Tales of Aeora (1.1)

“A poem discovered in Misram in 127 A.D. (After the Destruction)”

In a land thought unknown, near the Elysian Grove, 
there lived a half-mortal named Medeva, and
‘though her husband forbade it, she practiced strong magic — 
kept a collection of spells on her walls

wrapped up in scrolls, bound in thick leather tomes, 
secrets that had been forbidden,
indexed according to author’s last name, the archivist
kept them locked and well-hidden 

— words of a prince who led Valentian ships, 
recollects the rites of a priestess,
who carried on-board a metaphorical sword,
prayers to the weather and east wind 

— tales of a people who lived in steel cities,
written down by authors unnamed, 
revealed the secrets of gods they worshipped, 
now dead, Medeva watched over their graves

(lost mages’ magic, calculable madness,
Medeva prepared to conquer,
and though there were skeptics who doubted
their existence

she knew they were real by her visions), 

their poems by Kemetians,
the songs of their heavens,
the mouths of their angels in chariots, 
her scrolls had been filled with a divine set of skills
passed down by a collection of ancients — 

the man she wed known as Jason 
the Dread, a member of the Society of Alchemists,
believed her magic was a fool's task, an errand,
passed down from dead preachers of treason,

so they scoured the house, searched for hours and found
a door veiled by a sky-blue woolen rug
spun in a circle and woven in the center — a medallion 
from a story the bards sung. 

(what if they’d known of that secret legend,
would they have recognized a warning to turn 
around? known of that violet iris blooming inside
a diamond studded silver crown?)

but some know nothing of Mystery, 
of that which resides in the Unknown, 
and therefore will fail to discover the source 
of that which calls out from their bones. 

Alchemists entered her chambers, 
silently passed through the halls, 
hoped that soon they’d discover 
the secrets and shelves on her walls. 

Behold, every room they came to
they discovered the door was unlocked, 
but each had been emptied and abandoned,

turned out Medeva had gone and run off… 

not a single book she’d forgotten, 
not even a single line, 
knew she must have taken them with her
— this future, she had divined — 

they turned with hopes to catch her
but the door behind them barred,

the system had been rigged so
they wouldn’t make it far.

Those halls were made of granite, they knew of no escape;
realized long before they got there, she chose to seal their fate. 

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