![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/The-Elders-Lullaby2.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nThe Elder sits inside her home,<\/p>\n
Crouched on her creaking chair\u2013<\/p>\n
Her figure like a vulture’s, which<\/p>\n
Roosts by the fire there.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Her fingers weave some shadow plays<\/p>\n
That dance across the room<\/p>\n
To illustrate her whimsical song,<\/p>\n
Whose echoes pierce the gloom.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Her hoarse voice stirs the dusty air<\/p>\n
That fills the lonesome hut<\/p>\n
Till distant noises greet her ear<\/p>\n
And through the shadow cut.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The sounds of limping footsteps stop<\/p>\n
Outside her ancient door;<\/p>\n
At once, her song becomes a sigh<\/p>\n
Loosed from her weary core.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The door’s pushed open, and a man<\/p>\n
Invades her private space.<\/p>\n
His silver armor’s marred by blood<\/p>\n
While bloodless is his face.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Her solemn eyes of charcoal black<\/p>\n
Turn toward the sudden guest,<\/p>\n
Whose back bends under unseen weight,<\/p>\n
Whose hand rests on his chest.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A tainted, tattered flag is clutched<\/p>\n
Within that quivering grip.<\/p>\n
He moves to speak, but no word leaves<\/p>\n
His pallid, shivering lips.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“O valiant knight,” the Elder starts,<\/p>\n
“You’ve braved a journey long<\/p>\n
To reach this place that’s countless times<\/p>\n
Slain those whose pride burned strong.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But those whose souls desire peace,<\/p>\n
My forest welcomes them\u2013<\/p>\n
Those shackled by fatigue and loss,<\/p>\n
By sufferings rendered numb.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Which one are you, o wayward knight,<\/p>\n
A brave fool on a quest<\/p>\n
Or a world-wearied wanderer,<\/p>\n
Abandoned and unblessed?”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The gray-haired man speaks, eyes aglow,<\/p>\n
“A wanderer I am now,<\/p>\n
Whose kingdom is forever lost;<\/p>\n
To no\u00a0lord I am bound.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Struck by her deep, discerning gaze,<\/p>\n
The knight’s compelled to tell<\/p>\n
The reason why he sought her out\u2013<\/p>\n
Why to despair he fell.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The man recounts in full a tale<\/p>\n
Of treachery and deceit,<\/p>\n
Of upheld duty, shattered vows,<\/p>\n
Of struggle and defeat,<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Of how some noblemen succumbed<\/p>\n
To foreign bribes and greed,<\/p>\n
And how his king and kin and peers<\/p>\n
Were felled like worthless weed,<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Of how one fatal masquerade<\/p>\n
Killed years of hard-won peace,<\/p>\n
And how the flood of innocent blood<\/p>\n
Was spilled and would not cease,<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Of how he was entrusted with<\/p>\n
His injured pregnant queen,<\/p>\n
To whom a makeshift burial soon<\/p>\n
Was given, all unseen.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
With his queen’s last command fulfilled,<\/p>\n
He made a swift return<\/p>\n
To find a ruin drowned in flames,<\/p>\n
Which made his stomach churn.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He speaks of how, by wrath possessed,<\/p>\n
He bathed his blade in blood<\/p>\n
Of plundering traitors till a hill<\/p>\n
Of mangled corpses stood.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He speaks of how he searched for days<\/p>\n
For any sign of life<\/p>\n
Beside the maggots, flies, and crows.<\/p>\n
Sharp was grief’s twisted knife.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
His people and his home were gone<\/p>\n
While all their allies fled<\/p>\n
And reveled in the hell they’d raised<\/p>\n
Amid a sea of red.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Among the rubbles, only he<\/p>\n
Survived the cowardly plot.<\/p>\n
For years, he fought for vengeance, but<\/p>\n
His efforts were for naught.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Spurned by his gods, chased like a dog,<\/p>\n
For many months, he roamed<\/p>\n
Till rumors of her reached his ear<\/p>\n
And led him to her home.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Revenge and justice he still craves<\/p>\n
For all the lives betrayed,<\/p>\n
But since he’s helpless, weak, and lost,<\/p>\n
He seeks the Elder’s aid.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Elder ponders every word<\/p>\n
As somber silence reigns;<\/p>\n
Then tenderly, her verdict rings,<\/p>\n
“I recognize your pain.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But my aid has a price: your soul<\/p>\n
Removed from Heaven’s grace\u2013<\/p>\n
Tormented evermore within<\/p>\n
Damnation’s cruel embrace.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Is such a wretched end what one’s<\/p>\n
Immortal soul yearns for?<\/p>\n
Dear child, it’s not too late to leave;<\/p>\n
Wide open is my door.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The knight beholds his gentle host,<\/p>\n
And nothing more is said.<\/p>\n
The look on his gaunt face is one<\/p>\n
Worn by the hollowed dead.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Then come\u00a0to me,” the Elder breathes,<\/p>\n
“Place your head on my lap.”<\/p>\n
He does as told, much like a child<\/p>\n
Soothed in his mother’s grasp.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Elder’s voice conceives a song\u2013<\/p>\n
Her lullaby of old,<\/p>\n
Whose mystic lyrics from her lips<\/p>\n
Melodically unfold.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This song she’s sung for centuries\u2013<\/p>\n
A poison and a balm\u2013<\/p>\n
Both comforts and condemns a soul<\/p>\n
Unto a fleeting calm.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The spell of her primeval tongue<\/p>\n
Enshrouds the kneeling knight.<\/p>\n
In her cold arms, his form grows lax,<\/p>\n
And hazy is his sight.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The words whose meanings he knows not<\/p>\n
Eclipse his tortured mind.<\/p>\n
The stiffness of his being fades,<\/p>\n
And respite he soon finds.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“You’ve done your best, dear child, so rest.<\/p>\n
For now, let your pain cease.”<\/p>\n
He heeds the Elder’s soft command<\/p>\n
And shuts his eyes, at peace.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The fire roars, the darkness writhes,<\/p>\n
The Elder’s shadows spread<\/p>\n
To bring a plague that haunts her prey<\/p>\n
Till all their blood is bled.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
________________________________________<\/span><\/p>\n Ngo Binh Anh Khoa is a teacher of English in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. In his free time, he enjoys reading fiction and writing poetry for entertainment. His speculative poems have previously appeared in Eternal Haunted Summer, Spectral Realms, Weirdbook, Star*Line, and other venues.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Andrea Alemanno\u00a0 is\u00a0a compulsive illustrator \u00a0who fills the line spacing, preferably at 300 dpi.<\/span> THE ELDER’S LULLABY, by Ng\u00f4 B\u00ecnh Anh Khoa, artwork by Andrea Alamanno The Elder sits inside her home, Crouched on her creaking chair\u2013 Her figure like a vulture’s, which Roosts by the fire there. Her fingers weave some shadow plays That dance across the room To illustrate her whimsical song, Whose echoes pierce […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[86,3,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4264","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-issue-61-archive","category-main","category-poetry"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4264","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4264"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4264\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4280,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4264\/revisions\/4280"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4264"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4264"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heroicfantasyquarterly.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4264"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nHe\u2019s\u00a0 from Italy and loves to move into a new city searching for inspiration. In every city,\u00a0 he constantly keeps drawing.\u00a0 Now, 3 decades later (and a little bit more), he is\u00a0 still drawing and learning something new everyday.\u00a0 He loves the traditional touch into a digital tools world so uses pencil, ink and digital colors to give life to his artwork.\u00a0 Sometimes he shares his knowledge with wannabe illustrators.\u00a0 His work has been selected for several awards\u00a0and\u00a0<\/span>he\u2019s currently working for Italian and international publishers.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"