Be Not

by Locke Schyler

One-shot. A poetic tribute to a line that revived my faith in Christopher Paolini. May he live up to his own dreams, may he grow, learn, and be humble in his amazing gift... And, above all, to Paolini himself, "Se onr sverdar sitja hvass," and good luck.

Be Not

Do you still hear him?

Do you hear the mocking voice,

The offer tendered,

Remembered, granting a choice?

Do you hear the demand

For a fight of blood?

The flood of irresistible command?

You know the Word,

But do you dream

Of a soft scream, other things you heard?

Heard…Do you still hear him?

Does your last attack

The emotive spell,

And enforced hell at night come back?

What of his stare

When it poured in,

His sin and new ability to care…?

And the broken duel?

The blow on blow,

A show, ringing just a tinge on cruel?

You struck his mind

With a single thing:

A reviving of the past he'd left behind.

You told him to know,

To feel, to see

The destiny of what he did sow.

Do you still hear…?

I do.

I was there with you when he said…

When he said…"Waíse néiat!"

"Be not."

What a beautiful, terrible way

To kill a king.