Rick walked back, trying not to shake,
His bones vibrated, his melodies became distorted,
Skipping beats once memorized and mastered,
Became difficult to piece together.
Rick had no choice but to use force of will,
To reinstate control over himself and his song,
I won't let fear smother me, gasp I will not,
Through present circumstance...

Before John could answer,
Two dead snakes rose back to feet unaware of death's jurisdiction,
By all that is reasonable, this can't be happening,
They are immune to injury, impervious to damage.
Confidence wavered, his voice quavered,
As blue garments threaded gold as well,
Delicately removed twigs and leaves, taking great care,
To not appear inconvenienced in the slightest.
Were it not for my gift of silence upon these six loyal servants,
Your songs would surely crush them no contest, however as they now are,
No words can stop them, no matter how sweet or intentioned.

So, what will it be?
My humble street performers,
Educated in the musical arts by none other than Sharin herself,
Venom or Silence? Make your choice carefully.
Everyone stopped listening to the sound of silence all around them,
She granted them permission to think this over, after only being given license to listen.
Rick turned his bowstring slack, lowered its direction to the ground, cocked his head towards John.
Kevin reached for his mallet, prepared to strike his rune blade, but Paul stopped him,
Lent a hand to ask him to wait patiently,
A single misspent move,
Could prove disastrous,
These snakeshead aren't human,
They move quicker than agility enables other men.

Those two unblemished necks,
Now lay severed on the ground, mouths agape.
Beside ruins made ancient by the urgency of now.
They were worthless in life, now in death they are lifted liabilities,
Faces turned away from secret truths.
Andulan felt the vines quickening inside her, they were growing restless,
New blood stood before them, tantalizingly close and ready to be eaten,
Now now, don't get ahead of yourself,
She said while covering her stomach with one hand,
We wouldn't want to waste good stock.
These men deserve venom not death.

She had her subordinates step back a moment,
Sheathed their fangs and returned to her side,
It was unseemly to slay a foe without presenting an offer,
To stand at grace's side.
You did well, my entitlement has seen better days, I dare say it is beyond saving,
She spoke beyond her years, as if they were already acquainted.
Who are you? John boldly demanded,
I have no reason to answer that question, better that you remain ignorant,
Lest I become a monster.
I see you've been studying Sharin's songs for many years,
You're all quite good, spent your whole lives practicing no doubt,
I could use people of such talent under my wing for you see,
I have a stooge surplus.

Wicked steel, green and deadly,
Chimed with disturbing rhythm,
John couldn't hear his thoughts, nor call upon song to aid him.
His voice was gone.
The other six performers stopped to witness a girl untouched by injury,
Emerge from the ruins of Toblin's carriage,
Seemingly unaware of the skirmish taking place,
Before her innocent, entitled eyes hidden behind a veil of lace held in place,
By a royal black coronet.

A singing axe, fully endowed, eager to please,
Cleaved the carriage in half, splitting it through the top,
Loosed by a man's voice at full force,
Supported by a trilateral tree,
Joined at the trunk by a lyrical sword and reaching polearm,
They took a defensive stance, watched the enemy, expecting retaliation.
Andulan's snakes slithered forward, cutting through hymnal barriers,
Rick's archery felled two serpents before they could get very far,
John's protection came back quickly to send a blade soaked in misery meant for him,
At breath's distance, he heard nothing from this one, it was silent absent expression,
Venom drizzled down his axe's head, sliding down its body of worked wood,
John shook it loose and dug towards a spinning flow of blue, It was beside him before,
He could breathe again.