DISCLAIMER:
SUMMARY:
THE RELDAI
Upon the darkest hours,
As T'Khut rocked gently.
Sat a creature fair and dark,
Fairer still than flaming Las'hark.
There she sat beside a fount,
Contemplating earth and sky.
Far from the firey noon,
Now enfolded in silence as a tomb.
Her eyes raised up towards the orb,
That's crimson rays upon her shed.
And reflected fire in her eyes so cool,
Her image caught in the silent pool.
And there her lips did part to speak,
Upon that night of crimson hue.
Upon the sands of radiant fires,
Glowing beneath T'Khut's gleaming pyre.
"Oh fairest child held within night,
They crimson veil doth dress thee fine.
Our Katras' float luminious in the air,
Yet never shall they be so fair."
"Las'hark, golden browed,
Shines within the light of day.
Golden haired, golden fire,
Flaming warrior, thy amorous sire."
"The Terrans call you by sweet Charris."
Her words were cold, firm, unmoving.
"And yet they are quick to name,
By Earthly Goddess, so sweet, so tame."
"They have no knowledge of thy firey katra,
They know not of your hidden past.
And yet they name you ruddy faced,
They have ner been in your firey space."
And then she turned towards the fount,
Her eyes grew dark within the shades.
And within that ebonized flowing place,
Her reflection showed a beautiful face.
But cared not she for beauty shallow,
Nor fairness shining in the pool.
The fire emanating ore her shoulder,
Was all she allowed to embrace her.
And dreams she gave not to oppose her,
Nor wishes, hopes or forlorn thoughts.
For these were not of her way,
No words of folly would she ever say.
Within her mind so clear, so sharp,
The wisdoms of c'thia did dwell.
And nothing escaped her fire lit eye,
Only logic, only truth did she apply.
Her priestess garments luminious under T'Khut,
Brushed the stone, as feathery wing.
And her ebony hair falling down,
In black floods entwined her round.
She flung her hand towards the storm,
That flared upon the Watcher's face,
And from beneath her crimson wings,
Came wild and bright and ethereal things.
And not a look of pleasure did her eye convey,
Or pride in work so skillfully done.
Nor ecstasy from her accomplished feat,
She approached steadily the oneness to meet.
And winds of searing heat around her flowed,
Bringing a flush a fair cheek.
The crimson sands called out her name,
The very elements beneath her hand were tamed.
There she stood in rapture bright,
Under T'Khut's flaming eye.
And body, mind and katra one,
Her form brighter than Vulcan's sun.
And as the hours of darkness flew,
Among the rocks and stars and sand.
The breath of morn ushered in the light,
And shone upon her fount, golden, bright.
She stirred not under torrid ray of Las'hark,
She moved not once till light was gone.
And in the night she wandered there,
Amidst the cooling nightly air.
And by her fount she raised her voice,
In words so old, not known to most.
They floated up towards T'Khut,
Who answered back in voice...mute.
She raised her face once more to view,
The crimson crowning of the sand.
And contentment flowed from her gazing eyes,
And through parted lips a single sigh.
And from the top of the sacred mountian,
From solid waters lying hushed.
Her katra reached up to meet the calm,
Far above T'Khut's firey song.
And so alone in her oneness,
And so detached from mundane things.
Within rapture's ever moving light,
Within her katra's own flaming flight.
And with no silver seasons flowing,
She wandered upon the sea desert sands.
Seeing all through deep unfathomable night,
Garmented in her own self-light.
Her looks could never be betrayed,
No normal katra could abide.
For she was beauty and beauty she made,
For even in her presence Las'hark would fade.
And there beside her blooming fount,
Of winding tendrils, rare obscure.
She meditates until her visions crystal clear,
Flow out through orbs of T'Khut's Tear.
And then her mind reaches out into the void,
Robed in logic, veiled in truth.
And from the dark, the silence deep,
She lays her head against the fount...sleep.
And even in her morphious state,
Within the realm of the empyrean sphere.
Her katra reaches far and wide,
To bring c'thia upon the tide.
There from her fount all k'weth bow down,
And give her solace from the void.
And pleasure sweeps over her sleeping form,
To give her comfort till Las'hark's coming morn.
A.J.Ward
c.2000
Feedback cheerfully accepted, send to A.J. Ward
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