In the depths of my grief, I struggle to find shelter for our children my love, to keep them warm as they slumber. My thoughts are filled with rage and bitterness, yet the cano have no mercy for my travails.
It is the time when Orvilya roars with a tempest to move the waves of Orear. Orvilya’s winds carry the scents of the beasts throughout Daer’eryn, as usual, to pollinate the flowers and prompt the beasts to throng the lands. It was as I remember our best season.
Continue reading “The Song of the Daerwood”
“This much is true, it is the way of light for Amme to birth, tend, care for and watch life grow. It is however the way of darkness to kill, leech off of our glory days and grow fat on the carcasses of our joy.
Do not be fooled. Ornore is no Amme. Ornore is Urdu. Let Lome swallow the Cano into the unending depths of Lomenore, that wretched ancient beast of death.“
Continue reading “A Lament for Yeldenore”
In the age of the Canohellenore, empowered by Ilfirincala, the eternal ever fire, Orisil took hold of Adar in order to whip Lome back into Lomenore, the realm of darkness. As Orisil whipped the night beast, a piece of pure white stardust fell from Adar’s countenance and landed on Amme.
The stardust took form and raised itself from the ground, touching the earth beneath it with Adar’s Ilfirincala. I was that stardust, Yondo Elen, the firstborn of Adar and Cundu of Elennore and this is the lyr of our beginning.
Continue reading “The Lyr of our Beginning”