The Colour of Time - Part 19

 

This time Dora entered the Temple under a Sapphire sky, all quiet, only accompanied by a faint prolonged whistle of the wind. In her white dress and barefoot she looked up to a round, illuminated window in an ornate wall the Temple had formed on the and out of the horizon. The light in the window had a magical touch about it and was yet only a reflection of the everlasting light in the clear blue sky.

'Dora of Wye;' Dora heard the deep, familiar voice right next to her. 'You have returned, one last time.'

Flakemane had emerged from the rocks beside the stone paved path, but not in his lion-form. Once again he was the white dragon-like creature with his yellow eyes, the guardian spirit Dora had known since her childhood.

Did he say she had returned one last time?

'Standing here at the King's port always feels like good-bye,' the bard sighed, humming another song while he was looking out on the deserted river. In his head he saw the waters flowing downstream until this smaller river joined the great River of Why.

'Did we ever find out if this big realm of ours really had a king somewhere?' the llama wondered.

'Is there a kingdom without a king or a queen?' the bard asked. 'And who would call a town Kingsport if there wasn't a king, animal?'

'Let's follow the river downstream,' the llama suggested. 'I still have got the strongest feeling we have to be in the Capital City of Earth by the end of this Holiday season.'

"Bromford"

'Cause I know that time has numbered my days
And I'll go along with everything you say

But I'll ride home laughing, look at me now
The walls of my town, they come crumbling down

And my ears hear the call of my unborn sons
And I know their choices colour all I've done

But I'll explain it all to the watchman's son
I ain't ever lived a year better spent in love

'Cause I'll know my weakness, know my voice
And I'll believe in grace and choice
And I know perhaps my heart is farce
But I'll be born without a mask

Like the city that nurtured my greed and my pride
I stretched my arms into the sky


I cry Bromford! Bromford! Look at me now
Then the walls of my town, they come crumbling down

You ask where will we stand in the winds that will howl
As all we see will slip into the cloud

So come down from your mountain and stand where we've been
You know our breath is weak and our body thin

Press my nose up, to the glass around your heart
I should've known I was weaker from the start
You'll build your walls and I will play my bloody part
To tear, tear them down
Well I'm gonna tear, tear them down

'Cause I know my weakness, know my voice
And I'll believe in grace and choice
And I know perhaps my heart is farce
But I'll be born without a mask

Today is Friday, the 19th of December 2025.