Call to Arms
The Dawn Age
The origin of this ancient song is lost to men. It has passed from one civilization to another with each adding its own flourishes. It is a favorite of bards on quiet evenings, especially if children attend.
The River of Time flowed on before
The Elder Gods of ancient lore
Conceived this world from shore to shore
And with creative purpose bore
All things in their imagining.
So Pyrn, the mighty serpent coiled
While on his back his Kindred toiled
While mountain rose and ocean boiled
Formed by divine envisioning.
The Luminaries then arose.
Each a heavenly dominion chose,
Sun in his glory to propose
That where Moon his beloved goes
He also would be following.
And blushing, Moon demurely fled
Across the sky far overhead
And loves him well, or so it’s said
In Sacred Islands hallowing.
The Seasons then conceived the Plan
Whereby each beast and mortal man
Is born, and in allotted span
Returns to dust where they began
Life and Death e’re cycling.
New minds the will of gods had sown
That they might never be alone
New thoughts enshrined in flesh and bone
Endless variety blossoming.
Spring and Autumn labored sure
To craft a garden: peaceful, pure,
Where life could thrive and grow secure
In paradise that would endure
Unto the world’s unraveling.
But Summer thought to be alive
’Twere empty, dull, unless to strive!
Let mortals struggle to survive
And prove their worth competing.
So while his sisters gaped in awe
He fashioned fang and sting and claw
And tigers stalked with stealthy paw
The paradise that Spring foresaw
Was marred by killers hunting.
Winter then begat a son
Named Craven, God of Fear that one
And all would know to fight or run
From what Summer was unleashing.
From afar Caetar the Brave
Pitied man and to him gave
The gift of fire that he might save
His kin from cold and night and grave,
Deliver them from suffering.
Weapons too, Caetar provided
And mortal hunters Summer guided.
Protected, peaceful, undivided
Man thrived and grew in learning.
Yet Astra, Morning Star still sought
Immortal spirits like her in thought
With Moon and wild magic wrought
The Fey and all their kin and brought
The spirit world to being.
The Fey were drawn by mortal fire,
By love and hatred, fear, desire
To which the Fey could scarce aspire
With cold immortal feeling.
The spirit and material spheres,
Drawn by mortal love and fears
Touched, and over many years
Cloven hooves and pointed ears
Found ways to make a crossing.
So farie folk and all their kin
Through twilight gates came flooding in
And always their delight has been
Mortal joy and suffering.
Thus it was the worlds were wrought
By all the gods’ creative thought.
As each had wished? Perhaps not!
The Dawn Age then unfolding.