A Shadow's Lullaby

Higher Being of Root

                                                          
                              These words are for you and you alone.

              In union to my dearest Wyrm, in the formation of our soul shared, we made an oath-bound by seals unbreakable. Promises of protection through a once immortal charm proven, upmost loyalty and devotion for one another alongside the kingdom we foster proudly. A kingdom of enlightened bugs, bugs we invited to follow us with the free will of choice. A nest we pledged the first and the last through our hallowed focus: my dearest's beacon of light, and my careful guidance for those seeking, all in the effort for our new family to be free in thought, creative in mind, understanding in heart, and upmost eternal in nature.

Though I am not proud of my role in our grand kingdom's recent stained history, to save it from being cast aflame by an archaic enemy, I would never undo what I have done. Though both our actions are ultimately selfish in nature, I longed for a future free of that evil blaze, free for my family that I vowed to protect. I followed my oath, my duty to my kingdom and my King. If that cruel blaze were I, it'd see my actions as self-sacrifice; they are not. In that saddened acceptance of truth alone my moral compass is proven clearer. I know what I have done, why it was done, and the betterment of my people for it.

Despite it all, it is still a painful memory to recall.

Unspoken to my dearest, there was doubt that day. Anger even, I dare say. I care for all my children! I gave myself for them to grow until I let them ride the lost breeze in hopes of finding their own pathways to enlightenment and meaning. To deliver them to the world through a union so holy, then to cast them away... To drown them in the effort to wash away the violent blaze threatening our Kingdom's very being. It had to be done; the blaze would have destroyed the haven we built so all could see with their own eyes. I knew why it had to be done, yet still... My nature tore from my oath; my mind split, I was at war with myself. I felt I couldn't possibly agree to choose one child over another, but a decision was eventually made final.

It is with a weary gaze I look to my darling's precious mistake in resentful understanding, with sorrowful dark humour I saw him grow attached to a ghost day after day. I saw the unforgivable sin against my spawn I worried I'd commit in time, to love their non-living corpses. That soulless void that devoured them. But I continue to stand valiantly against such feelings, where I see my Wyrm has now slithered and suffered silently. My bright love, my heart; I mourn for our future in kind. What could have been I have dreamt of often, yet I know you will refuse to hear of it. A kingdom without a blazing fire to worry over, instead a swarm of little ones for us to grow fond of. Hundreds of skittering steps in our palace growing louder with each passing day. Many little ones for you to love without faulter and make into brave noble young knights. What could have been... I felt it those days where it was still possible. I saw it all burn, cast out away from our grasp that day.

What could have been was wonderful while it lasted.

I sat in that small room from their conception to their departure. Surely my back was engraved into the seat! But I could not leave them be, selfishness again consuming me. My presence was surely a cruel trick, an illusion of their future to come. I could not help myself. I had to be with them. I made certain that the room was comfortable, white light shining yet not blinding, the pale shimmering leaves dangling from the ceiling twirling in the air like watchful guardians. The light sweet perfume of lemonade flowed around the room, waltzing alongside my own earthy aroma.

I sang to them softly. The palace has always been so quiet, too quiet for any little one to live happily. It recalls dear departed Lurien's reports of the city above us, where children play noisily in the music of soothing rainfall. I wish my little ones could have seen it, could have played there as well. In the palace the smallest wandering whisper echoed throughout the shimmering leafy halls, most certainly my song did as such. My Pale King will not tell me if he heard the melody. Saying so, I do not recall if he was on his throne above us or cast far off, buried in his darkened workshop far below out of sight from our ever-loyal court. I was not giving his presence any mind to truly notice, our shared soul for a rare moment was torn and blind to each half. My focus was solely on my spawn. The palace around that room was nothing but ash to me. That crib was the only beacon of light for a time.