Fireflies could never be as loved as one small pixie,
Nor have they light within their minds to fight with demon hordes,
Though tales of lightning bugs are told through the land of Dixie,
A tiny, flighty redhead’s shine is brighter, by all accord

It’s said: Four dark souls took up to be the Legends of Kallisti,
And when, upon this waif, they came, she charmed them, all and one.
She died not once, but thirty times, it’s said of li’l Misty
And even then, she died some more, before her work was done!

Her demons friends protected her, shielding Clearmist from harm,
Lightning storms and hail, she hailed – in the middle of the day;
To trolls and dragon’s kin flew they, by wing and magic charm,
And beat with fists and magic, swords flashing all the way!

The truth was, though: This faye had only bested with her heart;
For, though she’d flit across the world with her four favorite souls,
This little blink was pixie-dust without her friends’ dark art –
So, she would say her season’s wins were a mere few cave trolls!