The Song of Brayu Elktracker

"The Song of Brayu Elktracker"

He rode the wind,

From the North,

Running swift as sunrise,

Always staying on course.

Dressed in furs and steel...

A Warrior of the Wolf.

Long legs, quick as lightning,

Racing the great elk.

Body strong as the rolling thunder,

Seeking always his enemy.

Taking a last full measure of joy,

With the falling snow,

Knowing only this moment.

For the Warrior of the cold,

There is only the honor of old.

A warmth eternal in his heart,

This glorious freedom of the hunt,

Glints in his innocent eyes.

All he knows,

Is what he is always known:

"Today we live,

Tomorrow we die."

Far in the nearing distance,

The roles have now reversed,

His other prey now hunts him.

Howling and screaming,

With lust and fury,

Arrived at this place in the trees.

On his journey,

He has found Companions and Friends,

Their cause has long since become his own.

Tragedies of old long forgotten,

He will hunt no more,

He needs not hunt any longer;

The hunt has found him.

In this time and place,

He will stand,

The Warrior of the Wolf,

The Hunter of the North.

Exposed to all the world,

All the moments that have ever been,

Or will ever be.

He raises up his aspect,

The truth inside unleashed.

He takes on his attribute,

Becoming what he has always been,

And never wanted.

Clothed now only in vengeance,

Armed but with steel and belief.

He steps out into the new fallen snow,

And his prey comes to him.

All the life behind gives him clarity,

All the life ahead gives him purpose,

All the life of Brayu Elktracker,

Gives him this moment.

"All things come to the end."

A time to stand and fight,

To finish the hunt.

Time to lose that which is long sought.

Time to fight for his Companions,

His Friends.

He is not alone.

Good Friends he has lost are here with him now,

In this place.

Inside him, a long forgotten fire,

Which has forever shut out the cold,

Warms him once more.

One last time,

The flame bursts forth with a great searing blast.

Igniting in the full light of the two Ladies,

The clouds break open,

Letting starlight and moonlight fall upon the snow.

The Enemy grows bolder, louder - closer it comes.

His Companions slip away,

Into the safety of the shadows,

Of the forest.

Their own paths to follow,

To carry their own burdens.

One Friend secretly remains,

A determination,

To see the Warrior greet the sunrise once more.

The Warrior of Winter,

Throws back his head,

Answering the calls of his Enemies,

With a howl both beautiful and terrible.

The first Enemy emerges,

From the darkness.

Its blood quickly tarnishing the snow,

Red upon the ground,

Dead upon the Moon Wolf's blade.

The Warrior of the Wolf,

Turns to greet the rest of the Dark Ones,

The second and the third they come.

By the dozens,

By the dozens their blood becomes as snow,

More red upon the Earth,

The steel taking its toll.

From the shadows the Warrior's Friend,

Draws his great bow,

The ancient and terrible bow of a long lost,

Departed Friend.

Twin shafts of wood and silver,

As moonlight,

Are carried upon a breeze of wrath,

Guided by faith,

Pierced the hearts of those that serve Darkness.

Many more Enemies fall upon the Warrior,

Attacking him with wave after wave of horror.

The Hunter staggers,

His great steel blade slips from his mighty hand.

His spirit ripped from his grasp.

He fights onward,

More blood of the Dark Ones taints the pure snow,

And now the Warrior's blood also flows.

In the moonlight he is cast and crushed to the ground.

The knife of his Fathers finds his wounded hand.

The sameness inside him

That festers in the Dark Ones,

Fills with light.

More Enemies fall to his strikes,

More of his blood runs into the snow.

In a moment both brief and eternally agonizing,

The Enemy overwhelms him,

Sweeping him under,

Washing him under a wave of fury.

His Friend charges forth,

His wrath seeking a vengeance of rage,

The Warrior's spirit leaps through the Ladies' light,

Asking his Friend to flee.

Honoring the Warrior for all eternity,

His Friend moves to depart,

To not waste the Warrior's blood.

The Dark Ones react,

Seeking the Friend,

Moving their uncontrolled and unending rage,

Toward the Warrior's Friend.

Between the Friend and the Enemy,

The snow and light have come alive!

A White Wolf,

Pure and beautiful as the Winterset sunrise,

Clear and cold,

Launches into the Enemy, once more.

The rest...

The Friend knows only in his dreams.

Before this Great Wolf,

With eyes like the two brightest stars in the sky,

The Enemy falls, their weakness his strength.

In the end,

The Wolf is the same as he has always been...

Swift as sunrise,

Racing the great elk,

Seeking always his Enemy,

Riding the wind,

Strong and quick...

One with the snow.

The Warrior of the White Winter Wolf,

Seen briefly in the mist,

By the light of the twin Ladies,

Giving him life beyond death.

Look for him when the snow falls,

Just beyond sight,

Listen for his song,

Riding the breeze,

Echoing through the trees.

The Wolf sings gently,

On the full moons,

When the ground is fresh with snow,

And the air is clear and cold,

A song he has always known...

The Song of Brayu Elktracker.

-- J.R.H.