What choice have we, oh poor common men,
to the mines or lines, on us our lords depend,
what choice have the, oh daughters of whores,
a woman left to one means, to reap her reward,
oh what choice have we, but to stand proud and tall,– The Turning of Lords, 23 E.R.
and bring an old embittered guard, to their final fall,
oh what choice have we, but to begin it all again,
to be the mighty, so conscript others, to our ends.
The Chosen and Choice
Dahlia had fallen behind, and Katrisha slowed to walk beside her.
“I’d been meaning to ask, but it kept slipping my mind. Her name is Rayna?”
“It’s how my mother would say rain, when the first came in wet months,” Dahlia offered. “A blessing, that comes to the dry land. Your brother was not pleased, I could tell, but did not speak his mind. He was not wrong, that I thought too of him. A reason it felt right, amongst others.”
“I’d thought perhaps you had taken it from the palentian Raegina, related to the word reign. For, she is like a lord. Still sounds a bit alike, rain and reign. Perhaps the wet months are the reign of rain.”
Dahlia didn’t quite laugh. A nervous little huff, but looked sadder.
“Are you alright?” Katrisha pressed.Continue reading “Chapter VI:18”