As the wind runs through the glade, Mell's sweet smell ran through a jealous nose.
Skret — a wicked lord of Orr's misfortune — wished nothing more than to crush.
Exhaustion, disappointment, jealousy — a plague of happiness in his eyes.
Aderfod's rituals of fruit and of love, the wickedest of Mell's inventions to the heartless King.
His mischievous road led to a Knight of Honor and glory.
"Whence lies the abode of a noble man?" a misfortunate finch calls.
Shining, "The land past the hill, in a humble home of Laefundloum shall I lay my head."
"Take a bride and lay your head upon bosom! Such rewards, you deserve!"
"I shall, young finch. For your aid, some feed" — the Knight tossed seed to Skret.
Skret went ahead of the Knight and planted seeds of sorrow.
A maiden, betrothed to another now could not recall or see her beloved.
Seeing such distress, the Knight comforted her and took her as his own.
But as much as he plague her, Skret could not ill her faster than the Knight could heal her.
While the maiden lay with child, the winds grew wicked and bellowed.
The eternal transporter of soul, Gorrn both took and gave life that night.
The Knight torn by conflict, blamed not the god of these acts.
A mischievous owl arrived at the door and stared into the house.
"Who? Do your eyes feast upon the tragedy of a lonely child?"
The bird spoke naught, and pointed to the townsfolk outside.
"What of the town? Those not here could do none to aid!"
A pause, a seed, "Those not here would do none to aid."
The Knight became a King and his son, a Lonely Prince.
The castle was now full of birds and servants, obedient and afraid.
While the kingdom grew, the smell of Mell ran through just the same,
and with it, Skret's song played again to each new Knight.