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(When Everything You Write, Is Something You Already Wrote Before.)

Twice Told,
Twice Old,
A tale long spread throughout the land.

So Often of Men,
And now, once again,
A boy must become a ********, I'm such a hack.

This was a writing assignment in school but I stupidly went above and beyond the required simplistic prose for a fairy tale and churned this out in two days.

The end part was kinda-sorta-rushed, so. Yeah. Apologies ahead of time. ONWARD.




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1.
Byren was born on a day like no other,
His father, the Sun, and the Moon as his mother.
The heavens were black as they danced in the sky,
And would do so forever in the young babe’s eye,
For with Fortune to guide him, and Will stay his hand,
His name would be known all ‘cross the land.

Byren the Great, and Byren the Strong,
“Byren be praised,” would cry out the throng,
For his power was Vast, and his Mind very keen,
Enough to grasp all the knowledge he would soon try to glean.

From teachers and books, from Mage old and wise,
The things he would learn, he’d soon come to prize;
From prize to covet, from Covet to hoard,
In tomes clad in skin his thoughts would be stored.

For with gems in his right hand, and souls in his left,
Mountains he could topple, oceans he would cleft.
And all ‘cross the kingdom, and in all its homes,
They whispered Byren the Terrible, toppler of thrones.

The King Out of Flesh, too dread to name,
Was toppled himself, and buried in flame;
His crypt slowly crumbled, and stones fell like rain,
But the fresh tears of joy were swiftly of pain;
For Byren was angry and in his ire,
Drowned this kingdom, to a man, in unholy fire.

As madness took hold, and settled its roots,
From the top of his head to the soles of his boots,
Byren grew strong, beyond words, beyond might,
Until the King’s gaze did on his shoulders alight.

Around Maehin’s neck circled gold, like a wreath,
In hand, fabled sword made of Angel Teeth.
He stood unspeakably tall, hair brushing the sun,
And Byren knew that the battle was not to be won.

With a bellow like thunder and eyes full of light,
The toppler of thrones faded into the night.

2.
Maehin was wise, too wise some say,
And denied Byren’s soul from fleeing that day.
“For your sins,” he began, eyes clouded with grief,
“You shall be thrust into limbo, and your stay shan’t be brief.”
With a word and a nod, the Angel Fang gleamed,
Starting a torture naught but the sickest could dream.

He was long sealed away and unable to leave,
With pain as the penance, with no time to grieve;
Byren’s madness was broken, slowly but right,
The Black in his heart changing back into Light.

Sword of Deliverance and the Sun as his shield,
As the God-King swift conquered, these tools he did wield;
For born not a man nor wrought just of bone,
His mind was of steel and his heart was of stone,
Else would the halo, so bright o’er head,
Burn not silver with “Glory” but grey with the “dead”.

Yet strong though he was, and more clever than smoke,
Bonds of the soul were unbreakable yoke;
When his daughter returned bearing tidings of peace,
Her dagger swift found his stomach a sheath.
Even Maehin did fade in Time’s steady flows,
Empire crumbled, body food for the crows.

The boy loved by Fate, once in limbo held fast,
Fled to the future to escape from the past.
But the past left its mark and madness its blight;
In the black of the future his soul was too bright.

3.
Alive once again in a skin not his own,
Byren the Terrible remembered alone,
‘Til memory was past and remembrance done,
And Byren’s new mother died holding her son.

Laros by name and street-rat by sight,
Hair on his head an unnatural white,
The child of Fate was soon very thin,
Since scraps of food were a prize now to win.
But he was so mighty, so strong beyond words,
Even lost now within the unfortunate herds,
So when the mages came calling, robes spinning, aglow,
The light-headed boy was among the first ones to go.

Sands in his pocket which now counted Life,
Worlds caught in battle as gods burned in strife,
The stage it was set for the play to begin,
And Laros was destined for Greatness, again.

It came in a dream, as most great things do;
A banner of glory, and corpses that flew.
The sky split asunder with a terrible sound,
As mountains like teeth devoured the ground.
Rich leaves of grass and bark like the night,
The World Tree cast shadows far brighter than light,
As it loomed overhead with a message so grave,
“It Hunts for this world, and this World you must save.”

4.
The Hunger it lived, the Hunger it Craved,
In the dark voids of Space it ranted and raved.
This world too meager, this one too great,
This one’s not healthy, I’m watching my weight,
Madness it spoke, and spoke now to it,
Return to the World, and the World, to the pit.

With purpose he strode, red robes swirling fast,
To the Wastes, now of Old, where he’d died in the Past;
Byren cried out, no place for his fear,
But Laros was needed, and needed right here.

The Hunger descends, spoke the fruit oh so red,
High in the branches too heavy with dread,
Wait for it there, fists raised and clenched tight:
With Death in your left hand, and Strength in your right.

The Living Hunger shivered in, all shrieking mouths and eyes;
“Consume, Consume, the Gods are Dead!” boomed down from the skies.
The Sun and Moon together danced until the end of time,
Dancing in this child’s eyes, still paying for his crime.

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