The Challenger is Chosen

I. By the Hollow Tongue

“By candle’s flicker—come.
Fan each frightened sigh.
Stir the rot where dreams grow numb.
Summon phantoms, shame, and lie.

From cracked regret, from guilt unwept,
Rise, Ravickle, shriek and flail.
Breathe where broken oaths have crept.
Twist the hush into a wail.”…

…

Though I, Seeker am far off—still I bleed
at these words, I fear no song will chain this sprite.
Where light withdraws, death plants its seed.
Where silence weeps, I fall by spite, fall into the night.

By grace the Wisps of light wrap ‘round and lift me.

They comfort and protect me, my mind, from what I see.

II. The Hollow Continues

Cackle in the rafters’ bones.
Claw the pulse of hope in flight.
Split the mind with fevered tones.
Drag the soul through ruined fright.

Stalk the shapes that squirm and scream.
Snuff the hearth, corrupt the flame.
Drown each silver-threaded dream.
Mock the stars. Unmake their name.

Cast your stench across the land.
Bring the blight, the breathless moan.
Taint the hope no heart can stand.
Haunt each mind till night is gone.

So let the hush be torn and turned to flames—
I call Ravickle, and curse all names.

III. Ravickle’s Nightmare Oath

By silence cracked and stillness torn,
By every child who wakes forlorn,
By shivers crawling spine to brow,
I swear my name—I speak it now.

By beds unblessed and prayers unsung,
By screams that fall when day is gone,
By teeth that gnash behind the door,
I rise, unseen, and I restore—

The wails, the whimpers, dread unhealed,
Regret the soul thought safely sealed.
By every vow you never kept,
By words unsaid, and tears you wept,

By guilt that festers in the bone,
By hearts that ache when left alone—
I claim the hush and make it howl.
I twist the calm. I bare the foul.

No flame shall flicker long tonight.
No dream shall pass without a fight.
No spell shall hold my wrath at bay—
I am the dark, no light will stay.

So mark this oath with wax and ash,
With turning wind and window’s crash—
Where peace would dwell, I sow dismay.
Where sleepers lie, I tear the way.

I am Ravickle—curse and thorn.
The nightmare that the hush has borne.

IV. Silena and Ravickle

At twilight’s hush, where dreamlight softly dwells,
Silena walks, Wisps about her calm and deep.
She sings a song the forest knows so well,
To guide the breath of stars toward gentle sleep.

Her footfall parts the veil of dusk from day,
A hush that soothes each murmuring refrain.
Through ancient boughs, she winds her silver way,
And draws night’s curtain across the dreaming plain.

She is the fae of silence soft and sure,
Whose murmur lulls the chaos of the night.
Her touch is calm, her presence full and pure—
A lantern gleam that sets all fear to flight.

Yet Ravickle, of Boggarts, stirs the air—
Claws like thorns, he drags the dreams from grace.
He howls with glee from rafters, cold and bare,
And twist the hearth-light into a shadows face.

He sends Wisps of guilt in curling, sour breath,
He fans the flame of sorrow and regret.
His curse is panic, terror, grief, and death,
In every soul where hope and peace are set.

But Silena sits in moonlight’s glowing care,
A still-eyed queen of fragrance, sound, and mist.
Her fingers braid the yarrow in her hair,
And from her lips, a lullaby is kissed.

Her voice flows soft through dreamers’ open doors,
A pulsing song that binds their breath to peace.
She seals the sills with dew in silver pours,
And bids the gnawing noise of dread to cease.

Ravickle cackles, wild and sharp with spite,
He flings his shrieking horror through the trees—
But moonwort blooms deflect his brambling blight,
And scent of lavender dissolves his pleas.

He claws at windows, moans behind the glass,
He smears his fog across the newborn light.
But Silena, calm, will let no monster pass—
Her lullaby is law, her dreams are armored right.

At midnight’s turn, she spins the winds again,
A web of stars and silence finely sewn.
Where Ravickle would stir unrest and pain,
Her quiet weaves a vocal all its own.

V. Night Chant of the Ancient Shore

Silver glides—through night’s solemn stillness.
Hush of winds—whispers low, in the still sky.
Fading, drifting, where moon-tide is turning,
Moonlight shimmers—as dark waves go by.

Silver gleams—while the sea wind is singing.
Branches moan—from the old ghostly pine.
Calling the souls—to their hush-bound resting.
Moonlight drifts—on a black ocean line.

Distant stars—on the waves-breathe are shining.
Night winds roam—telling secrets to me.
Calling the souls—to soft slumber’s silence.
Moonlight shimmers—on tides wandering free.

Silver gleams—where the still wave is sighing.
Branches hum—from the jack pine so low.
Lulling my soul—to sleep in its silence.
Moonlight hums—where the sea spirits go.

Silver it veils—each hush-breathing ripple.
Wind breathes slow—like a dream lost in me.
Calling my soul—to the hush of the hollow.
Moonlight sings—on the tide’s melody.

Waves are at rest—silver shadows now sleeping.
Night winds speak—like a ghost in memory.
Calling my soul—to their arms of stillness.
Moonlight shimmers—on deep, wisp of sea.

Waves lie soft—in the hush of their slumber.
Branches still—while the dream flows free.
Beckoning all—to the drift into silence.
Moonlight lingers—on sighing sea breeze.

Silver remains—though the night winds have faded.
Dreams now dim—like a mist lost at sea.
Souls are called—to a hush-shaded haven.
Moonlight drifts—as the waves cradle thee.

VI. Dawn Nears

Ravickl sends despair to twist the restless head,
A choking storm to smother dreamers’ trust.
Yet in her gaze, no tremble, doubt, or dread—
She stands where all is still, and all is just.

With steady breath, she sings the world to sleep,
Each verse a thread that shields the soul from harm.
While he, undone, retreats with snarling leap,
Her silence holds, unbreaking, full, and warm.

At dawn she lifts her arms in soft farewells,
Her song dissolving into amber skies.
She seals the hush with final, sacred bells—
as kisses of peace beneath the waking rise.

Where Ravickle once prowled in bitter spite,

She blesses, heals, she is the Lord’s refrain.

Her lullaby outlasts the scream of night—
dew and calm restore the realm at dawns reign .