The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates
Jeramiah stepped forward and sang softly, voice low and melodic:
“Born of storm and woven flame,
A girl shall rise with death of name.
Magic’s child, both wild and free,
Bound by blood and prophecy.
When wielders fall and kingdoms burn,
When tides revolt and fates upturn,
One heart of power, old and true,
Will wake to choose what must ensue.
She shall not stand nor rise alone,
But walk with five who’ve strength of bone.
Beasts of claw and sky and flame,
Each must rise and shed their shame.
Together forged in soul and fight,
They hold the key to wrong and right.
If they unite, the world shall heal—
If not, all falls to ash and steel.
The one of many, one of all,
Shall break the curse or damn
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