The Water and the Knife

The Water and the Knife.

A stranger stood beside the well,
Her quiet gaze as cold as rain.
The courtly mage the travelers praised
Had rivers curling at her feet.

She watched the village carry on,
As bored as stone beneath the sea.
Then water climbed the well's old walls,
And every mother cried, "Flee!"

What walks in mortal skin tonight?
The dragon of the silent tide!
Whose will is hidden in her eyes?
The lord whose shelves hold stolen lives!

AI, AI! WHEN THE STILL WATERS RISE!
RUN, LITTLE ONES! HIDE FROM HER EYES!
RUN FROM THE WATER! HIDE FROM THE KNIFE!
THE LORD OF ENVY TAKES MORE THAN YOUR LIFE!
HE KEEPS WHAT HE COVETS, HE CARVES WHAT HE CLAIMS—
IN GLASS LIE THE PIECES, ALL NUMBERED AND NAMED!
Ai, ai... away from the tide!
RUN FOR THE HILLS! FIND SOMEWHERE TO HIDE!

Beyond the roads our dreams have made,
They whisper of a master's hall:
An eye preserved beneath the glass,
A hand displayed against the wall.

He treasures all that's strange and rare,
And studies every scar he finds.
She seals the jars with steady hands,
A servant to his cruel designs.

"As you wish, my lord."

And what becomes of those he takes?
A place among the things he saves.
And does his dragon turn away?
She tends the shelves till break of day.

A dream may raise a marble gate,
A silver bridge above the foam.
A woman steps from water's veil
And follows strangers far from home.

She wears a face the courts have known,
Her ancient wings beneath the skin.
And should she mark a soul as rare,
Her master's work may soon begin.

They say she kneels before his blade
As others kneel to beg for life.
Her voice stays calm, her hands stay still;
She guards the keeper of the knife.

Why would she serve a lord so cruel?
Some vows are deeper than the sea.
And if his shadow crosses ours?
Then child, be wiser. Turn and flee.

WATER AT THE THRESHOLD!
A SHADOW AT THE DOOR!
ONE MORE JAR UPON HIS SHELVES!
AND STILL HE HUNGERS MORE!

"Grandfather... could the water follow us here?"
"If it rises where no rain has fallen,
run, little one."
"Are there dragons in other worlds?"
"Aye. One wanders between them.
He carries an ancient book,
and opens doors where only sky once stood."
"Is he a monster, too?"
"Some call him a blessing.
Others pray he passes them by."
"Tomorrow...
the tale of the Rift-Walker."
[End]

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Ah, you've returned, little ones. Come close. Keep the fire alive. Last night, the azure wind brought golden banners. Tonight, listen for the water. Far away lies Sullon, where dreams take shape and walk among us. There, a gentle face hides an ancient dragon. And wherever she goes... her master's knife is never far. The Water and the Knife. A stranger stood beside the well, Her quiet gaze as cold as rain. The courtly mage the travelers praised Had rivers curling at her feet. She watched the village carry on, As bored as stone beneath the sea. Then water climbed the well's old walls, And every mother cried, "Flee!" What walks in mortal skin tonight? The dragon of the silent tide! Whose will is hidden in her eyes? The lord whose shelves hold stolen lives! AI, AI! WHEN THE STILL WATERS RISE! RUN, LITTLE ONES! HIDE FROM HER EYES! RUN FROM THE WATER! HIDE FROM THE KNIFE! THE LORD OF ENVY TAKES MORE THAN YOUR LIFE! HE KEEPS WHAT HE COVETS, HE CARVES WHAT HE CLAIMS— IN GLASS LIE THE PIECES, ALL NUMBERED AND NAMED! Ai, ai... away from the tide! RUN FOR THE HILLS! FIND SOMEWHERE TO HIDE! Beyond the roads our dreams have made, They whisper of a master's hall: An eye preserved beneath the glass, A hand displayed against the wall. He treasures all that's strange and rare, And studies every scar he finds. She seals the jars with steady hands, A servant to his cruel designs. "As you wish, my lord." And what becomes of those he takes? A place among the things he saves. And does his dragon turn away? She tends the shelves till break of day. AI, AI! WHEN THE STILL WATERS RISE! RUN, LITTLE ONES! HIDE FROM HER EYES! RUN FROM THE WATER! HIDE FROM THE KNIFE! THE LORD OF ENVY TAKES MORE THAN YOUR LIFE! HE KEEPS WHAT HE COVETS, HE CARVES WHAT HE CLAIMS— IN GLASS LIE THE PIECES, ALL NUMBERED AND NAMED! Ai, ai... away from the tide! RUN FOR THE HILLS! FIND SOMEWHERE TO HIDE! A dream may raise a marble gate, A silver bridge above the foam. A woman steps from water's veil And follows strangers far from home. She wears a face the courts have known, Her ancient wings beneath the skin. And should she mark a soul as rare, Her master's work may soon begin. They say she kneels before his blade As others kneel to beg for life. Her voice stays calm, her hands stay still; She guards the keeper of the knife. Why would she serve a lord so cruel? Some vows are deeper than the sea. And if his shadow crosses ours? Then child, be wiser. Turn and flee. WATER AT THE THRESHOLD! A SHADOW AT THE DOOR! ONE MORE JAR UPON HIS SHELVES! AND STILL HE HUNGERS MORE! AI, AI! WHEN THE STILL WATERS RISE! RUN, LITTLE ONES! HIDE FROM HER EYES! RUN FROM THE WATER! HIDE FROM THE KNIFE! THE LORD OF ENVY TAKES MORE THAN YOUR LIFE! HE KEEPS WHAT HE COVETS, HE CARVES WHAT HE CLAIMS— IN GLASS LIE THE PIECES, ALL NUMBERED AND NAMED! "Grandfather... could the water follow us here?" "If it rises where no rain has fallen, run, little one." "Are there dragons in other worlds?" "Aye. One wanders between them. He carries an ancient book, and opens doors where only sky once stood." "Is he a monster, too?" "Some call him a blessing. Others pray he passes them by." "Tomorrow... the tale of the Rift-Walker." [End]

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