Shadow and Flame: The Last Battle of Leif Shadow-Sword
In Terratarn they took their stand,
Two armies fought across the strand
A demon came to to claim their land,
They fought to reach the morning
Leif danced through the brawling horde,
And stood to face the demon lord
Atop a hill, he raised his sword
And shouted out a warning,
“Let the devil come to me!
A fiend of fire he may be,
But ere this night is done, I’ll see
Him laid down low and writhing!”
The creature roared, and spread its wings
But Leif laughed, and began to sing
He made his spinning blade to ring
And sent it darkly driving.
They met, and fire sparked with shade,
Fearsome claws with ebon blade
They flew– advance, assault, evade
A storm of frenzied fighting
Up and through, and quickly glancing,
All the hordes about entrancing,
Blades of flame and darkness dancing
Each one deadly biting!
Then a cry sent soldiers turning,
Soaring spirits fell to churning
Saw a razored claw come burning,
And their hero reeling
As Leif was bowed upon the field,
His warriors all rushed to shield
The demon flared, and thundered, “Yield.”
And grinned to see him kneeling
Leif’s spirit seared and charred within,
It curled like smoke up from his skin
But still he met the monster’s grin
And laughing, rose to meet it
His limbs weighed down like molten stone,
His blood boiled about his bone,
But Leif would not be overthrown
While still he could defeat it
So forth he flew, and met its fire,
Drove blade through flesh with black desire
Made the creature his own pyre,
He could not leave it living!
For those who fought with him so brave
He would not leave for demon slaves,
So, with his final breath, he gave
All he had left worth giving.
Those looking on heard only laughter
That echoed with them ever after
Piercing through what seemed disaster
As Leif and fiend fell spinning
And as dawn came, the warring masses
All ceased in their fervent clashes,
Saw two bodies midst the ashes
One twisted grim, one grinning
The demon army ran, retreating
All their fearsome boldness fleeting
And Terratarn pursued them, meeting
Victory with raging
For though their land stayed free and strong,
They mourned their friend, lost to the throng.
So, weaving him into their songs,
Leif lived on, never aging.
– s. Clark
Shigé Clark Writing 