I
Beneath the banners pale with dawn,
Where storm-lit shadows lie,
A squire knelt before the silver queen
With steady heart and downward eye.
“My lady of the starlit crown,
Your throne is far above;
I am dust beneath your feet —
Yet dust might dare to love.
“Grant me no oath, nor promise sworn,
Nor place at hand or throne;
Only a kiss before the war,
To carry when I’m gone.
For when the Rift should call my name
And darkness take my breath,
I’ll spend my mortal heartbeat there
To purchase you from death.”
II
She heard, but answered not at first —
For queens are taught to stand
Where love is sacrifice, not claim,
And grief holds tight the hand.
Yet in her gaze a tremor stirred,
A softening unshown;
For though she wore immortal years,
She walked the field alone.
And so they rode to battle’s gate,
Where stone and fire met sea;
His shield before her glittered bright —
Her sword fell true and free.
Then dawn cried out, and trumpets broke,
And terror split the sky…
And somewhere in the clash of blades
Her mortal knight did die.
III
No cry he gave, no plea for aid —
Just stillness in the spears.
The Tree upon his shattered shield
Was washed with salt and tears.
They bore him from the reddened field,
And laid him where he fell —
And still upon his silent lips
His final promise dwelled.
It was not till the trumpets ceased,
Till thunder lost its roar,
That she, the Queen of Teraniel,
Found space to feel once more.
Then love, too late, broke through her breast
Like spring beneath the snow —
And grief became the only blade
She had the strength to know.
IV
“O foolish heart, that feared to speak —
O faithful heart, so true.
Had ages all been mine to give,
I would have given you.”
She cast aside her crown of gold,
Her tears like falling rain,
And strode alone into the Rift
To kiss his lips again.
No spear nor talon barred her path,
No terror made her yield;
For love had found her in the dark
And marched her to the field.
She held him close — her fallen knight —
And kissed his lifeless brow…
And there the Queen of Teraniel
Found peace at last — and now.
V
So sing, O halls of elven stone,
Of mortal hearts made bold;
For never in six ages’ span
Was braver love foretold.
And when the star-winds stir the leaves
And night is deep and wide —
Two shadows walk the Rift in peace,
Forever side by side.
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