The Star and the Forest

Of one man two are born and raised
Yet their lines split over the days
One builds an arcane realm deep inside
The other looks not within, but to nature’s life
The first’s wily hands crafted a new self image
While the second grew the strength of the flesh
The two split physically when they were well apart
One in the forests, and one seeking the stars
One befriended beastfolk, fairies and elves
While the other felt no loneliness in the company of himself.
One gave up on the stars for which he reached
While the other stayed solid in his fraternity
One bonded by love into the tribe of those not human
Yet still a people they are
While the other became man yet light
An image of a star
Then again they met,
for no reason but that they were brothers
And each stood aghast
At the sight of the other
The woodsman concealed horror under clenched fingertips
While the star man spare naught in the derision from his lips
As it had been before, it quickly was again
That the two were split apart
An inhuman fiend, the star man called the woodsman
While the woodsman spoke of the star man’s icy heart
The star man laughed, while the woodsman wept
The star man took it as a highest compliment
Overjoyed that cold like the void had crept
Upon his starry heart that mocked the woodsman’s sentiments
For a longer time still, there was a cleft between the two brothers
As they achieved the peak of man’s achievements, ignoring the other
But it was the star man, toiling in the sky
Who could not bear not to recall the other in his mind
And his heart was filled with the mirth of contempt
An overflowing, bubbling font of amusement
And no other way could ever hope to vent
but to return to the object of his sympathetic embarrassment
And so from his home, an unseen base
In orbit, just below the bounds of space
He glided down like an eagle without wings
To see his brother as the forest’s king
To his mirth, at his side, the wolf queen lied
The star laughed again that his brother had left mankind
For his brother himself was started to turn
Still seeming human, yet in him the wild burned
Ceasing slowly to be human, approaching a thing not unlike Pan
While his brother descended to earth, a stellar image of Man
A challenge was made, the brothers fought
And though the woodsman strove, it was for naught
But when he collapsed, his brother did not put him down
Instead the star man turned to woman to whom he was bound
Laughing in ecstatic mockery, the star man flayed the inhuman
Then he turned to his brother and said he did it for him
“Believe me,” he said in mock conciliation,
“I’ve eyes like an old witch.”
As his brother sobbed in shock, he giggled
“And I could tell she was a bitch!”
Then he departed, but not all the way back
For he planned on returning not long after
To savor his murder’s aftermath
To face the consequences with laughter
But his brother held his wife corpse and sobbed in her skin
And he could feel her ghost throbbing within
He cut open the carcass with the oaken sword of druid-knights
And he bound it to her skin, on her murder’s bloody night
And not through what he did, but what was done to him
He pulled out a great darkness and became a knight of the skin
Reunited, the spouses were, in the most abhorrent of ways,
and so lovers confronted the magician on his returning day
And they took one last bid to put out that star for all time
He responded with moon waves and solar flares, and hail of minute stars around
Meteoroids and the blizzards almost like the void, and bolts from neon nebula rainclouds
But the woodsman was strong,
and so they fought long,
and in the end
one could almost pretend
That soon the star would be gone
But he came up with a cheat, an unforeseen betrayal
He took life from the earth itself, draining the forest pale
And with one final spell, a last laugh, a cap to the bitter end
He blasted apart the twin self that could’ve been his friend
But for killing a child of Gaia herself, the star was thoroughly hated
And only by breaching to another universe entirely was reprisal evaded
and so the star man almost alighted, on a world where magic was suppressed
For though his power was too strong to fade from this, he needed first to give a test
He let his light out in the sky, and wondered if any could distinguish him
And he sang to the unseen currents of sparks, for any who were listening
And he divined the minds of those who saw, and bequeathed on them a gift
For them, in the gravity of the being, there would be a rift
So that they too could attain beauty and power, and even so they could fall
For it would be better to rise and die than not to rise at all
And he knew that they would cheer for this, and knew that they would enjoy life
And he knew that in them he would be recreated, a star begetting strife
But he cared not for their woes,
But for the potential they showed
And he learned to speak as they spoke, and to one of them, he would say,
“Let the children use it
Let the children lose it
Let all the children boogey”

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