The Last Sentinel’s Awakening

Deep in the valley, where moonlight would gleam,

Lay a village once peaceful, adrift in a dream.

But whispers grew heavy, the night filled with dread,

For wails from the mountain rang hauntingly spread.

A melody eerie, a moan like the tide,

Like sorrow and wonder entwined side by side.

The villagers listened, their hearts filled with fear,

Yet a few brave souls vowed to draw near.

With torches held high, through forest they tread,

To seek out the sound that beckoned like dread.

The cavern lay waiting, its mouth yawning wide,

A secret long buried, refusing to hide.

Through tunnels they wandered, past ruins of old,

Walls etched with symbols, their meaning untold.

Yet deeper they ventured, past bones turned to dust,

Till silence fell heavy, as deep as their trust.

And there in the hollow, beneath ancient stone,

Lay something that slumbered, forgotten, alone.

Not bones of their fathers, not ghosts of the past,

But a being so ancient, awake now at last.

Its form was immense, like stone shaped by time,

Its skin bore the runes of a lost, broken rhyme.

Eyes deep as oceans, as black as the night,

Staring in silence, devoid of all light.

"A keeper? A king? A relic forsaken?"

None dared to recall what here had been taken.

Yet echoes resounded where secrets were sealed,

A pact long abandoned, a fate long revealed.

The village had thrived, yet buried its shame,

Their forebears had stolen and tarnished its name.

They plundered its wisdom, its riches untold,

Then left it to slumber in darkness and cold.

Now risen in hunger, its wrath uncontained,

For justice, for vengeance, for oaths once profaned.

The villagers trembled, their breath running thin,

Now faced with the specter long buried within.

A choice lay before them, to flee or to stand,

To honor the past or let darkness expand.

And as dawn broke crimson in sorrowful skies,

The village stood altered, with fear in their eyes.