|The Ballad of Celebration Island|
From the archives of the White Wizard’s tower
On Remer, Dearn and Serpenthelm,
From birth of time four seasons changed,
And yet one island winter ruled,
All year the frost gleamed cold and cruel.
My tale will tell of ancient times,
Before mankind to Remer came,
When in lost seas there bleakly shone,
An ice-bound island with no name.
Jack Frost did haunt this barren isle,
With blizzards he did vent his bile,
And snowstorms with a wind so strong,
That Frost Giants shivered all night long.
The ice that seized up every lake,
Froze all the moisture trapped beneath,
Foul hailstorms fell with slingshot stones,
And made the Snowmen clench their teeth.
In those days Santa was still young,
His stomach trim, his beard full black,
His garbs bright red, his magic green,
He flew atop an eagle’s back.
For travel was his passion then,
Before he bore kind gifts to men,
And so his travels found him lost,
Upon the island of Jack Frost.
‘Who art thou, strange and foolish man?
Why come thee to my realm of ice?
Jack Frost am I and bid you leave,
Be wise and follow my advice.’
Yet Santa saw in loathing awe,
How death did haunt this loveless land,
And knew that it was old Jack Frost,
Who stifled life with his cruel hands.
‘A wager I shall make thee Jack,
Full well I see you hold death dear,
Yet I would see this island thrive,
If only once or twice a year.
When that time comes then leave you will,
And see my magic melt the ice,
Make bounteous forests spring to life,
And welcome pilgrims far and wide.’
‘If I can win this wager Jack,
That is the price which you must pay,
Yet if I fail to foil the odds,
Then I consent to be thy slave.
My magic will be thine to wield,
Which time will slowly magnify,
For I’m still young, still waxing strong,
And Fate decrees I cannot die.’
‘What wager can thou win with me?’
Spat old Jack Frost in haughty spite.
‘I sense thy magic is still green,
Yet mine is black as darkest night.’
‘Deep frozen lakes,’ Santa replied,
‘Lie all around where chill is rife.
Yet I would wager this to thee,
That in them I can spark new life.’
The laugh that retched from old Jack Frost,
Broke avalanches on the heights,
And Polar Bears clawed at their ears,
And Frost Scaled Gamans squealed in fear.
‘Your wager I accept young fool,
For never shall you work this stunt.
What arrogance of youth is this?
How dare you take me for a runt!’
Then Santa flew on Gwainor’s back,
His eagle bore him in swift style,
Until at last he found his way,
To Berian on Mezno isle.
For Santa knew upon these heights,
A secret wept beneath the snows,
A fallen star from days untold,
Had landed there to drown its woes.
And still in death the star did weep,
And in its death lay endless cold,
And Santa bore its corpse on high,
To Lisim’s shores bade Gwainor fly.
A dozen fish eggs swift he caught,
Then smote the fallen star apart,
Then fused a speck of icy star,
Into each unborn fish’s heart.
Jack Frost scoffed loud at his return,
Yet Santa set about his work,
He burnt a hole within the lake,
And left the fish eggs to mutate.
Old Jack beset by wrath did shriek,
A scream that set the night on edge,
And on each sleeping fish unborn,
He cast his spells of icy death.
And yet no spell that he could weave,
Could chill the life within their hearts,
For spiteful coldness can’t eclipse,
The sadness of a fallen star.
And so each fish did spring to life,
Each bearing stripes of different hue,
The first bore purple then the rest
Bore red or yellow, green or blue.
Old Jack did tremble, wracked with ire,
He knew his wager had been lost,
And so to Santa he did pledge,
At certain times to weave no frost.
And on such days grown trees would spring,
From spellcast roots in thawed-out soil,
That Santa planted with fresh seeds,
From forests all around the world.
For he had found his calling true,
To make old things return renewed,
And gifts he gave to one and all,
That they might follow his own call.
"One day (perhaps) I shall grow old,
My roots may thin, my magic wane,
If that day comes, new gifts I’ll give,
To make good things begin again.
So others may take up my call,
In hearts of men I’ll plant new roots,
Fresh gifts I’ll give to spur them on,
Gifts styled upon my festive suit.
A symbol of aspiring peace,
I shall bestow to bring them ease,
To fly aloft and perch not stand,
When lost to bring them news of land.
And love convey this symbol can,
Between a woman and a man,
For two things joined in purpose right,
May yet withstand the cruellest ice.
To mark those days I’ll breed a flower,
With fragments of a fallen star,
Reminding men to spread good deeds,
And from their hearts uproot the weeds.
For all our souls are truly lost,
If we cannot withstand Jack Frost.
Foresee I with this flower’s birth,
That in our hearts will bloom great mirth,
To bring us peace and joy awhile,
Upon this Celebration Isle."
23:27 Arivae[TLO]: is that the drink you told me to have in Aruba? i totally forgot to get one! i have to go back!
21:07 MrZee[fame]: i'm gonna grab Karisade by the Obby pick.
09:08 Donald Trump: How do i build a wall?