A poem of silent guardianship from Boldolph and Morrigan’s perspective.
The storm broke open,
but we did not howl.
Not yet.
We watched the smoke rise,
the fire crackle
beneath berry-stained hands
and ash-painted cheeks.
The child had come ,
wrapped in fox hide,
named in thunder,
blessed in fear.
They called him Stormborne.
We called him ours.
Boldolph’s breath held steady.
Morrigan’s heart ached with memory.
And though they danced and sang,
we knew
the wind had changed direction.
We were not there for the feast.
We were there for what comes after.
When the songs fall silent
and the prophecy begins to walk.
© StormborneLore. Written by Emma for StormborneLore. Not for reproduction. All rights reserved.
.Further Reading
https://stormbornelore.co.uk/the-saga-of-taranis-stormborne: Silent Guardians of Stormborne: A Poem and Artisan Tokens
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