It watched as Sir Aerek, proud,
Clung to a floating corpse,
With mortal wound and ego bound,
Still fighting with remorse.

Aerek gasped with failing breath,
In the bog's embrace he lay,
His mouth agape, a fish in death,
"I, I, I," he'd say.

The monster clawed at Creation's veil,
Alien voice then spoke,
"Weaker knights have given insults,
More potent than your croak."

Aerek cried, "Your claws so long,
But you cannot be real!"
The monster laughed, "Your will is strong,
But here, your fate is sealed."

"I've seen goats fall with stronger wit,
Than you, dear dying knight,
Your cries of claws and disbelief,
Are said to my delight."

The monster grinned, amused by pride,
That would not yield to fate,
And whispered from the depths inside,
"I'll show you why you wait."

Aerek pleaded, "Grant me peace,
Leave this world behind,"
The monster's voice, a dark release,
"Enlightenment, you'll find."

With wraith-like grace, the beast drew near,
Its breath upon his neck,
"You've always acted with a fear,
Of losing your own check."

"You honour laws you write yourself,
A judge of empty cause,
A boaster seeking worldly wealth,
In accolades and applause."

"You sit as arbiter of knights,
Deciding wrong from right,
But your honour's just a guise,
To hide your inner fright."

The talons rent the air and space,
An alien voice did ring,
From depths unknown, the eerie grace,
Of chaos' darkened king.

"Mercy you seek, yet mercy's gain,
Is not within my lore,
Enlightenment, a gift of pain,
Is what I have in store."

It played with him, a cruel delight,
A cat with mouse in grasp,
"You act with honour in plain sight,
For others' praise, you clasp."

"Your laws are meaningless and vain,
Your judgment self-imposed,
No audience for your disdain,
Just lies that you have posed."

The monster's claws, they graced his brow,
A blackened talon dipped,
In ichor that would soon endow,
Aerek's mind, now gripped.

Unconscious, Aerek drifted then,
To a sea of endless black,
He woke upon a cold, dark stone,
With horrors at his back.

He stood upon the Precipice,
Of Void and endless night,
And saw the end of all he knew,
As Creation faced its plight.

The monster's clawed hand, fatherly,
Did rest upon his shoulder,
"Behold," it said, "the fate you'll see,
As all grows ever colder."

"The Knight's Guild fades, its honour lost,
In Void, all legacies fall,
Your boasts and pomp are meaningless,
For nothing stands at all."

"Each act of yours, a cry for eyes,
To see and validate,
Yet all the world knows of your lies,
Your grandeur, all but fake."

"On great men's shoulders you now stand,
Their works, you claim your own,
Your chains enslave with iron hand,
Their freedom overthrown."

For three long days, he saw the truth,
Of vanity and pride,
His life of self-righteous ruse,
His emptiness inside.

"The Church you bowed before for praise,
The West for grand display,
All acts for others' shallow gaze,
In desperate, vain array."

It showed him scenes of days gone by,
In Lumeni's bright halls,
Where Aerek knelt with eager sigh,
To heed the holy calls.

It showed him on the Western shore,
In Necromancy's quest,
Each act a plea for more and more,
Attention at its best.

Aerek, through blood and tears, did cry,
"It matters not, I swear,
For people saw me, that's my prize,
You've never left your lair."

The monster's smile was cruel and wide,
"Your fans, they pale to mine,
Your actions, jewels for other's eyes,
My crown, a simple sign."

"You seek to place upon your brow,
A crown of jeweled delight,
For every deed, a bauble now,
To shine in public sight."

"My crown, unadorned and plain,
No need for mortal gaze,
My legacies, not for their gain,
But for His endless ways."

The monster then removed its crown,
Of blackened iron bare,
And in its simple, stark renown,
A truth beyond compare.

The monster placed the crown upon,
The knight's bowed, trembling head,
Aerek's eyes turned black as night,
His heart filled with dread.

Knowledge surged within his mind,
Of all the monster's feats,
He saw the fear and chaos wrought,
In endless, darkened streets.

Throughout the ages, marks revealed,
On leaders, brothers turned,
A plague upon Creation's soul,
The beast's dark touch discerned.

The knight, he saw, his mind afire,
The mark on all who strayed,
The beast's influence, far and wide,
In every dark crusade.

"Your legacy," the monster hissed,
"Is written by your hand,
While mine, it lives in every heart,
In every cursed land."

"When calamity strikes the world,
All eyes turn to my bog,
My name invoked with fear and dread,
For I'm the ancient fog."

It showed him battles, wars, and strife,
Where men turned against kin,
The mark upon their brows, a life,
Of darkness, fear, and sin.

He wept in bitter, endless streams,
His tears a river wide,
Despairing at his shattered dreams,
He saw the truth denied.

As tears did flow, his gaze did shift,
To sword he held in hand,
And there upon the blade's cold hilt,
The beast's mark did expand.

He stared in horror, heart in throat,
The mark of Chaos clear,
His grip did falter, then he choked,
Consumed by mortal fear.

With trembling hands, he dropped the blade,
And scrambled to his feet,
The horror of the truth displayed,
His fate now sealed, complete.

Invisible strings, they wrapped around,
From wrist to claw they tied,
The monster's grip had steered his fate,
A puppet bound, he cried.

The strings had always been there, yet,
He'd never seen them clear,
The monster's grasp, a fate beget,
In shadows ever near.

Aerek's tears began to flow anew,
His life a hollow lie,
A whispering madness overtook him,
As sorrow's depths drew nigh.

"No, no! I cannot accept it!
It just cannot be true!
I beg of you to make it stop!"
But deep inside he knew.

He woke beside the bog once more,
His wounds had been healed clean,
But feeling drained, his spirit sore,
As if caught in a dream.

He gasped, recalling his own words,
Of art in brevity,
The voice then sighed, "You asked for one,
I gave ten brevities."

"For I don't grant the pleading soul,
Exactly what it asks,
But what it needs to understand,
The truth behind their masks."

"Parade before the eyes of men,
I've more for you to do,
But know this mercy's end will come,
It's LastGoodbye for you."

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Chronos, in the year 952 AF.