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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Poems & Songs
- Published: 10/05/2023
The Warrior Stone
Born 1959, M, from Stoke, United KingdomThough we searched high and low
In places that only monsters go
Through mountains where the eagles fly
And valleys where the dead still lie
Through the darkness of the ominous caves
Lined with bodies of broken slaves
And along the old kings castle walls
Where still the sound of wailing calls
Through all the hamlets in the land
Among the wary and the damned
From battlements to battleground
The warrior stone could not be found
For many years the warrior stone
Had sat beneath the royal throne
It’s strange magic making sure
The border walls were held secure
It’s secrets passed from King to heir
But the second born was hidden there
In jealousy he stole the warrior stone
Hoping to steal his fathers throne
hiding the stone deep in the blackwoods fen
He was retracing his steps back but then
With the night came the harrowing fog
He stumbled and drowned in the Blackwood bog
With the loss of the stone the border walls fell
Exposing the realm to the forces from hell
The sun was clouded as swarms of locusts descended
Demons swarmed over the walls undefended
The king and his men were soon overcome
The prince and his family were ordered to run
Demons hunted and plundered, murdered and enslaved
Devouring the blood that they had long craved
Humanity fought bravely but were slowly diminished
Within a decade it seemed they were finished
The Prince had spent the time searching and fighting
Behind his banner the last of his people uniting
Weary and tired, finally they stood
With the Hellborn behind them and faced the bogs of Blackwood
Certain death or just death, he thought with a curse
The choices we make, none better, all worse!
As darkness descended, along with the fog
He and his people entered the bog
In front his boy, barely twelve years old
But a proven fighter, clever and bold
Confidently choosing the path to set them on
But a moment later, he was gone
The prince ran forward as fast as he could
Only to see him stuck in the bubbling mud
He threw him a rope and called to his men
And braced himself to pull him out again
But the bog wasn’t easily defeated instead
It pulled the boy down until only his head
Could be seen above the mercurial land
Slowly it disappeared, just an arm, then a hand
Then the rope went slack and the prince fell to his knees
Begging his Gods to respond to his pleas
Then suddenly a strange light through the water burned
And the hand broke the surface as the boy was returned
Slowly his figure emerged from the mire
Dripping mud as he rose higher and higher
Stood on a pedestal that spun slowly round
And dropped by the prince onto the ground
The prince bent down and rubbed off the mud
And started to tremble there where he stood
With a voice full of emotion he did quietly intone
Gentlemen, we are looking at the warrior stone
He knelt down before it and grasped it tight
Suddenly Blackwood exploded with light
A ball of fire formed high overhead
Then flattened out as it started to spread
Locusts burst into flame and then into dust
All over the country demons started to combust
As lightening fired down from the fire cloud overhead
Within minutes all the demons were dead
The border walls reversed their decomposition
As the displaced stones moved back into position
Across the realm people started to appear
Realising the truth they started to cheer
Time moves on, Kingdoms change over years
History turns into legends and then disappears
Rewritten by rulers, twisted and awry
It becomes whatever you want it to be
In these fair islands there still lies a stone
That still sits beneath a royal throne
An English throne with a Scottish heart
Let no man take the two apart
At some point in the past, a change to its name
It’s just words, the stone remains the same
For while every stone carries its own history
This one carries our destiny
The Warrior Stone(Tallisman)
Though we searched high and low
In places that only monsters go
Through mountains where the eagles fly
And valleys where the dead still lie
Through the darkness of the ominous caves
Lined with bodies of broken slaves
And along the old kings castle walls
Where still the sound of wailing calls
Through all the hamlets in the land
Among the wary and the damned
From battlements to battleground
The warrior stone could not be found
For many years the warrior stone
Had sat beneath the royal throne
It’s strange magic making sure
The border walls were held secure
It’s secrets passed from King to heir
But the second born was hidden there
In jealousy he stole the warrior stone
Hoping to steal his fathers throne
hiding the stone deep in the blackwoods fen
He was retracing his steps back but then
With the night came the harrowing fog
He stumbled and drowned in the Blackwood bog
With the loss of the stone the border walls fell
Exposing the realm to the forces from hell
The sun was clouded as swarms of locusts descended
Demons swarmed over the walls undefended
The king and his men were soon overcome
The prince and his family were ordered to run
Demons hunted and plundered, murdered and enslaved
Devouring the blood that they had long craved
Humanity fought bravely but were slowly diminished
Within a decade it seemed they were finished
The Prince had spent the time searching and fighting
Behind his banner the last of his people uniting
Weary and tired, finally they stood
With the Hellborn behind them and faced the bogs of Blackwood
Certain death or just death, he thought with a curse
The choices we make, none better, all worse!
As darkness descended, along with the fog
He and his people entered the bog
In front his boy, barely twelve years old
But a proven fighter, clever and bold
Confidently choosing the path to set them on
But a moment later, he was gone
The prince ran forward as fast as he could
Only to see him stuck in the bubbling mud
He threw him a rope and called to his men
And braced himself to pull him out again
But the bog wasn’t easily defeated instead
It pulled the boy down until only his head
Could be seen above the mercurial land
Slowly it disappeared, just an arm, then a hand
Then the rope went slack and the prince fell to his knees
Begging his Gods to respond to his pleas
Then suddenly a strange light through the water burned
And the hand broke the surface as the boy was returned
Slowly his figure emerged from the mire
Dripping mud as he rose higher and higher
Stood on a pedestal that spun slowly round
And dropped by the prince onto the ground
The prince bent down and rubbed off the mud
And started to tremble there where he stood
With a voice full of emotion he did quietly intone
Gentlemen, we are looking at the warrior stone
He knelt down before it and grasped it tight
Suddenly Blackwood exploded with light
A ball of fire formed high overhead
Then flattened out as it started to spread
Locusts burst into flame and then into dust
All over the country demons started to combust
As lightening fired down from the fire cloud overhead
Within minutes all the demons were dead
The border walls reversed their decomposition
As the displaced stones moved back into position
Across the realm people started to appear
Realising the truth they started to cheer
Time moves on, Kingdoms change over years
History turns into legends and then disappears
Rewritten by rulers, twisted and awry
It becomes whatever you want it to be
In these fair islands there still lies a stone
That still sits beneath a royal throne
An English throne with a Scottish heart
Let no man take the two apart
At some point in the past, a change to its name
It’s just words, the stone remains the same
For while every stone carries its own history
This one carries our destiny
- Share this story on
- 11
Lillian Kazmierczak
12/11/2023Tallisman, this was fantastic! My favorite of yours so far. The poem revealed a wonderful story and I believe a warning about destiny. A fantastic short story star of the day!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
12/11/2023Aloha Tallisman,
Could be the opening of a "Epic Adventure." Loved it, and yes, it does sort of have an Arthurian ring to it. You paint a pretty picture of a world that lures us in.
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Donald Harry Roberts
12/11/2023Ever and anon we write that one thing that shines brighter than the sun even though its edges are set in a penumbra. This you have accomplished with this poetic styles tale. Welcpme to Story Star Day.
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COMMENTS (10)