The White Of Seven Poem by Micah Krahn

By Micah Krahn


The White of Seven she was once called. It happened long ago before the iron age of dominant desolation. Before the tyranny of her darkened time, where the kingdom was plagued with an ageless blackened vile deathly decimation, devastating every creature in its wake.


Too long the people had been shackled in the tyranny of fear, prophesied was the coming of the one who would defeat the blackened death which consumed the land and bring back balance back to the land.


Aged prophesies and fables evaporated into legendary song, where the menfolk of surrounding villages would drown their inequities in bottomless barrels and endless flasks of golden ale.


A tale almost forgotten, of much more than mere bravado begins with the chronicled fore age of yester sinless equality.Children of the lost borne to the lash of indecency and decay, upon their very life they gave birth to noble accord and justice for all free peoples within the sovereignty of the empire.


Long ago there was a solitary king, save for his only daughter. her name was Snow. He sceptered his kingdom from all provincial colonies within his domain. On the eve of a forte decade of his reign while grieving the loss of his queen. There were unsettled reports of scavengers infecting his peaceful realm.


A mysterious army which came from out of nowhere. Each village this unheard enemy desecrated His people with no quarter and without the possibility of surrender. No prisoner of war was left alive. Vindicated by injustice, the armies of the King rode out to conquer this untamed vicious and heinous foe.


Annihilated his enemy save but one, a young enslaved girl fettered behind the main escort of this demonous destructive enemy. Over encumbered by her extravagant beauty he wed her the next day, neglecting the counsel of his advisers, replenishing the void in his heart left by his late queen. Upon his devotion to her, he bedded her.


Captivated by her beauty, and unaware of any threat while bedding his new queen. His vulnerability reigned supreme, she thrust a hidden dagger into his heart and watched his soul drain from his eyes. Simultaneously she replaced him as nothing more than just a memory, killing all advisers, enslaving the crown lands with her deathly plague of stagnation and imprisoning the King's five year old daughter in the castle's dungeon.


Sixteen long years passed, as Snow aged in the castle's dungeon living the life of captive rather than of a princess. Every few days a guard would come to her cell and dish her out some rations, only enough to survive for two days. This guard had a weakness for young beautiful women, he watched Snow every few days and would often talk to her. His weakness would be his eventual undoing.

On Snow's 21st birthday, she escaped the castle's keep when an opportunity presented itself, the guard let his eyes wander a bit too far by the time he recovered it was too late. She stole his keys and knocked him out.


Fleeing to the forest, wandering the glades for what seemed like days she came upon a small cottage. It looked cozy on first sight but on closer inspection. Unhinging the door from its shackles, she stepped inside. Too exhausted to care about the dire circumstances of an innocent looking cottage, she braced the door with something heavy found the closest bed. Which was puzzling to her because there was not one bunk but seven. That was her last thought before collapsing into a bed from acute fatigue. The beds were too short for her slender petite figure, so she slid three together and lay on them in an outstretched position.


Unperturbed by an approaching crowd of jubilant caroling alienating from beyond the grove, just behind the cute cozy cottage. As the joyful noise came closer, the unknown group was just outside the door. The door handle rattled but the door remained unaltered. Bewilderment surrounded the group began to chatter aimlessly amongst themselves. 'Who locked the door? ' one said. Another said 'there is no lock on the door' the last voice, a rather bashful one said 'perhaps if we used brute force we could muscle the door to give way' puzzled looks among one another for a few seconds and then with a one-two heave they burst into the cottage with a large roaring commotion. It hardly produced no more than a hushed moan from Snow.


Perplexed at what the group saw before them. Wildly yet in hushed tones they began chattering and discussing as to what to do with this new problem which faced them. One burped loudly. A sleep cut short, Snow yawned. Silence erupted.


Stretching, sitting up she opened her eyes. Revelations unfolded. Seven mining Dwarves! A lady? Neither party new exactly what to do. Snow got up, ushered them out of their own house.

Cleaning the cottage from top to bottom, from spic to span. Finally she opened the door and told them they wouldn't be allowed in their own home until they had bathed. Laying down the law.


She would become more than a mother figure to these dwarves, they would love her more than a friend. She was


And so the legend follows henceforth...