The Ulangar: Book III, Part 8

This continues Book III of the epic I wrote between 1991 and 1996.

After Ulangar had risen from the sheets

and hastened in his morning duties

of cleansing in the clear waters of Ahto

and dressing into fine fabrics soft to touch of red and black

and eating a hearty feast from cheese to apples

he traveled to Adar's chamber to inquire about the night

'Adar son of Nugredth

valiant giant of the wooden staff

tell me of your death inflicted by my son

of the journey to the dark world which none return save us'

To these words Adar this said

'After falling to Tuonela that dark turf of earth

I felt the presence of a great energy

both racing across the sky and surging from below

And from this below a great fellow clad in robes of black

with silver runes covering his black cuffs

and on an ashen staff wielded in his right

rose from the dust and dirt

Sensing danger as is the ability of all my race

I ran at the figure and attempted to tackle

The figure was too swift and he eluded my grasp

and I was thrown to the ground like a child flinging a toy

The man formed wordless words on his lips

and lightning shot from the sky to my tempered flesh

My body only absorbed the energy

and remained free of mar

I rolled onto my knees as he began singing another spell

and I leaped for his legs

This time my aim was true and my grip was strong

and the cloak fell to the earth in humbled silence

All went black until the light returned to my eyes

when I appeared in my bed untampered'