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But the eyes of Wanderer
never the lone eyes watching
as these things came to pass,
in the eyes of the daughter
the leopard's eye reflected
upon reflection, until
it mirrors itself into forever
like the thoughts of a long hall
never the lone eyes watching,
and the eyes of Goldmoon
for the Chieftain looked on
at the dance of the eyes and whispers,
looked on from the place of judgment
deciding this could not be,
and he set for River-wind
three tasks unapproachable, saying
PAY COURT TO MY DAUGHTER ONLY
WHEN YOU CAN RETURN TO MY HEARTHSIDE
BEARING THE MOON IN YOUR HANDS,
THE STARS ON A DYING BLANKET,
AND WHEN YOU CAN COME FROM THE EAST,
BEARING THE CRYSTAL STAFF,
THE ARM OF THE GODS IN FORGOTTEN COUNTRY,
THE SOURCE OF THE MAGICS.
And Wanderer hearing this
heard the NO and again the NO
at the heart of the words,
and knew that the magic
was fractured light,
the light at the heart of a crystal,
bending and bending upon itself,
forever becoming nothing.
Knew that the magic was fractured light
when Riverwind spread his cloak on the dew,
when the waters gathered, spangling stars,
and the hunter cupped water
alight in the palms of his hands,
and returned to the Chieftain, bearing
the moon in his hands, the stars
trapped on a dying blanket.
And the third task then
was the terrible one,
for the others were easy, were riddles
set before children
set before huntsmen
set before those
whom the Chieftain could never remember,
and the heart and the mind
of Wanderer bent like the light
of the one true crystal, turning
to words and to whispers,
to the counsel that Riverwind heard
that night at the brink of the journey,
and traveling eastward
under the reeling moons
toward the source of the light
in the heart of the Staff,
again that night was his naming night
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