Chapter 8: Return

 

I leap

 

Back

My prince, no prince

Is back.

 

Strapped down

A branding iron closing in

In the middle of town square.

 

Cheers and ruckus loud around

Mage working magic black

Like smoke in rings surrounds them.

 

Dead – he will die. The mark

Will kill him. His magic is too closely linked

To flesh, to heart, to core.

 

His magic is a magic of the body – his flesh

Can sing, become a different thing.

From beast to bird to man again.

He’ll die if that thing touches him.

 

My right palm burns.

My left palm sings –

Lavender light flings

The mage away.

A moment’s breadth – surprise.

Too late.

 

The brand burns above his heart.

Death is sinking in.

I must chase it away.

 

Lavender light bleeds

From my palm into the knotted mark.

What else, but hope?

A wish.

A desperate act.

 

The mage is stirring now.

The crowd cheers.

 

Wish, hope, sing.

Impossible thing – he lives.