darkest_night neesh He was a lonely man. Through no fault of his own he had as many enemies as friends, and yet to his misfortune, friend foe and self alike all made obeisance to those who wished him away. And so he went. He was a lonely man and yet he had the greatest assurance in the world, the knowledge that he was loved. It was not the love that man and woman shared, but the kind a family gave without question. It was a light to him in the wilderness, a harmonic circle, a keepsake to remember his sister whom he could never forget. He had liefer been interred than cast out, but the choice was not his, and his sentence was solitary abandonment. How much worse, he felt, not to be kept from those he loved, but perforce to leave them himself. He went, but he wit well his return, and did not settle, did not cease to be ever going until it was time for his coming. It came now, and none too soon, on the darkest night of the year. It was to his shame to return in darkness, more to his shame than had been his fourteen years in the outlands, living with beasts and as a beast, learning gentle manners from the tigres and subtlety from the boars. His return in the night was a symbol, a forced acknowledgement that he is now more feral than human, that he has become a creature of the night, not a man of the light. His noble birth, his sacred destiny, scorned by this commandment to return by night. He was ashamed to be of his name and heritage, and to so return. He had held his honour in the forests, grown more in dignity and valour than any town man could know, and yet his honour was to be scorned and mocked; he was to return as a thief, a criminal, a piteous man, and he knew all would treat him so, if recognise him at all. Only the thread of his sister's dress tied him to hope, minded him he is loved without conditions, wared him that he is blessed beyond reckoning. A heavily bestowed gift lightly knotted about his wrist, yet even in that desolate dangerous place it held firm, and well he knew it was not the property of thread nor knot to do so, but the propensity of love that empowered her boon. So it would be with him, he resolved, that however ragged he beseemed, his love of man would hold him, and he would be found steadfast and true. Even in his darkest night where no moon could be found, he waxed firm and strode forth bold for his return. He came to the river than led him home, it flowing outward and him in, and a glimmering shocked his benighted eyes. Down the stream flowed flame after flame, each held in shallow cups, each glowing bright with hope and welcome, each lit in his name, sent forth to show his way. The river was as the heavens above, when starlight sets ablaze the most cindry faiths, when even the most astray can find their paths, and our lonely man was alone no more, shamed no more. With head high he came to his kingdom, the land of which governed all earth, and the right to which was his alone. For in the darkest times our friends come to us with their faith. For the forlorn are never the forgot, however so it may seem. For the kingdom we rule ever awaits our time. For to all men and women is wished health, wealth and happiness. 051102 ... Death of a Rose I shall light a candle tonight. 051102 what's it to you? who go blather from