thescotchirishviking Michael Taylor

PoeticStory Fantasy Mythology inspired by L.O.T.R., The Hobbit, Skyrim and Iron Maiden. Book 3 In the SpellBorn Trilogy.


Fantasy Dark Fantasy All public. © Michael W. Taylor ©

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The Reawakening of Evil

Pt. 1.


The Continuation of Magic, Order,

Chaos and Life.


Greetings, dear reader.

The time has come at last.

The continuation of a saga,

To recall what has past.

The story of good and evil,

and the Hero's life and fame.

Leaving words of poetry,

To help remember names.

Now the story shifts from

the recount of the Bard.

The last part of this Trilogy,

Will reveal the missing card.


Let me re-introduce you to

the son of Dòryu Vínn.

This is his account, and

where this story begins.


I was just a boy when I first

heard the Dragon tale.

Listening to traveler's stories,

at the Longhouse, pouring Ale.

My life was simple, helping

mother with the daily chores.

Evening's spent in wondering,

From tales of Dragon Wars.

Most the time was spent with

just my mother, Shãrique and I.

Once in a while an exotic trader,

would happen to pass by.


This is how I learned of all the

great things that were done.

Trying to come to grasp with

the reality of the Chosen One.

Hearing my father's adventures

From the tips of excited tongues.

Sneaking up, just close enough

to inhale their smoke into my lungs.

I loved the air, the land, my kin,

but it could never replace.

The father I barely knew, but

only through a stranger's face.


The untapped power coursing

through my veins, Stirs in me.

Unbridled, in it's purest form,

My Dragon blood's awakening.

A young imagination stokes

the flames that burn within.

Inspired by the stories that

I've heard from local kin.

With wooden sword, I practice

In the Plains of Aidüeli.

The Dragon Council waiting,

And a Giant watching me.

I duck and dart... parry, and

block, my imagination's foe.

My quiver's full of magic arrows,

I shoot with my enchanted bow.

'Cause in my mind, I'm the Hero.

The Champion of Tòr Taliciél.

I know that some day, pretend

battles, might just be for real.


My body's getting thicker.

My arms are strong, I walk

with pride.

My reflexes, getting quicker.

It won't be long, 'till I fight

by His side.


To Be Continued...


Pt. 2 - A Giant Friend


As a younger person living

far from the city population.

There's not much companion-

ship, not much celebration.

The nearest lad the same age

as me, lives in another town.

Just a little East of here, the

village that was burned down.

The story goes, there lived a Hero

that fought with a lion's heart.

No one ever seen him again,

After Mt. Dubhán had fallen apart.


My father brought a special

friend, like nothing ever seen.

He gained his trust, and settled

him onto the Plains of Aidüeli.

He stays out of sight, but he

is the watcher of the Plains.

The Gaurdian of my humble

village. The dancer in the rain.

I see him watching with curious

eyes, but the warning is quite clear.

My father said that because of his

size, he is a danger to all that go near.


A certain warm, but breezy day,

As I was playing in the fields.

Two rough looking men rode up,

and asked where to get a meal.

As one dismounted, and grabbed

my shoulder, as if to assault me.

The Giant came crashing through

the bushes, storming from the trees.

The man that grabbed me, dropped

his jaw, The other man just froze.

The Giant snatched him off his horse,

shook him right out of his clothes!

The once aggressive man had

started crying like a little baby.

When he realized the Giant was my

friend to protect and save me.

I can't even tell you just how funny

it was, seeing such a sight.

Two grown naked, screaming men,

had lost their urine in that fight.

I swear I heard the Giant chuckle,

amusement in his laughing eyes.

What I saw, was just a man,

Misunderstood because of his size.


Raiders and Criminals Beware!

There's scrutinizing eyes on you.

Come to Aidüeli, If you dare,

You'll leave in terror too.


To Be Continued...


Pt. 3 - A Glimpse Into The Past


I feel that I should catch you

up to the story's gap in time.

I know you must have questions,

still brewing in your mind.

Understand, I'm still a lad, that's

coming into his own age.

I'm not a man, but not half bad,

at recalling the words of the sage.

The mysterious man that comes

around to talk with Dòryu Vínn.

I sit and listen to countless tales,

and then my father leaves again.


It was the end of darkness, and

the imprisonment of Drãgùeine.

Just after the Sorcerer's banish-

ment, Life became serene.

After almost two centuries past,

From the time of the Hero, Goüri.

This is when the Spell was cast,

That created the SpellBorn story.

Something unforseen by man, but

known by the Council's Will.

It was they that changed the course

of the Sorcerer's spell of evil.


Xyësis had discovered sacred

words that bend reality.

This is how he came and went,

Transferring his energy.

Changing molecular structure,

in mere ticks of endless time.

Reapearing in accordance to

omnipresent laws that bind.

Through repetitive trial and error,

He was able to break free.

The shackles of this strange

dimension. Were not bound by Qi.

Stealing particles of light and

draining them of their power.

He finally got the equation right,

Reappeared at night, about the

Midnight hour.


It was he that caused the earth

to quake, releasing Drãgùeine.

T'was he that caused the mountain

to shake, to set the Dragon free.

It was the corruption of the spell

that made the earth revolt.

Bringing to the surface, the frozen

heart still in it's vault.

The weakness in the magic shell,

caused it's essences to leak.

The darkened evil filled the ground,

As the Sorcerer began to speak.

An unknown word from a forbidden

spell, was cast upon the ground.

Combining earth and Dragon blood,

and this is where my dad was found.


The life that was created.

Intended for sacrifice.

The death that was evaded.

When the Seer enacted the

Council's advise.


To Be Continued...


Pt. 4 - A Family Heirloom


As it were, The vanquishing of

evil played it's vital part.

Without the Council's intervention,

All of creation would come apart.

When my father thrust his sword

into the chest of Drãgùeine.

This restored the balance of the

constant confliction of energy.

The power of righteous judgement

that was summoned to one place.

Left the Sorcerer drained as the

darkened magic was displaced.


Had the Sorcerer stayed amongst

the SpellBorn's sacred shout.

Combined with the power of the

sword, t'would have drove the evil out.

As his HellHounds met their end,

the Sorcerer was forced to flee.

Weakened, with his power spent.

He cowers at Mt. Pérsèthni.

With no dark souls to harvest,

His twisted legs can hardly stand.

The life force that the darkness fed

on. Left an empty shell of a man.


So now we come to this point in

time, years of healing peace.

My family is all together at last,

My mother's preparing a feast.

Every Decennium, We'd celebrate

the life and victory of Dòryu Vínn.

Mariá, Beatùs, and King Magnüs,

will be here along with our local kin.

I'm old enough, the time has

come for me to meet the King.

Instead of a sword for my Rite

of Passage, I was given a ring.

But not just any ring it was,

my mother had bound to me.

My grandfather gave it to her,

before he dissapeared at sea.

This was a family heirloom, with

a precious stone incased in gold.

She never knew quite what it did,

But it was magic, so she'd been told.

The colors of the stone would change,

With every sound, they'd swirl around.

No one could ever tell her,

just what her father had found.


My father's home. I am complete.

Let's celebrate a great defeat.

All good things must end at last.

Resurfacing from my father's past.


To Be Continued...


Pt. 5 - The Reawakening of Evil.


Time can lead to healing and

yet time can suddenly end.

It doesn't stop, itself, but only

takes back what was lent.

Time is the necessary nutrient

for life, without it, all would cease.

It's time that makes the heart

beat, and time that tames the beast.

There are some that hate the

light and plot to destroy time.

We must revisit a decrepit old

Hermit,

So keep up with my rhyme.


Reflecting back on what had

happened when Xyësis had to flee.

The only place that he'd be safe,

The twisted shadow of Mt. Pérsèthni.

There, he'd use his alchemical know-

ledge, salves, potions and scrolls.

To heal his badly depleted body,

It'd take everything he'd ever known.

Years had passed, he could walk

at last, as his muscles filled with life.

No one had asked, as a Decennium

past, if the Sorcerer was still alive.


With uncanny focus, and only

one thing to drive him on.

Vengeance had consumed his

heart, 'till it was almost gone.

The hatred felt for the Dragon

Council, and their righteous ways.

Turned into his twisted plot to

bring on the end of days.

An ancient scroll of detect magic,

would help him find another source.

A well he could tap into, and extract

the essences by magick force.

After years of preparations in

seclusion at this darkened place.

After everything that's happened,

There was no man within his face.

What remained, didn't look like

flesh, but that of a leathery skull.

He knew he had to disguise his

head, or he'd be killed for sure.

With thin black gloves, and a well

crafted mask, he'd find an offering.

Two white doves, a child's blood

in a flask, should cause the

Reawakening.


Innocence is a submissive

Position, watch your children play.

Take your eyes off of them

just for a second, and they could

be snatched away.


To Be Continued...


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