A New Feast

The next arc of Geadhain’s great saga is officially underway. This week, on Wednesday, for no particular reason and without any celestial alignments of importance: I finally wrote.

Creativity comes from a well, which I’ve found can be exhaustible, though not permanently drained. After finishing Four Feasts till Darkness—a project that went well beyond my scope or imagining—I had to collect my thoughts, my dreams, my visions of Geadhain and her future. I had to allow myself to recharge all of the energy that I’d spent. And now I have, seemingly, and I’ve returned to the craft as prolific as I was before and with a passion for the series that’s stronger than ever. There are themes of hope and despair, and realms of mythic horror and wonder I have yet to explore.

I can’t say much else about the content I’ve written without treading dangerously close to spoiling the ending to FFTD, so I’ll leave you with the opening poem, as is the series’ tradition (caveat: all of this is strictly first draft material and subject to change).

When comes the rain, then storm, then fire

When comes the pain, the screams, the pyres

Hold hands, hold hope

Give ye not into woe

For He will ascend

—from earthen vault

And miracles bestow

Let us praise him

Let us raise him

Our fallen prince, our frozen Lord

The slumbering drakagor of tales olde

Though beware the waking king

For his other brings

with him,

the Forgotten

the scorned

A shadow, twice born

—from beyond the shores of time

This last, most Hungering Lord

Borne of the gibbering void

Whence stars and light and gloom,

Were made

To be consumed

By the Oldest of the Olde

We walk blindly to our doom

Dazzled by the Golden Age

Ignorant

As the Hungering Lord

Looks on

Waiting

 

— Cant of the Sisters of Celcita