A few people at the back of the room start head bopping to the drums, the tempo isn’t that fast, which makes the Fae laugh. He launches into the next verse with renewed enthusiasm.
—----
With the lightning fast spears behind him,
His sense of accomplishment didn’t dim,
So onwards he walked with new found pride,
He had nothing that he had to hide,
It didn’t take long for his next obstacle,
Appeared for him to face and tackle,
Blocking the path was a version of himself,
Yet it was a picture of perfect health,
He walked up to his mirror image,
The Copy was off by just a smidge,
His opposite was standing straighter,
With the proper stance of a black tie waiter,
This wasn’t just him as he was there now,
This was him with confidence that made people go wow,
The Hero slowly reached out with his arm,
The Copy mirrored, touching fingers without harm,
After a few minutes of every move getting blocked,
He started to feel like he was being mocked,
So he decided it was time to end this fool,
With his Kangaroo powered sharp tool,
His sword singing notes strangely muted,
His Copys sword left the air disputed,
Every sound that left his sword pure,
Was distorted leaving his ears sore,
Each swing was perfectly matched,
His attacks were precisely catched,
The fight was one of futility,
Enhancing his feeling of humility,
Until he decided it was time to stop,
To the floor, exhausted, he did drop,
While laying there he did some thinking,
Which at first left his mood sinking,
He was stopping himself from progressing,
His lack of progress was kind of depressing,
How to beat that which is unbeatable,
Stopping now was extremely unpalatable,
His mind kept going back to the first moment they meet,
Under its gaze he had felt power and heat,
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
His copy standing straight and tall,
Embodying the belief that he would never fall,
He realised that he never actually felt that way,
But he would like to and have that feeling stay,
With a sense of purpose he returned to his feet,
The intoxication of his own power was rather sweet,
Looking his Copy in the eyes, he straightened his back,
He now knew this was to correct what he did lack,
With confidence and poise he walked forward,
His movements with purpose propelled him toward,
The Copy smiled as it met him once more,
Both striding with power that none could ignore,
Instead of stopping the Hero walked through,
Knowing that to himself he was being true,
That he hadn’t been standing up like he could,
Like he now knew he always would,
Into a fine mist the Copy dispersed,
In his new confidence the Hero was immersed,
With his self belief soaring in the sky,
The rest of trial was beaten first try,
No breaks or stops for hammers or pools,
Even easily dispatching some foul ghouls,
The Commentator congratulates the Hero,
For climbing up from being a zero,
He has the presence, power and grace,
To conquer any challenge he will face,
His time in the arena is at an end,
Nothing is left here today that could contend,
The Commentator says the it is time leave,
In yourself you should always believe,
Back through the door that you came,
Going out now you’re not the same,
Everyone here wishes you luck,
Now go out there and clean the Worlds muck,
The Hero left to applause that was felt,
The calls and shouts made his heart melt,
Support was flowing without end or price,
Only thought he had was that this was nice,
Now to continue the journey, one more door to try,
From the challenge he won’t be shy,
Returning to the wooden room, where it started,
From which his old self he had parted,
The last door was standing their calling,
There was no point in stalling,
So he reached out and opened the door,
He’d felt the call of challenge and wanted more.
Wrote the line below then the next one popped into my head immediately.
The problem was his copy couldn’t be beaten,
Sheldon appeared and shouted WIL WHEATON!!!
