Frost and Stone

I climbed the walls where giants tread, Through frost and sky and dawn-stained red. To honor flame, my first and last, As I had done cycles past. But fate, it stirred the mountain snow, And brought me hands as rough as stone. They bound me fast with silent pride— Until they bade me sing or die. I sang of peace and fallen names, Of lovers lost in dragon flame. They set me free, yet watched me close— And gave a guide of titan bones. Melaya, tall as breaking trees, With eyes like dusk and voice like seas. A daughter fierce, of ancient line— She swore to guard this life of mine. Through Merk to Veln, we carved our way, With blood and ash and fireplay. And at his cairn, beneath the snow, She sang a song I did not know. A song of war, of love, of pain, Of battles lost but honor gained. My voice met hers in mountain wind— And I was hers from that bend’s end. We fought, we laughed, we drank the storm, Her hands were fire, her arms were warm. In every step, her shadow fell— A shield, a home, a citadel. But goliath pride runs deep and wide, And tribes will curse what they can’t bide. They saw in me the weak, the small— And in her love, the tribal fall. She challenged them, her blood, her kin, Declared my name, cast out their sin. She’d win that fight, I know she would— If not for blades where cowards stood. Her mother struck, and silence reigned— While crimson bloomed in snow and vein. Still dying, she held back their cries— So I could flee with tearless eyes. Now on this bend, I sing her name, Where mountain snow still hides her flame. Melaya of the titan-born, You were my shield through ice and storm. And if the winds remember true— They’ll carry back my song to you.