Chapter Text
Gate 0
Power Nap Poems
'Twas the night after entry, when all through the Inciphisphere
Not a creature was stirring, not an imp was near;
The sprites were guarding their loved ones with care,
In case that an enemy soon would be there;
The players were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of Prospit and Derse danced in their heads;
The Sylph in her bonnet, and Bard in his cap,
Had just settled their eyes for a well deserved nap,
When the Seer was comfortably sleeping sound,
She sprang from the bed, never touching the ground.
Away through window she flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new Skaian day,
Gave a luster to the city of Derse on display,
When to the Dersite’s wondering eyes did appear,
But a Knight in the air, his movements astir,
With the Page trailing close behind,
The two dressed in violet pajamas in kind.
More rapid than eagles the Thief on Prospit flew,
And he whistled, and chuckled during his dreaming debut:
"Yipee! Pchoooooooo! Away I can fly!
I’m such a cool and likable and handsome guy!
To the top of my tower! To the top of yours too!
There isn’t anything that I can’t do!"
The Witch gazed longingly while lounging atop her sill,
When they asked her to fly, her response was nill;
So up to the housetop the Seer she drew
With the pot full of tea, and Miss Trust too—
And then, in a twinkling, the three settled for tea
They giggled and chortled and smiled with glee.
As the Bard lay in his bed, and was turning around,
Down on Derse there was a racket abound.
The Sylph in gold silk, from her head to her toe,
And her gown did sparkle in Skaia’s pure glow;
She swept o’er the city like a migratory goose,
The prospitians below gazed and balked the elusive chanteuse.
But on Derse the Queen clenched her fists, all six!
Her mind was full of envy and bloody politics!
Her tentacled mouth was drawn down in a scowl,
And she wished them misfortune most outrageous and foul;
With a wave of her ringed hand, she summoned her Minister,
And told him to create a plan so very dastardly and sinister;
He had a long face and he never did smile
Save for when he could be mean, evil, and vile.
And the dreamers were none the wiser of what they’d say,
To kill them one by one in the dreaming bed where they lay;
Another wave of her hand and the Minister begone
But overhearing the fiasco was a sly little pawn;
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And wanted to leave; but turned with a jerk,
The guards drew their swords and lay them on her throat,
And dragged her to jail, nothing more than a cote;
But one player still slept in the core of Derse’s moon,
The Mage’s waking body tossed and turned like a loon.
But then he’d exclaim, in the dead of the night—
“Sweet Dreams to all, and to all Sleep Tight!”