The sun was gone. The only light that shone
Was a reflection off the fading sky,
Yet faded not the gold out of the roof,
For, at the touch of darkness, fireflies,
Lit crisp like Christmas candles,
Appeared and turned the leaves to paper lamps.
By their increasing light Shane darkly saw,
The trees were shorter, less cathedreal,
The trees were further, less orderly ranked.
Under his bare feet there gradually came
The green impalpable caress of grass.
“But what are these woods? How did I come
So deep within their pathless unaware?"
Varr frowned with thought before he answered “Come.
Rest for your weariness lies yonder near.
There shall I answer. For now, I know not
How you came here. I know well how you woke;
So woke I too, though many years ago.
I opened up my eyes, and saw great cliffs
A-towering far above me where I lay
Deep in a shady vale bedecked with vines
And saturated with the scent of fog.
Over the years, I have met many such
Who suddenly awoke on crags and hills.
Yet one who knew who brought him to this place
I never met. Yet see, here the trees thin!
You already had come near to the edge
Ere I was sent to meet you." “Sent by who?"
Asked Shane, now aching from his bleeding side
And limping as he came. His guide gave him
A reassuring, twilight hidden smile,
As if to promise more, but only said
“I long ago was taught, when once the wind
So summons, not to question, but to go."
Then just beyond the trees the boxer saw
An ancient tower, never proud or high,
Now half-collapsed to no more than a hut.
Behind it swept the rearmost stand of trees
Beyond which lay wide plains invisible
And stars appearing like the fireflies.
“Here" Said Varr “May we lie safe, once I a
Watchman capture. Wait here, brother, and watch!"
The warrior disappeared inside, and Shane
Was left to wonder mutely on the need
To catch a watchman. Night breeze brushed his skin,
He shivered, and commanded stern his thoughts
To think otherwise. Airborne drops of light
One by one drifted lazy through the grass.
As he stood motionless, the fireflies
Began to tend toward him, as distant stars
Will slowly list in circles round the holes
Punched through the firmament. They gathered close
Into a living galaxy, with Shane
For axis. There he watched them, pain forgot,
Forgot the mysteries that gnawed his brain.
He only watched with unabashed delight
The drifting revolutions. Cautiously,
Lest he should frighten, stretched he forth a glove.
Two fireflies drifted epicyclical
And settled there, like beacons on a hill.
He drew them gently close, until their light
Cast shadows upward on his face, and gazed
As if he never saw a bug before.
Their shells were jade and golden, and their eyes,
Glittering with solemn curiosity,
Were amethysts. Their lights unblinking hid
The edges of their forms, just as the sun
Conceals the sky by lighting it too much.
And as the boxer smiled and breathed again
The fireflies took flight toward the trees
And joined another galaxy, that spun
Under the forest eaves. Shane felt himself
Go tense, for he could see by fireflylight
That someone stood within this nebula.
Their form was dim, and ill-illumined, but
The boxer knew they had been standing long
Enough for lights to come round him as well
As they encircled Shane. He liked this not. 
He raised his fists, and took a ready stance.
At movement of his foot, the fireflies
All scattered, both from him and from the shape
That now was hidden in the velvet night.
Even as he peered, there came the tread
Of Varr returning, clanking as he came,
And carrying a basket of a size
To just contain a kitten. “What is it?"
The warrior whispered, at Shane's warlike stance.
“Something is in the woods. I saw it not
But saw the floating lights surround it, as
It loomed and watched me. It may still be there."
Varr squinted, with his hand upon his hilt.
“I nothing see," said he, “Yet let us not
Purposeless stand unsheltered in the night.
See! We shall sleep in readiness, and shall
Alerted be of any peril. You
Already draw our watchmen near again."
So saying, he swept through the unlit air
The basket to scoop fireflies, just as
A fisherman plucks from the sea his catch.
Light shone strong through the chinks. The warrior said,
“Should any evil thing, intending harm,
Draw near, these fireflies all douse their lamps,
So will we know if foemen lie without
The while we lie within. Thus set your mind
At ease. Whatever wight you might have seen
Can mean no harm to us. The fireflies
Burned brightly all about it, as you said."
They turned to go inside, Shane still uncalm.
“It may have been no foe, but nor no friend.
Why did it hide itself in dark?" he said.
Inside, the ruin had been cleared. The roof
All reinforced with branches. The smooth earth
That was the floor was spread with rushes, and
The fallen blocks of wall were stacked along
The one side of the room to form a bed
With furs for mattresses and quilts. The fire
Lay cold and black upon the hearth, where Varr
Was bent to kindle it. The only light
Came from the basket. Yet a moment more
And up the kindling leapt, and bathed the room
In sunset hues. “Do bar the door," said Varr,
“And sit. You soon will ease your weariness
With bandages, and food and drink, and rest,
But most of all with answers. I have wine.
Waybread have I, and cheese both savory
And sweet. Dried fish and salted meat there are.
So break your fast, and satisfy your thirst,
And presently your questions I will sate."
At first Shane found himself unsure about
The food, for it was not as he was used.
But caution hunger overcame, and soon
He ate, if not with relish, like the fine
And epicurial, but with the plain
Coarse gusto of a man who wins his bread
With hearty toil and sweating of his brow.
The warrior, meantime, laid his armor by.
He stacked it with his shield beside the door.
Unbuckled he his tassets and his greaves,
His breastplate shining and the shoulderguards.
His helm he laid on top. His coat of mail
He hung upon a jutting crack of rock.
His heavy boots he piled against the door.
Beneath his shell of steel plating he dressed in but
A kilt or loincloth, bound about his waist,
A tunic, worn and frayed, and a gold band
Fit snug below the shoulder sinister.
His chest and arms were crossed with many scars,
Some recent, some that seemed almost as old
As he. Now liberated from the weight
Of arms, his limbs relaxed and hung at ease.
His mighty sword and sheath he laid beside
The bed. Then fetched he bandages and gauze
And ointment sickly-smelling, and with these
He dressed the wounds he had inflicted. Then
They broke their bread together, without speech.
At length, when conquered hunger was, Shane spoke,
“You spoke of answers. Three questions have I
That I would speak to you. You spoke of more
Who here awakened, knowing not the why,
Even as you and I; where are they now,
How is it you alone did come to me?
What peril is there, that we need a watch,
For I saw nothing deadly but yourself;
What foe will insect lanterns warn us of?
And finally, you said that you were taught
To follow wind, which led you to me. Who
Taught you this craft, and who drew out this skill
In you?" The boxer silent fell, and crossed
His arms across his chest. The warrior sat
As if in thought, then said “All these are one.
Indeed, there once were many others here.
Indeed, there is a wicked peril nigh.
Indeed, the wind I followed to the place
Where you were wandering was as a guide.
No wind has stirred within those woods for years.
Yea, there was one who taught me of its speech.
To answer all of these requires a tale
Both long and grim. If you would take your sleep,
I gladly shall reserve it for the morn."
Shane shook his head. “I have slept quite enough
Of late, and you will find that I endure
More weariness of body than a tale
Can lay on me. Say on," the boxer said.
Varr fetched a flask, drank deep, and passed it on.
Shane drank, and found the taste was honeylike
But strong as brandywine. Then Varr began,
“The tale I tell you now is more than I
Do understand. Forgive me if stray
Off of my certainty along the way."