And so they emerged,
From that furnace of power,
Where magic itself,
Had been smelted and poured.
Where those strange metals,
Within meteor middles,
Were insufficient,
To hold the force back.
They were not of flesh,
They were not of flowers.
They were not of feathers.
They were not of flame.
And the rulers smiled.
And the priests wept.
And the hearts of the wise men,
Made them do both at once.
And that new race,
Said that we had been right!
It was just that they,
Should defeat our dark foe!
But it is not just about justice,
Pride plays a part also,
And they would not stoop.
To obey our pleas.
And thus, offended,
And they reentered the furnace,
They reentered their world,
Which was better than ours.
According to them.