Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers,Maiden most perfect, lady of light, With a noise of winds and many rivers, With a clamour of waters, and with might; Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, Over the splendour and speed of thy feet; For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers, Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. //
She reigns upon her dusky throne, ‘mid shades of heroes dread to see; Among the dead she breathes alone, Persephone—Persephone! Or seated on the Elysian hill she dreams of earthly daylight still, and murmurs of the daffodil. //
Restless, pacing panther-like, I prowl the palace. Preparing for the gods to punish me, As is my fate. A fate I fear not. For I, Clytemnestra, Queen of Mycenae, Daughter of Sparta and of Leda, Have avenged my daughter's death! The blood of Iphigenia, Shed by her father, To assuage the fears and whims Of ignorant, brutal men. Lordly Agamemnon, Once my husband but no more, For I have murdered him. //
As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin's haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp. Mysterious chambers of the air.Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed, As if this phantom, full of pain, Were by the crumbling walls concealed, And at the windows seen again. Until at last, serene and proud. In all the splendor of her light, She walks the terraces of cloud, Supreme as Empress of the Night. //
With hair like lakes that glint beneath the stars, dark as sweet as midnight, or with hair aglow like burnished gold that still retains the fire. Yea, I shall haunt until the dusk of time, the heavy eyelids filled with fleeting dreams. //
Helen of Troy
So the lovely Andromeda sitting on the shore, Her long hair waving seaward in the salty breeze, Has been chained to rock by vengeance heretofore. But the brave Perseus arrives and her he frees, After slaying the sea monster with a vicious gore. Now Andromeda is the goddess of all my dreams, Who reigns supreme in the celestial sphere. Her beauty is yet unique in the heavenly schemes, And can cause clouds and tempest to disappear. //
Who is that girl playing in the garden- So carefree, so young, so fair? Or is she older, but with An unaging zeal or fire? I will have her A Persephone, a Helen A Medusa- Cleopatra, Pandora to my soul, ...My little fatal heel //
So you have swept me back, I who could have walked with the live souls above the earth,I who could have slept among the live flowers at last; so for your arrogance and your ruthlessness I am swept back where dead lichens drip dead cinders upon moss of ash; so for your arrogance I am broken at last, I who had lived unconscious, who was almost forgot; if you had let me wait I had grown from listlessness into peace, if you had let me rest with the dead, I had forgot you and the past. //
In the pathway of the sun, In the footsteps of the breeze, Where the world and sky are one, He shall ride the silver seas, He shall cut the glittering wave. I shall sit at home, and rock. Rise, to heed a neighbor's knock; Brew my tea, and snip my thread; Bleach the linen for my bed. They will call him brave. //
Her skin is pale, A wash of gentle light;Her hair silver,Glittering with starlight, The girl born of moon and star. Her eyes piercing blue, As the blanket of sky, Her face upturned, All the relaxed beauty of night, The girl shimmering with light and dust. The moonlight drapes over her Clothing her in shimmering silver light, She dances with glittering grace, As the the dust of stars trails behind, The moonlight girl born for night //
Remembering Greece, I imagine you there now; naked, skilled in spells. Your toes in the sand, your bright green eyes radiant; island conqueress. //
O latest born and loveliest vision far Of all Olympus' faded hierarchy. Fairer than Phoebe's sapphire-region'd star, Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky; Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none, Nor altar heap'd with flowers; Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan Upon the midnight hours; No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet; From chain-swung censer teeming; No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. //
As your hand connected with her cheek, Margarethe’s head snapped back with the force of your blow. The blonde girl staggered a few steps back and instantaneously her hand reached up to hear stinging as well as reddened cheek.
Fuming in nothing but pure anger that swelled through your veins, you raise a finger to her face as the young maiden jerked backward. Her light blue orbs held nothing but fear and astonishment.
“This is simply a warning, sunshine. I swear to you that next time it won’t be a slap.” You threatened her, your voice lowering meaningfully, only for Margarethe to hear.
“I dare you to utter another word about Ivar and my watchdogs will have a new chewing toy.”
Roman eyed the location marker set through his HUD by Echo, a bounty calling for the assassination of a group of splicers that had been running amuck on the area. It was easy money and something he’d go for on the slower days when the blackmarket wasn’t offering real bounties. At least the Vanguard often had work, albeit at a smaller pay.
His sparrow carried him through the snowy lands quickly and quietly, feeling almost alone until he noticed a friendly blip on the edge of his radar. “For fuck’s…hey, guardian, back off, yeah? Professional at work, go home.”
The legends about the Long Night in Yi Ti explain that a descendant of God-on-Earth known as the Amethyst Empress was usurped and murdered by her own brother, an event known as the Blood Betrayal. This caused the Maiden-Made-of-Light to turn away from humanity in shame, and the Lion of Night came forth in all his wrath to punish mankind’s wickedness, inflicting the cold and darkness of the Long Night. - Yi Ti, The World of Ice and Fire