"I like this man," he answers back, "I'm interested, I have to say! I've watched him now for many a day. He laughs and plays and documents tack, Wields awesome tools of magic might, Writes worlds of heroes in the night... But who is this man who weaves these spells? Collects strange goods? Sings in the woods? Whistles at death? Values each breath? What is his vision? What is his mission? He's searching for something, so it seems to me, A meaning, a story, or reason to be?"* *In a whisper the Shadow replies, "Does he not know? Why does he wait? Is it his song that has numbed him to fate? How strange he has missed it—can't he see— The players each gave him a horcrux for free."*
![The Book [ii] post](https://www.mintme.com/fr/media/cache/resolve/avatar_large/uploads/images/26555720-c495-11ed-8a37-78e3b517e592.jpeg){kind=avatar}
When the clouds press close, and shadows stay, Know that the sun still hides in play. This weight you carry is not forever, And even the darkest ties can sever. Lean on me, if the journey is long, Together we’ll hum a quiet song.
Sing of the Lady of the Night Who treads on sacred, silvered ground, Sways daintily to silent sound, Adorns the sky with silver light, And lingers with the Shades. She is the Goddess of the Dawn, Twinkle of kindness in his eye, The beauty of the midnight sky, Sister to those who dance and mourn, Her love a light that never fades. She is the Mother of us all. Stand still beneath Her watchful gaze; Her light sings of unuttered praise. Sweet Love before the tragic fall— Her endless mercy all pervades. And we emerge from 'neath her spell, As golden light spills 'cross the land, Across the page, over the hand That writes these words, this tale to tell: Her strength endures, and fear abates. The warmth, the joy, the leaping heart That follows as the new day breaks, As softly, hope once more awakes. Despair and doubt now fall apart; There is healing in the Shades.
