Firestorm

by CrystalXanadu

I haven't seen many Lavan Firestorm stories. This, though it's a song and not a story, is hopefully what was going through Lavan's mind during his last battle.

Firestorm

by Bluestar1

Author's Note: I haven't seen many Lavan Firestorm stories. This, though it's a song and not a story, is hopefully what was going through Lavan's mind during his last battle.

Disclaimer: I do not own Valdemar, the world of Velgarth,or any of the characters therein. Nor an I making any profit from this.The lyrics are my own, but the tune is unashamedly stolen from Mercedes Lackey's 'Philosophy'.

Tune: Philosophy (Heralds, Harpers and Havoc)

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Oh, how I hate these demon-callers who would take my land,
But little do they know the Gift that answers to my hand,
The fire burning brightly that will hold this army back,
I will not stay my anger 'gainst the Karsites clad in black.

For it's my Gift that calls the fire,
And burns dry wood to ash
And it's my Gift that turns a spark
Into a firey lash,
Yes, it's my Gift that saves the day
In this valley of pines
And I will call the Firestorm
To break your battle lines!

Your man destroyed my mentor's sight, because I did not act,
I vowed to ne'er again delay, I made a solemn pact,
That if there was some need that Valdemar could have of me,
Then all the aid my Gift provides would then be given free.

For it's my Gift that calls the fire,
And burns dry wood to ash
And it's my Gift that turns a spark
Into a firey lash,
Yes, it's my Gift that saves the day
In this valley of pines
And I will call the Firestorm
To break your battle lines!

You fed your own to fires, the Dark Servants thus to call,
So watch you well, O Karsite priest, for you will swiftly fall
I hold the wall of fire between you and Valdemar,
Try not to pass this Herald, fool, for here the way is barred.

For it's my Gift that calls the fire,
And burns dry wood to ash
And it's my Gift that turns a spark
Into a firey lash,
Yes, it's my Gift that saves the day
In this valley of pines
And I will call the Firestorm
To break your battle lines!

You slew my dearest love, my own Companion brave and true,
But therein lies your last mistake, you knew not what I'd do,
The Firestorm that I have called screams from both land and sky,
Before I join her where she's gone . . . I swear you all will die!

For it's my Gift that called the fire,
And burned dry wood to ash
And it's my Gift that turned a spark
Into a firey lash,
Yes, it's my Gift that saved the day
But could not save her life,
And I have called the Firestorm
To end your greed and strife!