Perennial

Mommy. How is your scepter so shiny? Tipped with
blue like a seldom moon.
Why do the grown-ups grow so quiet
when I enter the room?

Mommy, why do knights carry shields of silver,
rippling like water?
Last night, I heard you crying. Am I
not a good daughter?

Mommy, you took me out to see your moon,
and it was bright and full.
How can celestial light so lovely,
bewitch a world so dull?

Mommy, the Fingers said to do some
things I didn't want to.
Will Blaidd get hurt? Will he go away, just like
my Auntie Rellana?

(I hate the curling fingers! I hate the power that they hold!
They're scary and they're cruel and I can't stand to be controlled!)

Mother, you took me out to see my moon,
and it was dark and cold.
I'd love to weave my night, Mother, but I'm
so very few years old.

Mother. I dreamed I'd another mother,
with golden hair and eyes.
With her, might you be happier? Than with
my father, king of lies?

Mother, the lying king absconded, and is
unlikely to return.
What are these tears? Helpless tears. Is it not
with anger eyes should burn?

Mother, I am going out. Out to see
my friend, the snowy crone.
I will come back, but until I do, can you
perhaps abide alone?

(Mom, please forgive me for the duties I've deferred...
On the day that I return, please be as you once were...)

O fair and snowy witch, I beseech thee:
teach me bits of wisdom.
I'll fear the dark moon, as I'm told, if you 
explain what is and isn't.

So the world's like that...? It's shapen wrong? And it
reeks of hurt and sorrow?
O secret mother, grant me frost, for I've
much to do tomorrow.

Mother, I've returned, to find you clutch an
Amber-colored burden.
Who could blame you for retreating from
a world so uncertain?

Like me, you too left Mom alone. Didn't you, 
Dearest brother Rykard?
To show you're strong is easy. But to show you
care, you have to try hard...

And you as well, left Mom alone. Yes, you too,
My brother dear, Radahn!
We know you're strong. So why then, would you hide from
the world that's going on?

And even Ranni left Mother's side. Yes, I,
who loved her the dearest.
I let her lunic eyeglint fade. Now all is
drab and dreadful cheerless.

Penance, penitents. Guilt is vain, and
vanity encumbers.
My amends: I'll ensure that none disturb my
mother's richest slumber.

Iji, let us speak of plans. And formulate
the dark path before us.
Caretaker, give your counsel: how might we make
the Fingers ignore us?

Iji, when we're thus ignored, how will we strike
the fell and fated blow?
I have fragments of a plan, but there is still
so much I do not know...

Blaidd and Iji, are you certain? Is this not
my own dark path to follow?
What lies along the traitor's path? Is it not
sacrifice and sorrow?

(Blaidd and Iji, does what's never spoken stay unheard?
Do you know my feelings, though I fail to say the words?)

I put the pieces in their places. Behold:
Beloved Godwyn golden,
And knives imbued with red and death. My flesh-shed
heresy unfolding.

Godwyn died in soul. And I, in mere body;
unequal sacrifice.
Miquella, mourn. Marika, madden. Morgott,
hunt down the blackened knife.

O Empyrean flesh, burden discarded!
By centipede blasphemed!
I'll not miss you, binding prison. Greatest ends
require bitter means.

O Blaidd and Iji, why so gloomy? It is
no tragedy at all.
What once was princess now is witch. And what once 
was flesh, is now a doll.

Seluvis, I know what lies behind your mask. 
That sickly, sallow leer.
I know you think you'll conquer me, but is it
not you, that ought to fear? 

(Seluvis, it's this you cannot comprehend.
That the meaning of means is found in ends.)

To bide my time and build my plans, while all
around is Shattering.
To weave and wend a finer fate amidst
reality's tattering.

Let Morgott and my brother squabble over
trivial broken runes.
Let my other brother by the serpent be
ingested and subsumed.

Let them war and rampage, and let the land be
senseless torn asunder.
Leave them to their foolishness, leave them to their
endless vile plunder.

Miquella, you're so much like me. All you want
is to raze and rebuild
all that came before. But how can that happen
when it's coerced, not willed?

Is that not what the Fingers did? Did they not
make us unwilling thralls?
Is yours a gentle tyranny? Is it a
jail with ivory walls?

Malenia, what remains of your volition?
Does aught remain uncharmed?
O twins, parallel lines on a slow decline,
spirits twisted from harm.

(We must not let ourselves be ruined by a world so senseless cruel.
To perpetuate one's wounded heart is the sin of greatest fools.)

But,
Despite my best intentions,

Time passes slowly. A heavy fog occludes 
the path of victory.
Vainly search as I face the limitations
of a doll's body.

Even the words become occluded. Even the
meter and rhyme of the moon and stars becomes occluded,
even Iji and Blaidd put on a brave face but
struggle to find the next step along a path
that is by the fog of occluded fate occluded
as my heart is occluded
as the fog that once brought me comfort
surrounds me on all sides
and tells me laughingly
o ranni o ranni haha ranni
silly ranni foolish ranni
you thought you had it all figured out didnt you
you thought you had it all lined up didnt you
but karma came to find you after all
karma came to find and fuck you and its
only a matter of time before it finds you
in the fog and cuts off your path forever
cuts you off from your path forever occluded
occluded occluded occluded occluded
because of that one little thing you missed
that one little thing that could lead you to nokron
which is the only clue you have left to go on
but its occluded occluded occluded
and youll never have a fingerslayers blade
never see this controlled world be saved
the diseased cosmic tyranny will rule evermore
and the rhyme and meter will never be restored
because theres no way forward
no way forward
no way but fog
unless...

Unless a Tarnished, of no name or renown
is beckoned here by grace.
Some woman who lived and fought and died and came
from some other strange place.

Unless that Tarnished, she who came from afar,
finds her own way to me.
Unless she appears and earns the trust of myself,
and of Blaidd and Iji.

Is it absurd to imagine that she might
appear with no intent?
Is it ridiculous to hope that she might
be by wayward fate sent?

Perhaps absurd. Yet she carries the whistle
to call the spirit horse.
And though I spoke lies to her, she treated it
as a matter of course.

Did she pick up on my clues? Does she tire 
of showing obeisance
to Two Fingers? Might she aspire to more
than mere acquiescence? 

I doubt we will again meet. But still, I will
dream of what might have been.
Imagine she might show up at my door, with
a heart prepared to sin.

(Perhaps I'm not so cold as to not be made foolish by emotion.
For I swear that in the manor, I hear serendipitous commotion.)

Tch. What business has she here? What does she hope
to gain in my service?
That imbecilic smile. Whatever could I
have done to deserve this?

Perhaps she isn't here for me. Perhaps she
is here for my cursemark.
Fine. She can have it if she helps me realize
my age of wisdom dark.

And do whatever she wants with my body.
Wait, no, I mean--I mean--
my dead body! Not my naked dollself, which 
Ought best remain unseen.

(Why am I even talking about this? Didn't I give all that stuff up?
I guess I'm not as good at giving things up as Miquella is.
I discarded my Empyrean flesh, but it's strange to think
how even the spirit desires carnality.
But that doesn't matter. I have four hands to take care of
that sort of thing. And I don't need some stupid
Tarnished lady to take care of it for me.
I don't have any intentions or designs upon
showing obeisance to her Two Fingers,
as it were.
If she would spread seeds, 'tis not here she'll sow them.
Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah. Right. The poem.)

Yet it seems that she has earned Blaidd's approval
Which doesn't come easy.
And it's remarkable she's earned the candor
of sly, guarded Iji.

I'll grant her the task, before I slip into
obligatory sleep.
It will not come to pass. I'm sure that it's just
a promise not to keep.

(And so I fall into a slumber rich as mother's.
Sustained only by my trust in others.)

When I awake, I know immediately.
It was not Blaidd, but her.
She is leal. The fateful dagger she hands me,
This simple truth avers.

No. Not merely leal. She's special. 'Twas her that
made the stars move anew.
Who unshackled my fate and turned my fog of
confusion into dew.

But sentiment must pose no hindrance. It would
unmake all I've worked for.
For I must leave it behind--all that I love,
and all that came before.

(Be it beloved, or be it despised.
Nothing that came before on the dark path lies.)

Seluvis, you'll face a fitting end. Though your
service was but shoddy.
Does it wound you that you'll never have a chance
to misuse this body? 

The old aberrations shall pass. The time for
puppetry has ended.
Now. Drink your own vile potion. Your stay of
clemency's rescinded.

And the tying of loose ends continues. Dear
Tarnished, you are banished.
Follow me not along this lonely path, where
into dark I vanish.

O mentor, 'twas for you I named the tower
that I now pass beyond.
I swear I'll keep your torch of cold fire lit,
though you are long since gone.

No longer can I hide by fog-stoppered fate
from Finger-assassins.
But I've a discreet, small second-body doll,
as it just so happens.

Past the men of clay and the fell cosmic beasts
shall I subtly tiptoe.
If fate be on my side, I'll not be noticed by
any Baleful Shadows.

(This plan is foolproof, I think prematurely, 
if I just stay alert.
But the Tarnished woman espies me, picks me up,
and she flips up my skirt.)

Which she assures me was accident! As sure
as evening follows noon!
And she takes my scolding to heart, I am sure,
as dere follows tsun.

Fine. Perhaps it is better to have her here,
her force excelling stealth.
To have a handsome brute like her slay the Shadows,
may be best for my health.

By gracelight, words are whispered. I tell her of
all that has come before,
all that I'll sacrifice in my long struggle,
all my deepest lore. 

She's placid and patient. A fine listener,
eyes all the way gentle.
I speak too much. I scold her for my candor.
She smiles. How simple.

As a test, I threaten her insincerely.
"Flee me. It's not too late.
Will your kindness make you a sacrifice too?"
She doesn't take the bait.

(Fine. Let her be damned by her stupid persistence.
Oh, how shameful loneliness has lowered my resistance!)

The stroke of a weapon, the ring of a spell:
Efficient violence.
My champion cleaves through the baleful shadows
In heroic silence.

When the last is dead, I try again. "Farewell.
Tell Iji and Blaidd
I love them." Did you notice? I said their names
but paid your name no tithe.

If you think I do not love you, then you will
not follow me into
the cold dark realm where only I shall go, where
only I am meant to.

If I push you away, Tarnished, then my love
can never hurt you, right?
Surely a daughter of gold has no business
with one bereft of light!

Don't make it harder to push you away. Please.
Don't follow me through rot,
through dragonkin and stellar grotesqueries,
Erase me from your thoughts.

Erase me from your heart. See the barrier
with the Carian sign?
The moon-crested betrothal ring that opens it, 
is most surely not thine.

Excuse me? You found a key? And you went to
ask my stricken mother?
And she pointed to a chest and seemed relieved
that I'd found a lover?

How absurd. Come no closer! Leave me to my
solemn, heroic doom!
Do not pass the barrier. Do not approach
the altar of my moon!

Adula! Rebuff my persistent suitor!
(don't see me so bloodsoaked,)
Crystalians! Away! Please drive her away!
(body spilling frayed rope,)

Hound of Radagon! Cur of my cursed father!
(don't see my empty eyes,)
Drive her out! If you ever loved your daughter!
(my smile-hidden lies)

And yet still she comes traipsing to the hole of
this blasted cathedral.
She will not be deterred, will she? Save by means
unacceptably lethal.

And here she finds me. Is this what you wanted?
Don't you deserve far more?
Than a broken doll, empty, exhausted and
squalid in finger-gore?

(Look away... Look away...
Please look away...
Don't find me so disgusting that i'm
incapable of being loved please dont
take away your love but tarnished oh tarnished
please go away... I'm tired... I'm so
lonely and tired and sad and exhausted
and its been so long and hard and
the black knives will come soon to
take their vengeance on I, I who used
them and betrayed them, take vengeance on I
by killing everyone I love and what if
what if they come for you too?
what if they come for my champion true?
you still have hope you still have a future
youll make a fine elden lord you could mend
the world by preserving its fractures or
favoring fia and reifying endless life in skeletal
death or wallowing in the curse filling the world with 
angry resentful tearing horns or you could believe in
the sophistries of goldmask you could tell yourself that
this time the order will be perfect this time the gold
will be
pure
or you could melt it all away
if it was you id let you melt it all away
just please
please
please
endure
please leave me to my ruin and do not paint a
knife-target on your unguarded backside
just live and ill let all else slide
please...)

Before I am aware, she's slipping on the
ring that weds a princess.
The crest of the dark moon bestrides my finger
before I've time to protest.

It's inscribed: "Whoever thou mayest be, don't
take the ring from this place.
The solitude beyond the night is better
for I alone to face."

This rich irony bemuses me as I
shed my old husk of doll
as a snake sheds its skin, I reappear so
gleaming as to enthrall.

Outside, moonbeams fall like sweet cream; and the night
air carries our dark dream.
While in this chamber, I appraise my new bride,
my true smile serene.

She has a mien of foolishness, and she
is indeed a rare sort.
Yet her aura is sterling, and she will prove
a most fitting consort.

I give her words of veiled affection. And give
her my dowry-heirloom.
The sword looks fitting to her hands. She is well-
suited to the darkmoon.

I tell her: Become a Lord. I've left behind
my doubt and dithering.
Only making the divine distant can halt
the world's withering.

I disappear, and am everywhere. She once
visits my old tower
and speaks to the tiny doll-of-me about
how I'll wield the power.

She's satisfied, and absconds to challenge the
crumbled divinity;
rebukes the Greater Will so stern, she might well
alter infinity.

Her battle is her own to tell. My part comes
only at the ending.
When she sees my sign and summons me, to start
my work of true mending.

The dark moon appears as vision before us,
beckoning vividly.
It's cold, pale, leaden mist is here to embrace
and guide us endlessly.

I solemnly swear to every living being,
That now, beginneth the age of night.
Here begins the age of faith unseeing,
cooling salve to gold's brutal, burning light.
Here begins the age of human destiny,
uninterrupted and utterly free,
lives to be lived foolishly or cleverly,
unshackled by any visible godly decree.

T'will be by your own hands that the world is improved.
The divine will love you, but at greatest remove.

By your own human hands shall the world be
mended and stitched.
I grant you the chance to make it so, upon my
name as Ranni the Witch.

And now, to embark, we are at full liberty.
Take my hands, fair consort, and to the stars come with me.
Share with me this wisdom-guided voyage millenial,
Be nourished by the cold spring rain of love.
Bloom with me,
perennial.