The Lay of Kemoc and the Night Roses
Sung by Scylla
"Hail! I'll sing thee a tale of the brave Kemoc, a warrior newly-made some hundred years past, and how he forsook Vale and Ring for one who first claimed his heart...and in so doing influenced the lives of many to come.
"Kemoc had only just returned from initiation. A fine warrior-so said all who knew the night-blue stallion. The pride of the herd-so said Prince Kern and King Arden as they studied the white-maned half-grown. Bested only by the prince in sparring, well-spoken with wisdom and honesty, and tempered with Lore and Law, Kemoc represented everything a half-grown should.
"As could be expected, Kemoc drew a healthy group of admirers. Each summer he held back from the mating dance, as even the most flirtatious, beautiful, and devoted fillies gained nary a glance from him. The herd began to whisper that perhaps Kemoc would never mate. Some even accused him of holding too high an opinion of himself to ever accept a 'mere imperfect mortal.'
"Kemoc only shook his head sadly at such talk. He still remained unpaired, even as his tenth summer came and declared him full-grown. During the unmated band's stay by the Sea, a frustrated mare-constantly thrown off with a wall of courteous refusals-dubbed him 'Shadow Lover.' The name stuck, and poor Kemoc, tired of the rumors and the disgrace, escaped into the trees that ran along the cliffs overlooking the Summer Sea.
Sung by Scylla
"Hail! I'll sing thee a tale of the brave Kemoc, a warrior newly-made some hundred years past, and how he forsook Vale and Ring for one who first claimed his heart...and in so doing influenced the lives of many to come.
"Kemoc had only just returned from initiation. A fine warrior-so said all who knew the night-blue stallion. The pride of the herd-so said Prince Kern and King Arden as they studied the white-maned half-grown. Bested only by the prince in sparring, well-spoken with wisdom and honesty, and tempered with Lore and Law, Kemoc represented everything a half-grown should.
"As could be expected, Kemoc drew a healthy group of admirers. Each summer he held back from the mating dance, as even the most flirtatious, beautiful, and devoted fillies gained nary a glance from him. The herd began to whisper that perhaps Kemoc would never mate. Some even accused him of holding too high an opinion of himself to ever accept a 'mere imperfect mortal.'
"Kemoc only shook his head sadly at such talk. He still remained unpaired, even as his tenth summer came and declared him full-grown. During the unmated band's stay by the Sea, a frustrated mare-constantly thrown off with a wall of courteous refusals-dubbed him 'Shadow Lover.' The name stuck, and poor Kemoc, tired of the rumors and the disgrace, escaped into the trees that ran along the cliffs overlooking the Summer Sea.