With wings and body free and weightless as a Smoke Gyre,
Tsumetai fought against the Icewarden to protect the isles.
Side by side with the ancient Banescales
given Flamecaller's blessing,
he fell.



Eyes wide with final terror;
frozen in time,
weathered by blizzards and left alone to crack and shatter
without the warmth of mother;
his soul was encased,
he could not escape,
the loneliness would last forever.
One day he woke
to the sound of singing
Sweet Mother's
happy birthday
to her sons and daughters.
The Banescales roamed freely again,
weariness was lifted,
the terror washed away from his eyes,
the ice would not leave,
but neither would he.