[**Lyrics contain ⚠️ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⚠️ about Rhialto the Marvelous from the works of Jack Vance**] Silence settles on the last veranda of the world Spectacular cloaks drifting in the dying breeze As Rhialto adjusts a jeweled clasp to hide the tremor in his hands The sun hangs swollen and bleeding And the wizards blame A certain someone’s misuse of ancient energy Yet Rhialto drinks his spiced wine and pretends not to notice The universe losing color around him He frowns as Ildefonse files another complaint This one about improper levitation technique during formal gatherings The world is ending Mountains crumbling to gray powder And still these ancient sorcerers argue over posture and spell-forms like bureaucrats trapped in eternity Rhialto smooths his shining hair Muttering Must a gentleman face apocalypse with creased sleeves Stars wink out like bored spectators The sky collapses into bruised geometry And deep in the dark Something old stirs again A memory he cannot quite name He stands on the rim of existence Half laughing half grieving Watching the last colors fall from the fields of time Elegant to the end A sorcerer wrapped in fading glamours Wondering if the universe ends because he finally ran out of care A distortion screams across the horizon Is it the Murthe’s vengeance Perhaps a broken ioun stone factory collapsing Or some ancient petulant god Finally collecting overdue debts Rhialto contemplates the destruction Shrugs And makes a note to look into that later Fully aware there is no later left to look into For all his vanity For all his precise etiquette There is a quiet memory buried beneath the smirk A moment when he walked through a field of living crystal With someone who believed he could change She has long been reclaimed by entropy And Rhialto pretends the sting is merely A cold wind on the last terrace But the sorrow is older than the sun The other wizards gather to debate how to divide the remaining privileges of a dying universe One wants exclusive rights to the last waterfall One demands to own twilight One insists that Rhialto must finally apologize for that incident with the floating nymph Two centuries ago He waves them away What does apology matter when the stars themselves can no longer remember their names A fissure opens across the horizon Light like molten sapphire spills out Is it a summons Perhaps, an ending Or a jest from a dead cosmos Rhialto gathers his cloak and steps toward the glow He stands on the rim of existence Equal parts pride and sorrow The last gentleman of a burning age If doom must come Let it find him immaculate Spells prepared Smile intact Ready to greet oblivion as if it were an invited guest A final lonely ioun stone flickers then dims Rhialto’s silhouette against the collapsing sky Smug Sorrowful And impossibly himself
