(Forewarning: mentions of death)

Beneath the willow you will find,

A rotted corpse and a rusted ritual knife.

It once belonged to the mad King Ra’Hinë,

Who besought immortality with his wife.

Together they scoured the realms in delight,

In search of a cure to their awful plight.

Deaths maidens tarried behind them in sight,

Awaiting the time to thieve their light.

By the willow tree did they offer their blood,

Demanding their souls true birthright.

They capered around the ancient tree with a thud,

Unaware of deaths presence in the night.

The wife was stolen within twilight,

Her body collapsing betwixt the willows roots.

King Ra’Hinë wept until dawnlight,

His beloved wife cradled in arms and mute.

Deaths maidens whispered within his ears,

Immortality requires a sacrifice.

That is why you are here,

Your wife shall suffice.

King Ra’Hinë spurned and scoured the Gods,

Attempting to animate his beloved dead wife.

But naught seemed to work in his odds,

For she remained a corpse throughout his bitter life.

Vaela was buried by the willow tree centuries thus,

The ritual knife rested within both skeletal hands.

This is what you shall find say you fuss,

Within these foresaken and haunted lands.