LinAeve

LinAeve

In the Heart of Ilana
Where the trees grew tall,
An elven folk named Namir
Shaped the earth to sing such songs
That only they could hear.
They wandered in the dappled light
And danced as shadows swayed.
They feasted on their mirth and pride,
Struck by what they had made.

Ilana was immortal now
Through some might not their own.
A seed of power planted deep
Had long ago been sown.
So through their strains the Namir kin
Had helped this seed to bud.
It grew into a mighty tree
Up from the loam and mud.
They ate the fruit upon the tree
When it had ripened gold.
Their bodies glowed with mystic light,
They ceased rom growing old.
So with a blessing from the earth
These once perishing folk
Were amaranthine evermore,
They shed their mortal cloak.
Imperfections faded fast
While all now longed to see
How resplendent and alluring
immortality could be.

Not long after elves were touched
All creatures small and large
Begged Namir a taste of fruit,
For it was in their charge.
The council of the Namir Host
Inside Ilana's Arm
Worked dusk till dawn to find a cure
To keep them safe from harm.
They did not wish to share their prize,
So hard had it been won,
That they post a gaurd around the tree,
Safe from all but sun.

The Namir sang around the tree
And rested in its limbs.
It called out in an earthy voice,
They bowed to all its whims.
The tree was not a selfish thing,
It only asked its need,
So the Namir came to love the tree
And its lack of worldly greed.
The one small thing the tree did want
Had nought to do with fame.
It only wished a simple gift,
It wished to have a name.
The Namir Host gathered again,
Thought witless every night,
And came up with an ancient name
That praised the tree's great might.
"Dear Tree of Song," A sovereign called,
"Of root and limb and leaves.
"We have a name, though it's not much.
"Say you to LinAeve?"
Her bows did shake and branches touched,
She bent her trunk with ease.
LinAeve did love her name
And told them through a breeze.

Long years went by and LinAeve
Loved her people so
That she asked they find a safer place
Where only they could go.
The elf folk understood her pangs
For countless times they spied
How creatures wanted LinAeve
Before they aged and died.
The Fair One's wanted not but good
For she made them not fade.
They used what magic touch they had
To find another glade.

Four ages past and after that
The Namir lived in rest.
They hid away from all the world...
Did not expect a test.
A clan of cunning mortals hid
Among the mist and vines.
They saw a tree so wonderful
Amidst the scented pines.
A mem'ry sparked in one's old soul,
He thought of decades past.
Then with a chill of shock and hate
Recalled the time at last.