,
Or earth as mine. The dragon Kulurok,
Who blight’d out the southern continent,
Was full in measure paid upon my watch.
Our marshal, Poplar Ridge, did loose its soul,
But lo, the matter had my steady hoof.
Of late, this Love’s attend I’m meant to be,
Her fiat now hath seized me for Her own
And, plucking promises from wind as leaves,
She thralls my heart, bound to another one,
And hers to mine. I now quest for my worth,
And for thy Harmony restored to thee.”

The knight made bow, and seeping quietness
Unfurl’d itself in terse leaden regard
To how the sky, from Chaos dolorous,
Might there, in irony, mourn them to death.

The griffin-minstrel Arnulf took new song,
Restoring there a fragment of the soul
And inculcating hope to his surround.
The griffins turn’d back to their mead and wine.

Gerlinde was amongst them, cloak’d and girt,
Though none had mark’d her silent entrance there,
A beautied youth of feathers tinged with green
As ferns in sprout. She soft addressed the knight.

“So thou art come, sir knight, and Morgenstern,
Imparting strength to frustrate scarcity
In needful hours. I would help in this.”
The Princess Love saw there a fallen crest.

“Then treat with me, my fetching warrior!
So whither goes the fierce alacrity
I saw a-like in thine own uncle here?
In friendship is there magick, here to serve.”

The knight fell to Her side. “My maiden strong,
A prayer brings not the Sky, the hope in stead
Behind whate’er be utter’d. Rancour tests
Thee here, Benevolence its antidote.”

The baroness Ingrid clack’d once her beak.
“Knowst thou, O Morgenstern, what misgives us:
That magick be forfended heretofore
As Greife have no met in its conduct.”

Her consort Ernst was dulled by her. “I’faith,
What age of innocence could taketh us
In near days or in days that we could see?
The world be steel, and steel doth sway the world.
That magick and empyreal designs
Delivereth the low to Harmony
Be yet a yarn to us, Equestrian.“

Unwaver’d was the knight to Gerlinde:
“And yet thy prayer was magick in itself
To call to us, so prithee entertain
Our int’rest. Speak what steel resolveth not.”

The warrior held up a scaly claw.
“A beat, sir knight, and hearken to the rain.
It counts the sentence by its droplets cold,
Relenting not in its severity.”

The knight’s own ears gave heark as was he bid.
“How now that we divert? We linger here,
Though verily as thou hast mark’d to me
Unceasing rain would reign and rain on still.”

Gerlinde fondly look’d upon her peer.
“So japes hast thou! Our own joy wilteth long,
For those new furies keeping now a-loft
Be not die Grüne Kralle in their make.”

“Then truly we remove ourselves from that
Which hath the use of us! A Luftritter
Thou art, I so perceive, as uncle thine;
Let us away to what clan thou speak’st of.”

“Die Weiße Kralle  be our suzerain,
The Herzog there, named Selig, at its head.
Their people suffer ‘neath his raging lash.
He poureth hate upon the peace-like way.”

Then Love look’d to the penetrating grey
And saw no ending but calamity.
“This rain be his, then. Chaos taketh him,
Yet whence his ire? Be all reason gone?“

The griffin-maiden of the Green Claw laugh’d.
“I dare not hope,” spake she, “for respite borne
To one whose froth of cruelty be now
The mantle of his subjects. Luftrittern
Be loyal to the Greife, not to him,
And marry! doth that matter kindle it.
Our wont of war be now a melting shoal
In rising waters as our Lieder turn
In stead to joys of loving and of wine,
And days pass’d soft in budding Harmony.
For him, he seeth might diminishèd,
A Föderation of simp’ring whelps
Without a taste for game or conquest held.”

The knight’s eyes shut to steal a moment’s thought.
“His desert in this torrent is nigh come,
His choler stirring more than low lament.
We must to him, ere all his clan be slain.“

Gerlinde found his humour buoyant, though
She took in fear this portent from the Earth.
“I hold to this no quick dubiety,
Yet I would have no battle in our lands.”

The knight did whinny, so denying it.
“Not he, rather the pure effects of what
He bringeth down upon the innocence
A-round him. Neigh, his home will come to earth.”

“So ‘tis for us,” spake Love, “but haste we need.
An my good knight hath drawn uneasiness
From tree and ground, then souls are on the block,
There to be rent an we keep idle here.”

Ingrid, then, and Ernst, did make attend
In due concern for what the knight had said.
The large tiercel look’d to his niece and brought
His spear to bear as he prepared to fly.

“Mein Nichte, rouse the Luftrittern to us!
An Earth bespeaks a peril to the tree
Of Selig Herzogs rule, we swift must act!”
She took his wisdom, bearing it out-doors.

“Bear me, my lord,” spake then the knight to him.
“I have not wings, but I would come along.
An thou wouldst bring me up before the duke,
Mayhap I could yet speak him down from wrath.”

“So might we all!” spake Ingrid, turning there.
“O Greife! an thou beest of mettle just
Then scatter thee and fly to all who’d hear
Of what befalls thy neighbours! To the sky!”

Cadenza nodded as they made depart.
“The Chaos quickens like an unborn foal,
And so would move to fasten on His will.
I’ll fly with thee, my knight, and tutor thee.”

The eyrie easy left the sight of all
Amongst the current of that heavy sky.
The knight, though stout, was lightly borne by Ernst,
Himself a griffin of a hardy make.

A-cross the heaving storm the knight could see
In muster threescore griffins on the wing;
Gerlinde, Ingrid, Arnulf and a host
Of bolden’d Green-Claw clansfolk flying strong.

“So cometh now the lesson,” Love did say.
“We bring us to an anger without steel
To meet it, as in measure with thy vow.
The griffins have no magicks of their own
And fierce reprove its practice in their lands.
I too am then beholden to an oath,
And sense mine own discomfort to withhold
Those sure and sure-like mainstays I command.
It grows our strength in searching shoots of leaves
Which spreadeth out and greeteth all the rain
‘Til they be drown’d. So must it be in love,
Antithesis of war, thy mastery.
A love is gentle, even in the squalls
Of passion and abandon buffeting;
Thou must not sink into a fury’s depth
And give thyself to zeäl in the strifes
Which call for temperance, and this thou knowst.
But know it for love too! An thou couldst speak
Upon a tempest, turning it to draughts
Without thy steel as thou art call’d to do,
Then be thou readied for a mare’s embrace,
For being steadiness in any storm.”

“Would not that I be passionless?” said he.
“It ever serves the mastery of self
To have a fury when a fury’s due
And mortal stoicism as one might.”

Cadenza’s gaze burn’d out in love to him,
A radiance no rain would hope to seal.
“Thy ken of pain be far, and test’d well;
The heights of joy in love may sterner prove.”

“Do mark her plea, my fellow,” then spake Ernst,
“That in’t be silver’d chains which could adorn
A lover’s neck, or weigh it, no less full
Of beauty in the act, save in thine eyes.”

He laugh’d and drank the rain-water of it.
“Joy to be fear’d? Then wherefore love commands
All those a-round me who glad give to it
In fullest measure, though they wilt from pain?”

“A fear that’s known is but anxiety
Which cometh then to pass or not to pass,
But look us now! the closing White-Claw tree
Be soon upon us, and I here depart.”

As Goddess Love and griffins sought the low
And common branches of the White-Claw’s tree,
The knight and Ernst were come unto the keep
Where Selig roosted, holding court for none.

“When all are saved, I will come back to thee,”
Said Ernst, the mightiest of Luftrittern.
“An thou art slain, may Sun commendeth thee
To what slow rest awaits the valourous.”

“I give a good account in all I do,”
Said then the knight. “In this, the least of which
Be to assure no quarrel musters such
To thwart compassion pressing them to live.”

Then Ernst made off, the knight left there alone
A-top the keep, with walls of stone in sky,
Borne down throughout the colossus to Earth
Where claws of Chaos dug a ruin’s bed.

Duke Selig soon was found within his court,
His throne a mass of splinters, he himself
A vision of the haggard tithe the cruel
Take from themselves in playing out their wont.

No crown was borne, nor scepter in his claw,
And erstwhile alabaster feathers now
Seem’d there but pallid, voided of their life
As though a mourning lingered o’erlong.

His voice was but a croak, bent so by cries
Of blinding heat as all a-round was torn:
“My little pony, thou at last art come.
I scentèd thee ere any of my kind.”

“I’m on a mission for Benevolence,”
The knight did speak, “and so would I save thee,
O Selig, Herzog von Weiß, from thy self!
Whilst thou art wroth, this rain will not abate;
Anon, this tree, though mighty, will be fell’d.”

“So fell’d by softness, yea, I know it comes,
A softness of the earth and of the heart
Which will, in turn, fell all the Greifes hopes
To join it there. In wrath are we but made,
And, in its keeping, so we too are kept.
It conjures worth in ponies, too, though less;
Would so that Love have thee abandon it,
Thy self ingratiating to Her will?
Thou bearest armour, but no arms, forsooth,
So I should take thee for a knight of words
And cups alone, content to brag thy deeds
In old Wirtshäusern far removed from what
Would testeth thee to better ends. Hearken!
Mark me now well, O pony pretending,
Knight-bachelor with no standard to stain:
I will sup on thy meat ere I be dash’d
And thence, so bonded, walk grey Tartarus!”

“We quarrel, then!” announced the knight to him.
“I be without nobility or wings,
‘Tis sooth, but thy get of me be too light
And thou shalt find me more than trifling soon.”

The duke of White-Claws even circled him,
A-bristle with the lusty shade of war
And death brought nigh, a sense which few doth seek
And fewer still return to drink it more.

A griffin’s met is swiftness, but for all
Earth-ponies dwelleth there a dauntless strength,
Communion with the land and all which grows.
A single strike did move him not an inch.

“I wish no hurt to thee, Selig, my lord
And better. Prithee take Benevolence
Into thy heart and nurse it there so that
An easiness might soothe thy malcontent.”

He struck again, to score but armour’s face
And find a mountain in his company.
“A weakness, so it is, as thou wouldst have
Our mete the weaker for’t. I fear not death!”

“Nor I, but I have much yet to be done!”
The knight did speak, in offering a smile.
“Be it not so for thee? What duke be loved
For roughness and not for prosperities?”

“We are the Greife!” came his keening cry,
A shard of lightning crash’d without the room.
“We ken the taste of blood, and relish it!
An we descend to meekness, we would not.”

The duke struck out again, the knight unmoved,
Abstaining answers to each sure attack.
“That makes the third,” he said, “so wilt thou yield?
My time with thee is spent; this tree now falls.”

“Then it doth fall!” cried out the maddened duke.
“An Sky will not have me, then let the Earth!
Would I be blind? Die Grüne Kralle stole
Out from the rain those who would cling to life,
Expending there all else which pride would buy.
Then they do leave! This Chaos be not mine,
As thou would speak it, but of theirs in stead!
Tumult of wills, deny what maketh them,
Deny what dæmons they would foolish chase!
So go, Equestrian, impart to them,
With aid of all thy saucy unicorns,
The magick that we can not use ourselves
But must be bound to serve in friendship’s name.
Then I do die! a Greif is left behind
For spite, and this tree bury it with him.”

The keep was moved as, far below, the earth,
So sodden in the rain, at last gave out.
The roots for all their size could clutch to naught
Like silken sand through a great dragon’s-claw.

The knight hasten’d outside and took attend
Of Ernst and fair Cadenza, their task done.
He was brought up, his hooves quit of the stone
Just as the tree fell over, there to die.

Away the White-Claw lands, and through the rain
The heaving tree was still within their sight,
So large was it. It cast itself down slow
And not apace, as though it fell in dreams.

The earth could not be seen from where they flew
For all the rain, but lo! the crash was heard
By every griffin, even those abed,
And sounded like the ending of the world.

The turbid sky shot spears of sun onto
The Greifland all about, and such was joy
Ere seen by none who lived to recall it.
The tree of the Green Claw awoke to praise.

“I hear their voices!” said Cadenza then.
“A sound prodigious, lilting to the Sky!”
The knight was brought unto the tavern same
Which shelter’d them in times of need removed.

All through the Green-Claw tree, in hamlets quaint
And cities great beside, the griffins sang
In kinship, feathers green and white a-like,
In celebration of Benevolence.

One shy of revelry, the knight would fain
Have taken up the quest once more, but he
Was made to stay a night by Princess Love
And take in his share of their gratitude.

“A kindness begets kindnesses in turn,”
Said She, “and this be thy reward; accept!
A fire’s lit—let us go dry our coats
And dance with precious friends who call to us!”

The boasts of good Sir Ernst were idle not:
A griffin-song could lift a heavy heart
And leave it there, but still the knight did sigh.
The fire offered naught to warm his mood.

“Mein Kamerad,” Gerlinde said to him,
“I hold thy task complete beyond all hope!
Thou here hast brought all glory to thy Crown
And mark this well: the Greife shan’t forget.”

“Would not that we forget, but I regret,”
The knight said to the griffin and to Love.
“The duke is slain, and I could not beseech
Him strongly ere he quarrel’d unto me.”

Gerlinde nodded, setting down her draught.
“‘Tis sooth that Selig Herzog will be mourn’d,
For none among us doubt the love he had
For land and people. Chaos took his mind.”

Cadenza bow'd her head and shut her eyes.
“Unhappy Chaos, it!” she soft did say.
“Am I a goddess full, or am I false?
To mend’s beyond the power of the Sky?”

The knight did speak. “In all these matters here,
For each of them, a mortal pray’d to Sky,
And Sky sent me, a mortal, answering.
I be Love’s student, yet Love learneth too.”

“O Morgenstern!” cried out Gerlinde then.
“Thou didst appear but in the recent skies!
Thou art not with a ritter as his guide,
But rather as his friend, so do I think!”

The knight put one large hoof upon Her wing.
“This quest be for my worthiness and thine.
Be not the goddess here, in stead the friend,
And we will both be greater for these deeds.”

Gerlinde gave a squawk. “Now fie to that!
This treacle wearies me. The time’s for wine!
I be the maiden who call’d up to Sky
And now Thine Aunts tell me to take a dance!”

The knight could not escape his callers then:
Tiercels who cuff’d him, hens who danced with him,
And Princess Love, his words of kindness set
In Her immortal heart, there to remain.

“O ritter!” said good Ingrid when she could,
“An thou wert but a Greif, an accolade
I’d give to thee, an order, as deserved.
I envy well thy mistresses, the Sky.”

“I’faith!” cried Ernst, “if Sun and Moon doth not
Make thee a noble, let me hear of it!
Would they know then the Greifvolks righteousness!“
The knight bow’d to them, showing up his thanks.

“My lady, Countess Ingrid, may this be
The lantern lighting friendship for our kinds,
That Harmony would stay for ever here,
Paid as it was on thine, in blood and hearths.
My lord Sir Ernst, I relish not the thought
Of thee as enemy, for thou art strong
As one of mine to carry me so far!
I am thy pony, now and ever more.“

The Luftrittern and other griffins brave
Who brought their fellows out from creeping doom
Made merry all the night, yet with the dawn
Came much solemnity and labouring.

The knight, beset with aches caught from the drink,
Was slow to rouse; Cadenza suffer’d not.
“Ah, mortals with their wine!” She laugh’d to him.
“I fret on goddesshood a little less.”

“I’faith? Then dost Thou too fret on my witness here
Of coarse and wanton acts Her Highness took
With aid of griffin-beer? Shall I recount?”
Though well it pain’d him, he did have his laugh.

“A payment, there, for Anchormeet, that face!
That count was mine, and now ‘tis gave to Thee!
O princess, wert Thou ever ladyship,
Becoming of a seat in Canterlot.”

She smiled to him, glad of his lighten’d heart.
“My soul be lift'd, knight, for conduct thine.
Becomest more the pony she would have
And less the pony thou hast erewhile been.”

Around them as they left the tavern hall
The myriad of White-Claw griffin-folk
Did true lament the loss of their home-tree,
But gave thanks for their lives, which had been spared.

The Countess Ingrid gave escort to ground,
Still nearly just a fen in its new make.
The ponies waved good-bye and bore out south
Into the forest-land of Cervinox.

There Chaos faltered more, perceiving loss,
But shatt’ring not misfortune’s hold on them.
The greatest test for one now lay ahead,
The fate there for the other as its prize.
> The Deed of Charity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────THE DEED OF CHARITY──────


earto the ragged edge of all the world
Be found the wood which gave life to the first,
And, in the time e’en when the firmament
Was being paint’d, vigil there was stood.

The canopies of older ways brought hush
To what perception would lean on the Sky,
In stead a litany from priestesses
Who hold their masses for the moss and leaves.

Cadenza and the knight came to the deer
At last in darkness, shrouded from the moon,
A grasping dimness, eager in its move,
Bay’d off by but the lambent fungi there.

In close humility was Cervinox
Wrought by the deer to shelter them in sleep,
Appointing naught but beds of hay beneath
The hollow’d, hallow’d brush of laurel-trees.

“That we should brook the steel brought to us now!”
Came soft a voice out from the stuff of trees.
“The iron in it doth distress the blood
Of life and of our whispering surround.”

Cadenza laughed and turned to make a meet.
“How greatly must an image be a-loft
Ere one would courseth far to vitiate
And to be nuisance on thy purities!”

The she-deer seem’d to be material
Brought out from nature’s leafèd womb itself.
“We mind thee long, O princess, and we fret,
For aught has beck’d thee here to Cervinox.”

“A prayer delivers us, and we do call,”
Said plain the Goddess Love. “One of thy kind
Hath pierced above with woe the canopy
And sung a strain unto the hearking Sky.“

Thenceward to the knight she made regard:
“The Sun and Moon prescribe what we proscribe!”
She said with laughter, bitterly to give.
“Be his life less than that which summon’d thee?”

“Let us to her,” the knight at last did speak,
“And let us make this errand’s measure sure
In what must be prescribed to see it well,
My life not more, nor less, but for the deed. “

“She mourneth out her love, so have a care,”
Said stern the doe, “and mark her cheek so stain’d
By tears of yearning for deliverance
But withal wishing vengeance for the same.”

Their coursing through the wood kept brief, and yet
A ling'ring wrong the knight did keenly mark:
Though there were does and fawns as they pass’d on,
Not for a single stag he made to see.

The doe lead them out to a dappled hill,
And thereupon the crown a maiden lay,
Close as much to the moon as she might be
Ere sorrows drown her or her soul be burn’d.

The princess of the heart was struck to stone
To see in that a-pitied mortal soul
A loss come only by the greatest greed,
A foundering of spirit none might still.

She lay beside brought their faces close:
“I pray thee speak to me, my maiden lorn,
And give to words what wretchings sicken now
A heart unto its shrinking. Be it death?“

The maiden doe, in weeping, gave her tale:
“My Princess Love, what sateth avarice?
Resolve us better, death, than what befalls
Our people, who are given up as feed!
A chitt’ring hunger bleeds out from the earth,
A sickly darkness, black, like flesh made rot
And made again to live. We name it not,
But still it takes its power as it would
To cast a lang’rous restlessness on us.
My heart and hart, to whom I plighted troth,
Is now the object of its cursèd wont
And will, this selfsame day, be offer’d up
Unto the board of greed, where it shall feast
Upon his love ‘til naught remains for me,
Not e’en his breath, or beating of his heart.”

The knight paced back and there looked to his host.
“A matter sapping what doth found us all!
Perforce, this be a matter sure of death,
For death be dealt where love hath stolen off.”

Cadenza made to stand. “Down to the quick
Of mine own soul are these wounds made!
That I, or One who is the Goddess Love
Ever could brook a misery as this!“

“I see now what the deed would have of me,”
Spake knight as he marked out the royal words.
“In love, I am a vessel like to him,
And scarce discernment will this hunger have
For whosoever giveth it repast,
Save sole for repast given up in sooth.
This deed be yet the deed of Charity,
Of giving from the self a treasured boon
Out ready to another’s needfulness.
My soul’s for valour, and in Charity
Be valour ever seated for the need.
I will become the feast in thy hart’s stead
An low is my wish brought in failure.”

The maiden then could not make out his met,
And so did lay bemused within her grief.
“Wouldst thou give up thy life? For there’s naught else
Assuaging what the morrow brings to us.”

His voice took on its full gentility.
“Investiture be mine, but heraldry
Eludes those who doth not value the true
And truelike power of a given gift.”

“I mark thy ends,” spake Love, “but too thy means,
And I do find thy prize too richly bought;
Howsoever may't bless the deer with joy,
A sorrow for another blancheth hope.”

To it his nostrils flared, so cried he out
“An such a given knight would not so lief
Give up as I would, let him to his shame
Where sullen comforts drain upon his wit.“

Love fretted and put out a hoof to him.
“A love doth wait for thee, mind thy reserve!
A life now up for life! There are more shoots
Upon this bough to smell than at thy nose!“

The knight stood ‘fore the deer-maid and gave bow.
“Present me there, upon the darkest door,
To take the stead of thy belovèd hart
And fill a trust that Charity is come.”

“Thou art a doughty pony, verily,”
Spake soft the doe, “and though ‘tis not the wish
I have for any creature with a heart,
Thy strict commission serveth out my will.”

They made a way, and Love brought low her ears,
As though a-ready weeping for the knight
Who, in a fever for his own account,
Would dash a love to save a love in turn.

Anon the clouds took up before the moon,
And with the shroud the forest turn’d to ink,
A pitch on eyes, a pall on latent moods
Which taketh up the shape of quiet pains.

In grim procession each took on their pace,
The maiden juring not a lighter thought
For what old unity would be repair’d
By that, the hollow Charity she had.

Cadenza so besought him on the path:
“Stay up thy met, for Magick yet remains!
Hast thou but for the moment? What of me,
Or of thy unicorn whose passions steer
A heart to duty? Would that heart so heed
A wailing stick of pride which ushers thee
To boundless ruin ere another way
Could scarce present itself? Thy bravery
Doth move athwart the deed in this, I say.
What might turn thee while keeping thee a-course?
A place thou backwards walks unto be still
A place thou reacheth, an thy steps be wise.”

“The time betrays us, though I hear thy words,”
Replied the knight to Her. “Should o’erlong
We cogitate the act, we will but fail,
With Charity the hostess of our shame.”

“By rash or reason wilt thou see it done,
O knight, and therewith give to her her mend,
But close, I counsel thee, what to thine own,
That what thou givest here be thine to give?”

“Thou speakest now of mine own unicorn,
And of a fancied pledge to stay me well
Which hath no purchase but in missing dreams,
For I am task’d to valour, forthright all.”

The briars yawn’d before them then, a sore
Erupted of its humours, yet un-knit,
A poxy cicatrice upon the earth
To make the knight and maiden shy their sense.

“The soil here doth tell me of its curse!”
Cried out the knight. “No craft of nature, this,
Nor of the deer who quaver at its loom!
What steäls up the love of Cervinox?“

“This nest of swords! This tangle of spear-heads!”
There spat the doe, as venom she would give.
“Fast doth it here avail Chaos’s bride,
A creature ichorous of wilful wants!“

Cadenza then espied the lonesome stag,
Recumbent on an altar wrought of jade.
His eyes were shut, no vigour in his legs,
So he seem’d to all eyes to be in death.

“We’re come too late!” lamented out the doe.
“The fright hath took him, or some fouler thing,
And here, the trophy of our witlessness!
O hated beast that sups upon our love!“

The knight expressed his incredulity.
“This crow be not for carrion, methinks,
But for the beats and breaths of life which cast
In whispers short the magicked words of love
And give rise to the meal; verily,
For only those in love, and masculine,
Do set a happy table for the beast.
Such as I am, my purpose is made clear:
That I am wish’d to be charitable
By goodly Harmony, as I have spoke,
With guessing to my value ere this night.
My precious ladies, take thee up the hart
And hie him then to safety, leaving me.”

“A-ready have I made mine argument,”
Said soft Cadenza while they took the stag,
“And thou dost reck me not, so in its turn,
I’ll weather not thy gross temerity.“

The doe pointed a dainty cloven hoof.
“Herenow it issues forth betimes, alas!”
Thence slither’d out a magick, sickly vert,
As like unto a serpent seeking game.

“I’ll let it find me,” said then the knight to them,
“And take me where it will, for love’s its wont,
Not rather creatures dead, which cannot love;
But hasten thee, and steal thee hence away!”

The magick presently divined him out;
And, staying not to find its sureness first,
Assaulted on the knight where he did stand,
Enveloping him in a wretchèd fog.

The princess and the deer, forgotten so,
Brought out from danger, back to darken’d glades
Beneath the canopy to take their rest.
Cadenza, strick’d, cast eyes back to the dark.

The knight heard aught inside his fever’d head,
A she-voice sonorous and faintly splayed
By years of hunger. Twisting as he did,
Adrift in endless green, he heark’d to her.

“No deer-flesh, this! but I shall not aggrieve,
For lo, I do taste out the tincture “love”
Which I lust after, finding naught which plain
Affronts me, so I’ll take him to my board.”

The sticking green abated not a whit,
Kept to its furnishment of prisoners
Or slaves, more of the like, who gave her life
And from whom life was taken e’er in greed.

“I count thee mighty, handsome one of steel!”
The voice, like honey, sugared in his ear.
“Give up thy senses, pray! and worship me
Instead of her, whoever ‘she’ might be.”

Nobility had melted like a rime
Met powerf’ly by zephyrs from the gulf,
Left for the knight no recourse to resist,
In stead he lay awash in deeping draws.

“Look only unto me, my precious one!”
Spake on the soothing, souring matron’s voice,
“Surrender up all adulation here,
That I would visit to thee endless joy.“

The knight saw there a beauty far beyond
What nature might allow a mortal shape;
I’faith, the fairness lit on horrors true
For shapeless was what had him in her thrall.

“Chaos, my benefactor, brings me here,”
She said, “and bade me take their love as due
A royalty like mine, a queen of swarms!
That I should find a pony gladdens me,
For deer-love be too timid in its taste—
It cloys of safety, seeking naught but rote
And simple sanctuary. But for thy love
Be boldness at the place beneath the heart!
Thou art afield, and far from what thou keepst,
And absence breedeth fondness, as is said,
So shall my brood and I now relish thee!”

All thews, and thought, and movement had been struck
Away from what the knight could there command.
A chitinous morass out from the black
Did clamber up and set upon his form,
The sea of eyes in rheumy blues and greens
Seem’d two at once a legion, and a sole
Behemoth ‘jured from hellish thoughts which moved
Like fish within a school, possessed of but
A single will, a siren’s call to dine.
He writhed in joyous agony to be
So drawn and yet so wanted for the might
A-round his heart, a fortress where within
The love he held true for his unicorn
Could only cower as the walls were dash’d.

Far thence in safety did the doe and stag
Take up repose; Cadenza, for her part,
Could make no rest, for wickèd haunts abode
Within the scape of her dominion Love.

“Mine ears are harrow’d by what can’t be heard
But still has register for goddesses
So task’d to be its bearers. Goodly deer,
I must stay up my gladness yet in this.“

The maiden nodded. “So then should it be stay’d!
This covetousness ever would have us
And seek us, serpentine within its hunts,
To come again anon. O Goddess Love,
And princess of the morning sky a-side,
We of the gentle land of Cervinox
Shall suffer not to see a kin in hooves
So given up to what accosteth us—
I’faith, he has upon him all the eyes
And ire of the wood, so be he back’d.
How could I long enjoy a selfish peace
With ken such that a sister soon will come
To famine in a like to mine? I can’t!
Take thee us up, O princess, to beset
From all points; ev’ry leaf is with thee here,
Each twig, to name the very last, would fly,
Each tree would bow against the wind in strife
To vie for victory immaculate.
The peoples of fair Cervinox would purge
The evil which resolves to make us lean,
Like tallow’s sure retreat from candle-flame,
Let it be burnt away! It sups on love,
So let us see its tongue alight on hate.“

“My peace to thee!” said there the princess back.
“I brook no hatred; neigh, not even for
A springtime snow which breaketh willow-trees.
But thou hast wisdom—we must have aught done.”

The stag then spoke: “My princess beauteous,
Our foe’s a fever on the loving soul,
To cautious whisper in a language green
Which bindeth up the mind. His doom be nigh!“

“So rouse!” cried out Cadenza, “Rouse the deer,
And, in their passage, they unstuff the phial
Of righteous edict: ‘get thee gone, thou scourge;
Else starve from us!’ And give a bitter draught.“

They all then stood and join’d Cadenza to,
But not in acrimony, rather love,
A love of courage and of precious things.
The maiden who had summon’d them then spake.

“Yea, sooth! None of us gave in Charity,
But sole in fear and fearfulness for life
That never would enow have been taken
To satisfy cold Chaos in His courts.“

The growth did swallow them before Her eyes,
Away to sore entreat their kindred, boons
So needed for the forest there to clash
At terrors fell and searching in the mist.

To all the corners of the deer-lands flew
Resolve unstinted, galvanised by what
True Charity the ponies brought to them,
The lash of grim appeasement broken out.

“But I am one a-part,” spake She alone,
“And now the deed be mine to see so done,
For as the knight hath given Charity,
Mine own for It is to have him quest on.”

She took her course and gallop’d back unto
The thorny barrow where the knight had gone.
She found the altar bare of any life
Or any vessel for it, so she pressed.

The daggers of the thatch tore at her wings,
The unwell coils of brambles sought her crown
To be pluck’d from her head, yet on she braved,
Heedless bound in for the sanctum’s maw.

All thought and breath was stole away from Her
As She beheld the measure of the ill:
A vast and reaching chamber of he-deer
Suspended in a viscous salivate
The hue of tainted emeralds in black.
A-cross the gloom’d expanse in legions dwelt
The changelings, insect-ponies which take shapes
To shamble in periphery of those
They would devour. Though She could not mark
The knight, cares did She harbour for the stags
Who curled upon themselves like babes in sleep,
Their shrivel’d souls tormented by the scrape
Of stark rapacity. Her horn then shone
Sky-blue, the shade of what She heraldeth
Betwixt the Night and Day, and out was loosed
A lance of magick, seeking up to-ward
The heavens, piercing through the bleakest scape.
The moon was setting, and the sky took on
The colour of Her coat, tinged violet
At fringes like Her wings. The changelings cowed,
For Love Herself was come amongst them now,
And She would not be challenged for her charge.

They parted for their queen, a hollow thing,
Gave flight by gossamer cicada-wings
And sight by demon-eyes, both foul in get
As she appraised the nascent goddess there.

“What filly be this?” said she, “This, who dares
Pretend at me and breaketh up the fine!
Thou comest here to simper, or to treat,
Or to bargain, mayhap, for what I’ve won?”

“Thou takest much in tribute from the deer,”
Spake firm Cadenza, “and now from my knight—
Yea, verily, too much, as I account.
Thy board of soften’d hearts doth bloat the cups
Of balance, making out to be consumed
What should not ever destroyed, i’faith.
I ken that thou and thine must feed, but pray!
The forest-land of Cervinox beyond
Be now a spectre, life forbidden there
To breed as thou grows ever strong from it.
Away, away, my changing-queen, away!
Thou tarry'st here too long, and maketh blight
Upon the peaceful, who might be thy friends!

Her cackle gnaw’d upon the swimming hope
Which foundered then, so taken with the ebb
Of innocence. “How now, concerneth me
With this? Prithee, what need have I for friends?“

The Goddess of the Heart and Dawn spake thus:
“Love’s to be shared in its menagerie,
Not to be guarded like a dragon’s hoard,
For ever jealous, keeping it so close
That life be stolen from it as would prey!
An couldst thou find a Harmony with them,
There would be bounty for thee, not a scourged
And salt’d land, sank of its worth,
Which coughs thee out to find another prize!
I am the Love Herself, I boast it not,
Save for my simple ventures. I am She
Who knows apace what due capacity
Love hath for thee, and all unhappiness
Which could be here erased but for thy will.
I wish for even thee to take what Love
Is due, as is my get, for all need Love,
Forsooth; Love be prelude to life itself!
An there be here a dearth of Charity,
The deer to thee, or thou to them in turn,
No gladness ready will be come to here.
We all would be friends, close in Harmony,
Yet would we not give first in Charity?
The deer availeth thee no more their harts;
They would instead see thee to death with them
In fasting where a plenty could have been.“

“Thy words are crystalline; they would seem fair
But lo! how easily they shatter out
Upon a reason’d hardness. This be mine;
As I did take it, quick prosperity
For what it is, and charitable deer
Afford me little to mine own designs.
I culleth more, yea, ever more to me!
Mine hunger knoweth, then or now, no end,
As I would conquer, swallowing the world,
Could I but conjure it! And Charity?
Naught could I e’er present but misery
And bleating fawns lamenting what is lost
Which I, i’faith, give gladly unto them.
They will not offer to me? So be it,
I will but take them, and sup all the same!“

Cadenza stood, so haloed by the morn.
“O insect-queen, thou art the soul of Greed,
And hence wilt thou find but a famine here;
Begone! an thou dost value fortune fair.”

The she-beast snorted, pawing at the earth,
With hooves made mockery of pony-kind,
A body eaten through by scarcity.
Her fangs were needles, and her eyes a void.

The alicorn before her was a foe
Drawn up in holy splendour, challenging
At triäls she could not contend in strength.
She languish’d there in scorn for but a breath.

“A daughter of my daughters’ daughters’ brood,
In times of by and by when all is changed,
Will visit Thee and take from Thee Thy love,
And bring him to her ruinous delights.”

The princess gave rebuke: “So might it be,
“And not for simple venery, methinks,
But sowest thou no fear within My breast,
For I am mighty, and My Love the same.”

The swarm ascended, no words giving forth
From queen or subjects breaking out to dawn,
The dirge of wings imparting Her its curse,
But great Cadenza hearkened not to it.

So Love excised from ev’ry stag within
The membranes of the foul, and back to light,
The green of pure consumption now the pink
Of young and growing day-time, to the last.

The knight She freed as well, and he was low,
Yet not remorseful, for he had his deed,
And he had served out gladly from his heart.
He took his counsel as Cadenza bid.

“Thou seest it, knight, the way of temperance,
And how the virtue can be made a vice
By way of better ends. Again I mark
Thy readiness, and yea, thy Charity,
Yet in far duties be a stronger pull, at times,
Petitioning thy hooves to tread in place
But for a moment to bring potency
Unlooked-for to thine acts: true Charity!
Thou didst deliver one back to his doe,
But now all are deliver’d, as we would.“

The knight’s proud ears betrayed his mood and sank.
“I bring myself to penitence for this,
A rashness in my conduct, meaning good
To be so done, but counting short my worth.”

“Thy worth be not alone in valour, sir,”
So shrove the goddess, “nor in temperance,
But in the treacherous scape of the two,
Where they, with others, make the knight I see.”

“And I see victory!” whinnied the knight.
“My brave companion, now my saviour, come!
Let us see now the harts to their appoint
Within the glades where they shall reunite.”

The forest grew the greener for the joy
That morning, not the changeling-green of sick,
But rather bright and budding greens of health
In earth and grass, which deer are to attend.

The Chaos had been struck, but still affirmed
To take His glories and make sport of them.
His reach was long; His gaze was longer still,
As all portents would fall upon His claw.

The Day gave up to glad solemnity
Befitting ones of earth as knight and deer
Who rapt did move across the wound to mend
Unholy thorns left in the scourge’s wake.

With gifts of food apportioned ‘twixt them both,
The knight and princess fared the deer-folk well
And struck to forests of the Æther-Free,
The land bereft of Magick, where none trod.

Cadenza’s star shone brighter ever on
From all the Love return’d to Cervinox,
A goddess young, a friend who saved a knight,
And gave, as Charity, part of his quest.
> The Deed of Magick
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


──────THE DEED OF MAGICK──────


anguinity be ever hunted out
By what descents are born from its defeats,
When all the darkness comes into the breast
And, sweet in its own way, rots out the soul.

The Æther-Free, devoid of Magick full:
A wood of wildness and of ancient things
Which brush the under-side of all our ken
And push up from a place that none can see.

No glance of the divine could settle there
Where strong encroachments claim upon the seat
Of pony-kind, the Palace of the Sky,
And ever did it turn the Magick back.

The Chaos here designed to make His stand,
And brought up from the inverse spires of earth
A hate unfettered, umbra without peer,
A vacuum of all mercy given thought.

Her eyes were twining hells, her form the cloud
Which shutters out the stars on winter nights;
Whereto she brought her gaze was there transfix’d
By all the sundry horrors of the past.

The strange and cold disintegrating bones
Far in the earth beneath her spoke a tale
Of swevens everlasting, ne’er to wake,
A bed upon which Magick sleepeth not.

She looked upon the palace, knowing well
What she would have transpire presently:
A wound of heart, a shade of bitterness
To bring all living things into the dark.

And so it was that forest, which eschew’d
What maketh up our very souls, in stead
Was host then to an echo of the days
When Magick held no met over the world.

At close the borders of the Æther-Free,
The gracious mare Cadenza took her leave:
“O knight, thou art a stallion of the Earth,
A pony strong who sole can here redress
The old and strange which grips the forest’s heart
And give the gift of Magick to its fold.
Its blankness spreads like poison on a hide;
Anon would it take up the lands we love
And sap the Magick there, unmaking us,
Unmaking, yea, all that we ponies claim.
This be a place where even Sun and Moon
Bear not to tread, for they have alicorn
Like mine and like thy lover’s, painèd by
The passing of Old Ways which none can guess.
We be of Sky, and leaden do We find
This place, which pulleth to Our wings and horns
And hollow maketh Us, so here we part.”

The knight held up a hoof. “But stay a breath!
I grave beseech thee, goodly Goddess Love.
I am of Earth, as told, but what of mine
Be for this deed, an Magick be the thing?”

She smiled soft, and gave to him a kiss.
“‘The Spark of Magick wakens Harmony,’
‘Tis spoke, but ere a spark there be a seed to plant
And to a flower nurture, as thou wouldst.“

She then depart before his searching eyes,
And whither she had gone he could not make
To satisfy his new-found solitude.
He stepped into the wood to make his deed.

Within, the bowers fast became the mouths
Which call’d into his doubts and fanned his cares.
A hostile comb of hate played at his mane
And raked against his coat and sense beside.

The trees were twisted by the noisome winds
Which carried forth corrupted breaths of what
Lay deeper. Thus he saw the place was sick
And weary, every thing wishing to die.

The path spoke to him, finding him a one
Whose like had not since passed beyond the count
Of all days where the world was ruled by hooves.
The earth was wary, yet it held him up.

Quick made the darkness to embrace him then,
The moon-light flashing from his armour’s face
As though to keep it in unwholesome bays.
Yet, ever brave, the knight would yield not.

The hatred pressed him deeper, looming in
And sweeping ‘cross its shelters from the sky
Where hung its stern and rad’iant enemy.
He smiled unto the moon, and kept his course.

The way was gone from him ere much had pass’d;
But for the sense of earth, no path remained,
No way for him to follow, for the wood
Suffer’d him not, and beckon’d him to doom.

“O soil steady, bringst thou up to me
And tell me of a maiden in distress
Who findeth this place as a gainly tomb
And yearns for Magick brought, that I may serve.”

An ancient voice, a cool and saturnine
Tongue of a mare, so languid in its cares
That plainly did she think naught of the knight
Save for his presence in her haunting-grounds.

“Be still, my nephew! Stay the levity
That thou must have to speak upon the earth!
I am the only matron of the night
Thou willst find here, so now what shalt thou do?“

“I see thee not,” spake knight, “but mark thine hate
For me a-side, no plainer so ‘tis made.
So be it that thou hatest me, i’faith,
Yet still am I determin’d to my deed.“

“What deed be that? I sought up for no deed
But for a trifle granted unto me,
And what I wish I say thou canst not grant
For thou art mortal, and beneath concern.“

The knight turn’d not, but set his armour’d hooves.
“Speak sooth to me, O matron, and with haste:
What prayer made thee unto the Sky above?
Name out thy deed, else I shall name it mine.”

She laugh’d to hear him speak. “I be amused!
Then lo, here was my softly-singing prayer:
To me, my liberties, and to the Moon
Mine utter scorn, that darkness waxeth strong
With all the might of Magick at my beck!
My gaol be this wooding, willing none
Into it but what fate and Chaos deem
My worthy servants. Forest primæval,
So agèd that it transcends memory
Of all who live! yea, even Sun and Moon
Do fear me, though they know not what they fear.
I keep within me fell malaise beyond
What thou couldst fathom, even for the blood
Thou gives up to thy Earth, which drinks it deep.
I can not conjure me to such a form
That thou wouldst take as pony, or as such
From a well-thinking mind of recent days.
Yet I remember! and beneath the Sun,
That hated Sun, which once could burn alone,
Again alone will be, an I am freed.
Thy deed to me, O knight, as I would have:
Bring up the Magick to this fated place
And give me power to take mastery
O’er all this creeping forest, beating back
The new roads made unto thy precious Sky,
That I might bring a Sky of mine own make.
Give form to me, unbind me from His will,
And I will mark the day so truly won
A full reward beside will I gift thee.”

“Thou speakest now of Chaos!” roared the knight.
“I would defy Him, marry, to the last!
An thou art prisoner within this wood,
Benighted as it is, I bring thee hope!”

“I’m of this place,” said she, “and know the fount
Where willing turf doth stretch up to the Sky
In celebration of a fleeing point
Where Magick would alight, restoring me.”

“Then let ponies attend it,” said he then,
“For I be puissant with the earthen ways
And fain would coax a shrinking violet
Into the sunlight, bringing happiness.”

“So for it, thou shouldst then approach my voice,”
Spoke out the mare, at once both near and far.
“‘Tis but a small redoubt within the world
That giveth shelter from thy founded fears.”

He followed, as he could, yet she was coy,
Her words both sparse and nebulous to him.
Through grasping vines and nettles did he course,
But heeding naught save for the matron’s speech.

“Long this place hath been upon the world,”
She counseled him, “and long it festereth
With scraping dreams that seek a soul to sleep
That it might have new audience to court.”

“I fear not dreaming,” said he, “for my Mirth
Bestows a buoyancy upon my soul
As I bore mine own dreams unto a maid
Whose people swim and frolic in the deep.”

The forest darkened in the moon’s retreat,
Like sunning birds which flee the cooling winds
Of autumn in the waning of the year.
The knight trod on, and ever she with him.

“Still would it have thee, knight,” said then the voice.
“All wings be forfeit here, as thou hast seen
From thine own Princess Love, abandoning
Thee so for flight! And now thou walkst alone.”

“I fear not falling, for Benevolence
Doth lift me even when no wings I have,
As proffered I my aid even to one
Who valued my blood more than his own flight.”

The path closed into him, coveting then
His armour, every leaf was made to touch
And pull upon his person, leaving stripe
Of subtle burns and marrings of its shine.

“So thou art joy’d and kind, but art thou true?”
The voice ephemeral said unto him.
“What cost would take thee from thy loyalties
And set thee to an opportunist’s due?”

“I fear not grim temptation; Fealty
Be ever in my breast, as in the breasts
Of two goats who had lock’d their horns and hearts
But chose their friendship over gilded crowns.”

The birdsong died upon all Nature’s lips
While knobbed and thorny roots made treachery
For the knight’s passage through the elder wood.
A chill descended, but he would not slow.

“Then I am left to wonder what upon
These awe-some ventures thou hast left thy mark!
Has thy great noble quest come at no price?
Dost thou keep all the glory for thy self?”

“I fear not avarice. In Charity
I gave up to the wickèd mine own life—
My very life itself—for gentle deer,
Though Love did intercede and gift it back.“

No leaves now grew through where the knight did pass,
And all the trees were shrunk and dead within.
The choïr of the earth fell out of tune
Beneath the steelshod hooves upon its back.

“And this be truth, the yarn that thou hast spun?
What cause have I to mark it but as farce
And spiteful fanciment for thine own sport,
O pony gifted with a serpent’s tongue?“

“I fear not falsehood, for I speak but Sooth
And suffer naught but Sooth in my surround.
A lie so told doth turn the fair to foul
And mar a fetching face, sole for its words.”

They then were come, and our knight saw the point
The voice had spoke to him, beneath a swell
So slight within the Earth, it carvèd seem’d,
A scintillating cave of jewellery.

“A seed be here, lo! Seed of Harmony,
Which long doth thirst for caring from the earth
Thou canst deliver, Magick to give bud
In its own turn. Now hasten, and be done!”

Within him could the knight sense all the good
Inside that blacken’d space, and meek the Seed,
It shallow sleeping in the unturn’d earth,
But quickened to him and his breath of life.

“O little spark of Magick,” said he soft,
“I pray Thee take my succour and my strength.
The Earth cries out for Thee to make It well,
And I, of Earth, would fain protect Thee both.
I be a pony, made in image of
The Sisters of the Sky, the Sun and Moon,
Who built us for the gladness of the task.
My kin be the custodians of earth
And Earth besides, so Thou art mine
To tend and to be loved by mine own hooves.
Now quicken, Magick! Spring up from the ground
And blossom to a spread of newer days
Of happiness for this accursèd wood!
Thou art the nexus of our Harmony,
And soon will rive the illness from the land
And halt the slow retreat of æther here
Unto its betterment. So prithee, grow!
Take up and give the New Ways to the land,
Restoring fair designs of goodness here."

The weight of air was made to bow above
The heath of silence burgeon’d on the legs.
The knight’s own crest of weal was made to plunge
And winnow out the hope from sterner fears.

“This cruel mischance!” he neighed, “be I undone?
Or earth is now impermeate as air?
What veins be left for æther to surge out
An now below doth shun it, as above?“

A seedling burst and fanned up from its cage
Like showers falling up-ward to the clouds!
It grew not much, nor greatly, but it gleam’d
Out all the promise in a crystal’s shine.

“A shoot is come! The Tree of Harmony!”
Whinnied the knight. “It visits now the realm
And scope of basely brief mortality!
The æther be embraced, its Magick found!”

The hollow there did brighten for a glimpse
Of hope eventual, the jewels a-glow,
But darkness then furled its material
Into the Magick, bringing out a form.

She was a night-mare, tall as goddesses,
A mouth like unto beasts that eateth flesh,
A hide obsidian, infinite black,
And her eyes were a hue of brimstone-flame.

“I am remade!” cried she, and spread her wings,
The brace of air about her made to squeal
And burn in magicked energy a-cross
Her horn, an icicle of eerie light.

The knight stood ground and lifted up his head.
“No matron, this! An thou didst pray for me,
Then wherefore did the Sky heed such a hate
And mark it as a goodness? What art thou?”

She circled him, in thoughts, like spectral sharks.
“I be no traitor, neigh, not even now.
I be a doting aunt, giving a gift
Unto a goodly nephew’s service fit.”

“No kin of mine!” said he. “Stay up thy gift,
I’ll have it not, for thou art venomous,
And hatest me, I mark it, for my good.”
She to him, then, and closed about his gaze.

“I pay my debt, and I have debt with thee.
I hate thee not, O worthy saviour;
I’faith, thou hast not Magick, but for me!
A pony of the earth made oracle!“

Ere he could protest more, images came
Unbidden to his mind, the tableaus ghast
And reaching far into the skeins of time
Beyond which he had lived, nor any could!
A younger sun without a guardian,
A younger moon without a stewardess,
A land of straighten’d edges, reaching up,
Great towers wrought, but not by any hoof
Or horn or furnished ancestry thereof.
‘Twas world ere Magick, where but Chaos play’d,
When time was not a river, but a sea
Without a current, depth and stillness sole
Upon its reasoning. When ‘bated one,
Another rose to him, beheld thereto,
And he could not, or would not, look away,
For fast the night-mare had him so embraced.
From past to murky future flow’d the lights
Of special portents, matters alien
To what he could there conjure. At the last
Did cometh his own life, and ere he woke
He saw the face of her, his maiden fair.

The night-mare reared and laughed with sharpened teeth.
Her bay held in't a sick'ning, baleful joy.
“So ‘tis! thou foal, what sacrifice thou wrights!
Magick be ken; now thou art curs'd with it.”

He took his breath. “No curse be this, methinks,
In stead a boon, however was it brought.
I am no coward, night-thing, not for all
Thy tormenting designs—still have I won.“

“Forsooth? I be the ills of pony-kind
Unchain’d, to work her frettings o’er the world,
But ken this too, my knight who cowers not,
Who keepeth now the past which doth evade
The Sky Herself, the virgin diarchy:
There is a second seed that I would plant,
And cultivated so, brought to its fruit,
Becometh all the meals of the Moon
'til She be broken, and we made the same."

“That seed be but thy self,” spake plain the knight,
“And thine ambitions seepeth out beyond
My stretch of years, as all immortal things,
Yet more have I loosed here than evilness.“

“So shall I see, but thou shalt not, alas!”
The night-mare kissed him, and it burned his poll.
“Do fare thee well, for what life so remains!
The Magick’s mine, with thine a heavy heart!”

She flew a-part, like smoke beneath a sneeze,
And where she was was made material
Cadenza, who flew out from clearing skies.
She landed and beheld the new-born Tree.

“The young and growing Harmony is come!”
She cried and joyous grasp’d the knight.
"The Magick be restored to Æther-Free;
Thy deeds are done, thy quest so seen to close!”

“I wonder at that,” said the grimming knight,
“But ‘tis in sooth enough the Magick grows,
For Thou canst take to wing above the trees
And weave Thy spells as sure as anywhere.”

“No more will Chaos lash this place to Him,”
Said Princess Love, “so shall We make the name
To Ever-Free, by mastery of none,
Not even by mine Aunts who liveth near.“

“The wood hath sorrows still,” confessed the knight,
“And Magick so elusive to its faults;
Above all other Harmony, it shifts—
This one shall be forgotten for a time.”

“Once seed, but now a Spark in coming days,”
Said kind Cadenza. “Let it rest and grow.
The best of it will cometh yet, I know.
That evil seizes ‘pon it now is moot.”

“Moot for our actions, yea, mayhap ‘tis so.
Thine Aunts, my goddesses, live close to here—
In selfsame wood, i’faith, so worry on
For them and what shall pass in coming years.“

She frown’d to that and bowed Her beautied head.
“I mark that grave, O knight, and take its pause.
I pray thou tell’st me what thou means of it
An thou would have Me ken, so speak to peace.“

“My peace be here a-ready;” said the knight,
“No further happiness can I give Thee
Or to Thine Aunts, a mortal as I am.
But I am proven, and the quest is done.”

“So sayest thou, and sure enough in sooth,”
Replied the princess as they walked them home.
“They would receive thee, and give accolade
A-new, an thou wouldst have it as a prize.”

“I would,” said he in nodding, “but a prize
Still better is the one the night gave me,
The darkling creature whom I beneficed.
It turns my resolution to the new.”

The princess there in silence took his words.
A smooth foreboding tickled at Her heart,
And discontent, like ulcers, nested there,
As though the knight somehow had lost himself.

“The Spark will not be found for many lives,”
The knight did say while She did cogitate.
“In interim, the Magick be a tool,
An object for the good or ill of all.
Its service must be brought to Harmony.”

They passed out from the healing Ever-Free,
Where Magick would proliferate itself
Beneath the slitted eyes of a black beast
Whose foul caress would spawn unwelcome things.

Chaos saw the Tree, perceiving doom,
And shifted from the cares of mortal things
To then address a flow’ring Harmony
Which, grown uncheck’d, would send Him to the void.

His passing was felt only latently;
He was not seen again, nor felt in form
Of any due capacity to mark
For years uncounted, ere He battled Sky.
> Dénouement
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


─────────DÉNOUEMENT─────────


questria is home to all the Sky,
And Her great goddesses doth keep us well
Betwixt Her and the earth beneath our hooves,
But Love be yet a youth, unsure in wills.

Like silver-vein in moss the palace rose
Up through the canopy to call them home,
For Harmony would come again, perceived
By all who look’d upon the Ever-Free.

The Throne is shut away from friendly hearths
Which reap its isolation, knowing not
The brooding loneliness of older times
Upon the withers of their princesses.

Now Love, too, had a care for by-gone wills
Which brought their subtleties unto the knight
Where he could not account, but She could see
The machinations of an evil thing.

He offer’d up no words as they returned,
And in each step he took She counted years
Of aging and of toïl on his mind,
Yet still his eyes were clear, his armour bright.

Upon the border of the Ever-Free
The earth had been rent by a giant’s axe,
Or riven by a storm in godly strife.
Upon its passing, he seem’d to be buoyed.

“I’ve made what I shall say,” said then the knight,
“And vexing, marry! will its utt’rance be,
But I am wiser now, for what is done,
And wisdom now asserts its gravity.”

“To be so inward now doth trouble me!”
Replied Cadenza. “Thou shouldst celebrate
The Harmony deliver’d to the world,
Perpetuated by a winsome heart!“

“A worldly Harmony? And what of me?”
He said before the mouth of palace-gates.
“I shall live on, perchance to become old,
Regretting all the Harmony forsook.”

“Thy love will giveth thee all that thou needst,”
She said in praise to him. “With this, my word:
Thou wilt be noble, fit for her to wed,
And shalt not want for happiness again.”

“An happiness I want,” he grimly said
As slowly did the portcullis withdraw
And they make entry to the anteroom.
“What happiness be happiness not earn’d?”

“Thou hast not earn’d it? Be thou then a god?”
Cadenza laughed as they were so announced.
“I pray thee look upon her face but once,
And Love anew will settle It to thee.”

The unicorn was there, from Canterlot,
His love and vision paces from the Throne.
Her coat the bluer than his last recount,
Her mane the whiter for her joy for him.

“He cometh now, he cometh now at last!”
Did cry the maiden, forgetting her place.
“My love return’d by Love, O Highnesses!
I am a nestling bird, new on the wing!”

The Sun was oft to smile in those days,
And here She gave Her laughter with the maid
While soft did Moon regard the knightly face
And saw within him promises for Her.

The maiden charged him then, and they embraced
With fury of relief the parted know
And wish for none, but as she stepped her back
She saw his joy so temper’d by a woe.

“What pains thee here, my knight, my champion?
Thou art deliver’d, and we can be wed
This selfsame day, once thou hast accolade!
Step up and take it; pray, be glad with me!“

“I love thee,” said he soft, “and always will
For all remaining days, O precious one;
Alas for it! the quest hath took its due
And now I can no longer live for thee
Nor I a-side. I ken things I should not,
So given to the sorrows of the land
An I ignore it, would my breath be stole,
A vile pleurisy to torment me
‘til I sleep not again. So will I strike
As I was at the first: a humble knight,
Unstandarded but for my errant will
Which taketh me to what has need of steel.
My love for thee hath broken not, I say;
I’faith, I love thee more than e’er I did,
Though understood it’s to no consequence,
For both our hearts will breaketh just the same
In sadden’d parting. Here our tale ends.“

She plain recoiled, tears sprung to her eyes,
As all her soul was then devour’d in loss
So great she lost her legs. Cradled by Love,
She desperate cried out to him at last:
“My knight! Thy deeds could fill the lyres of
A hundred minstrels! Wherefore seek out more?
The snows of bitterness hath wrung thy heat,
Thy bless’d compassion, leaving but resolve!
I wish a husband; I wish not a knight!
Come home to me, and find thy wellness there,
A gentle life of safety sorely earned,
No winds to cut thee, nor the rain to wash
Into a sodden cloak out in the wild!
What of our children, then? Our progeny!
Am I to be a dam without a foal?
Wilt thou sire none, so forfeiting thy line?
I curse this quest, an it takes thee from me!
I curse the day I fell in love with thee!”

The Moon fell to him. “This be sorcery,
So do I sense it! Something shade within,
A primal ken which sears the inner skin
A-round the soul, and I would banish it.“

The knight stood tall, regarding her with poise.
“O Moon, this can’t be banishèd from me,
For it is Magick pure, within all things,
And facets of the Harmony are here.”

The Sun then spoke: “Yea, Magick without check
Be knowledge cast, both great and terrible.
Our knight was made to see immortal cares
And weighs it with a mortal mind, alas!”

“But this beside,” spake knight, “I see a rift
Betwixt these Two, the Sisters Sun and Moon;
A living omen said as much to me
And she will strong return in by and by.“

“Wherefore thou spurnst me, knight?” cried Princess Love.
“All happiness was thine. Thou turnst thy back?
Two hearts left then to break, both thine and hers?
Thou dost forswear thy cause for questing here!“

He then approach’d his sword, where it had lay
For all his days of absence, left in peace.
He took it up and girt it to his side,
Becoming once again what he had been.

The knight looked to the Sky upon Their thrones
And gave to them the measure of his lot,
An oath a-new, though they had bid it not,
Confession to the ending of his life:

“I learned in seeking Sooth that some would lie,
I learned in seeking Mirth that voices fail.
Ambition would leave Fealty to die,
Benevolence so cowed by cruelty’s flail.
If Charity must stand before all greed
And Magick curseth thoughts, injuring dreams,
Then all the world hath first a greater need
For heroes than for Love, ‘tis made to seem.
All pony-kind arrays to honey’d spice
Of rash delight and softness in their thought;
In pure consumption, so besot with vice,
They would not reck how comfort there is bought.
In steël hence will I go to serve Thee.
I carry not my sword; it carries me.”

The Sun did paw the ground, She whickering
At what had took the knight, her folly full
Rebounding to her: friendship lost for love
Of knowledge, in its merits unapplied.

“O lonely warrior! Thy specious cause
Be selfish in a way thou canst not see!
The Magick’s not in ken alone, forsooth!
A friendship be the fulcrum to its spark!”

“O stark ascetic! Thou wouldst abjure love
And pure contentment for a bloody field?“
Cried out the Moon. “Our quest hath undone thee!
A madness grips thee, fevers of the will!”

“A madness? Pray!” asked knight in grim return,
“What madness danced here ere the ponies came?
What black enduring hatred do we bear,
Which, ever at the corners while we wake,
Would bide for weakness, seeking agency?
Alone Thou livest here, O Sun and Moon,
So far removed from subjects seeking thee!
Equestria, my mother-land, be ill,
And I’m not made to laugh over a grave!
Do I lament this not, as she? I do!
Would that I were the knight thou put to quest
And not the bearer of this heavy vex!
O fortune! two souls hast thou claimèd here!
Mine own, and of my lover, mourning me,
Though for my practices, it matters not:
I can not make her happy ever more.“

To maiden his and Love he said this much:
“I wish not absolution, nor reprieve.
I’ve visited an injury to thee
Which long shall heäl, and I be forgot.
‘Tis better for it; I shall work what good
I can upon the world ere I would die.
Think not of it as ruin, but resolve,
The lasting burden of the valourous
Which naught doth satisfy. I wish thee well,
Though I have set it back, thou must abide
And live on for the joys that we deserve.
Do fare thee well, my loving unicorn.”

He turned his back. She wept to see him leave.
Not Sun nor Moon nor Love barred passage out,
For freedom be the cruelest joy of all,
And never did he there return again.

The Sun so took a lesson to her heart:
Not ever should a pony come to know
So much that she rejects the love of friends
And hangs her up a blessèd fellowship.

The knight took sword into the Ever-Free
And strode the world, as other tales tell.
He ever carried her within his heart
Against the Chaos, bringing Harmony.