3You stand upon the plane of fear
Preparing for the duel.
You draw your sword and hone its blade
In chancing out the fool.
Your foe steps forth and speaks his name:
"I Hail. I am but Fear."
You charge your courage with your fate:
"I Hail. I am the Seer."
You meet within the burning ring
And both pull back your swords.
They clash with fervor, blindly burnt,
Upon you careful lords.
Your swords make sparks in burning air,
But each blow falls aside.
You cannot make a clean contact
To conquer all the tide.
At once, you strike him unannounced
And knock away his yield.
You pin him to the ground in hate,
Preparing for fate sealed.
But suddenly you hear a voice
And cannot run him through.
The voice speaks of damned consequence
Should not you pity, too.
You sheathe your sword and tell the sprite
So quickly to be gone.
He stands upon his feet and bows
And fades out with the dawn.
Take forth your lessons as you will;
He will return again.
Your fate was sealed by you, the Seer.
Your courage did him in.