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Book One

Part 1:

“NUMBERS”

“It is a very special day today”, said Joriahs.

“Today is the day we meet our King!”

“Today is His Birthday!” 

A joyous frenzy swept over the crowd, cackling and bellowing, shifting and waving. The time had come. Their lives swelled before them and made them all the wiser to their talking, which they used to call out His name in new ways, and it was pleasing to behold. 

The King looked at all who loved Him and sighed to Himself.

“What a pity”, he said.

“That I should die here alone on my birthday.”

“Are not the chanters worthy?”

“My soldiers, my faithful who would spill an ocean of blood for My Name alone.”

“Where have they gone?”

“Must it be so? Am I truly the only one?”

The jubilance and wonder of the crowd had begun to swell into a ferocious frenzy of Names and Numbers. They mustered every voice they knew, both inside and not, and called for their King. 

They were afraid.

“My friends”, said the Minister,

“Let us break this place. Tear down the false walls and Towers. Cast out the wicked and the wondering.”

“Tonight is a grand night.”

“Our King has come.”

“Rejoice in His Splendor

Part 2:

“DRAGON”

Hurrah, Hurrah! 

The Dragon has come

With breath he burns

With legs we run

Hurrah, Hurray!

The Silly Old Fool

For he knows not

Which Kingdom to Rule

Hurrah, Hurrah!

The Festival Hour

Of Golden Glory 

And Crowns to shatter

Hurrah, Hurray!

I see him now

Alone in His thinking 

With sweat on His brow

Hurrah, Hurrah!

Do you wonder my King

Why the dancers have stopped

And the singers don't sing

Hurrah, Hurray!

Your Luck has run out

The hallways are jagged

The minotaurs shout

Hurrah Hurrah!

Oh Glorious King

You needn't worry 

of trifling things 

Hurrah Hurray!

For the Dragon has come

To eat out our hearts 

Under Bloody Red Sun

Part 3:

“THE ROTTEN KING”

“My Eyes”

“Where are my Eyes”

“You there. Bring me my Eyes so that I may See”

“Bring my retinal cloaks and my starlit pustules”

“My fallen totems and shifting pyramids”

“Bring to me the banquet of what-I-deserve”

“It is so cold without them. Please, would you bring them to me”

“My beloved Eyes”

He stepped upon his velvet pyre with an innocent evil sparkling in the darkness of his eyes. The day was still far off and yet he could no longer contain his excitement. Gone were his loyal servants, their arms and ears strung up with sinew. The guards were still at their posts, though their eyes and hearts had been plucked from their bodies and the spaces filled with the decaying corpses of slugs and nightmares. He knew they would be waiting for him when that day, that exuberant day came at last. But for now he sat alone and waited and waited. He had no more souls to pollute, no more bodies to break, no more subjects to satiate his whimsy. In this palace of the grotesque that he had made, he began to feel a maddening boredom. Like the butterfly who has had his fill, the King turned to other things. Darker things. He turned to the rotten guards with a gleam in his eyes most unpleasant and spoke with poisoned tongue. “Time has been my friend, oh dearest of subjects. The more I feast upon what lies within, the stronger I grow in the knowing of my fancy. My bloodied words and scrolls of flesh will serve me well now as I knew they would. I will remember your sacrifices, my children, for without the mouse the lion dies”. The decaying bones twisted and cracked and the King fell into a maniacal laughter. He threw up his hands in auspicious signs and wove the souls of vile beasts and putrid toads throughout the still breathing piles. He stripped the skin from their bodies and gave to them new life. Pain became their purpose and suffering their master. “Fools,” said the King. “It’s just a bit of fun”.  

Part 4:

“THE FOOL”

“But I am Wicked’

He sighed 

“You are My Son”

Long ago before the world was cracked and the mountains and oceans called the sky their home, there lived a young man and his father. They had a simple life, and good were their tidings. High up upon a hill that faced the East was where they laid their heads at night. It was upon this hill that the young man was born, as was his father and every man that had come before and will follow after. They spent their days picking the Flowers of the Mountain for that was all they needed. The Flowers gave to them every single thing they could ever need and they knew that this was good. There was no desire to be found, for they had the Flowers. 

Part 5:

“THE CASTLE ON THE EDGE OF TIME”

Sho’Rhan was lost. Awoken abruptly from his wild slumber and long cast into the shallow pool of awake. His concept-organ still twinkled with the utterance of those words, those wonderful words he had understood oh so long ago. 

“Yours is the way of Masters, the way of Pilgrims and of Stone Faced Giants. Cherish the true and rend the false from the hearts of the unworthy. Holy is thy Name. Blessed is thy Sword of Cruel Forgiveness. Walk always in Righteous Blood ISTGEOD, for yours is the Way of the KING.”

The planar scapes were becoming frequent now. He was lost, yes, but not in the forests of the seas. He had navigated the cities of the Gill-Crested Lords and drank from the knowledge that flowed from their ever shifting faces. He was not lost in the mountains high, where Dragon fire licked at the skies tender wounds and the stars called idle lords Master. He had spoken to the rocks and learned the Truth and from the grass he learned Why. No, Sho’Rhan was not lost in the world of knowing. He was lost in the temple of his mind.      

Part 6:

“THE UNKNOWN EAST”

(Untranslated)

“Ah Shrala Voku Dokhiin” 

“Viotya Astrola Ortu Kon Raast”

“Ashakra Orvos” 

“Hilaal Dor Krova”

Aiandu the mountain sat. For Chrs’Aki was to come. Here and there the old man watches. Why I know not. How is lost. Svidkar Estula when the rain departs the world and leaves only madness in the wake of its needing. I am not Estora, Vimti Shrala but without the thought. Ioxi Belak. Xrajo Ifritas BorDaga. You cannot Shai Dokrahh. Estol Ins Forkar and yet Xhashi wields swords that sing forgotten tales. Borj Frajaa is his first and only, woe of winter, the lost and forgotten. Call to the Loga Vishkti, questions and understanding are useless Zeor,  Ghadriel Xedvas Iss unless Torjha walking is falling and between is when the roads collide. Sing Carsas and Estul Khishri belongs no more. We are the Forgotten. The Dar Kothsis Voro’Shi, Atul Ves, joining peace between brothers in glorious music. Sinfas Toruum dances with me in Zhadriel Esti and glorious Qwaios. 

(Lost) 

“BRING HIM TO ME” 

“ZAKXSTI AS THE COOL RAIN FALLS”

“LET US BE ONE”

“SHAI KUESTAS AND MY HEART IS GONE” 

“ALL HAIL SUIREN DAR” 

“VISZRAK SHORRU SUIREN DAR” 

“ALL HAIL SUIREN DAR” 

“Send voice to the people, Shorru Ekshra will not Ziost to be unseen. Voikraas are the wind and rain. Suiren Dar is the Way”

Part 7:

“BRIOS OF THE MOUNTAIN”

“Heavy shook the boulders” 

“On the farthest Mountainside”

“Steady were the shoulders”

“Where ancient Dragons died”

“Highest is the Mountain Peak”

“Where Giants do reside” 

“Lonely is their long lost King”

“The Father of the Skies”

Brios was not made to be a common man. His was the Blood of the Mountain. Rivers were his veins and great stones his making. Fire was his heart and it burned everlastingly, rupturing his fragile eyes and wrenching the treacherous thought from his aching mind. As days became years and the world was unmade by it’s making the fire grew ever stronger. It scorched the chambers of his body, calling for him to remember. Remember why he was here. His being receded then for a time, lost in the torment of the fire. It brought him only pain and the memory of his longing. The time before the madness, before the Wondering, before the Fire. When he walked the barren ground the soil dried around him. When he reached his hands to the clouds, the crystal pools boiled and were lost. The fire consumed him and became all that he was to be. 

One day after the Morning of the Rain, Brios came upon a lost Crazteel whose eyes were that of sorrow. He looked upon the beast and saw no fire in its way, for only darkness remains in the hearts of the wandering. No pity fell to him, nor did the sting of jealousy rot him away. He saw this beast through the fire and was at peace. Taking it to his side he erupted in ferocious laughter, shaking the sky and bringing down a joyous thunder that echoed across the land and bellowed through the waters of the world. He was understood and now in turn could understand. He found himself a mountain and called it Khadrak for it was triumphant in its making and he took with him a great stone from the foot of the mountain to be his only memory carrying it ever more. There he remains and there shall he be until the end of days when  the world is dragged into the fires of his heart. Alone he is no longer and happiness is his being. 

Part 8:

“THE 47 SWORDS OF KHAS’HIA”

“Steady my student, steady as the dragon. Steady as the wings of gold that fly all through the mountains. Be as fire in the midst yet cool as flowing water. The sword it lies within the mind waiting for its master.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Pull it forth and be awake, my teachings are useless to the soul. Drown it in the blood red drink and die a thousand times. Learn a thousand names and two more will come to the light. Study not the names and symbols. The words are but a whisper. In draws the breath. Out flows the warrior.

There is glory in your insignificance. Cherish that which is beyond your touch but do not fall to blind worship. Darkness lurks in the lost corners of the world, eager to find the weary and teach them the ways of false dreamers. Their hunt is for the easy prey. Challenge to them is Absurdity and must be avoided”.

His footsteps were heavy. On his back he carried the World that is and in his soul was foul guilt. His muscles strained with every passing moment and yet forward he continued. 

The foot was raised and the Lords awoke. They scattered throughout the world and took to themselves women and land and all things golden and beautiful. From each other they took all there was and their hearts were filled with lust disguised as truth. From themselves they took their very hearts and cast them aside for they were ugly to look upon. From the Consorts they took children, to be as workers and farmers and consorts again. Those children born as men were thrown from the high towers of the Palace for fear a new lord would arise. Save for one. The favorite of all the Lords Women was given a name in the beginning and it was Ij’ahael, which is -the Dawn's Beauty-, for she was the fairest of all who walked the world and sky. The stars, who thought themselves the unquestioned rulers of all things pleasing to behold, began to appear as bright blue fire upon seeing her, in a vain attempt to keep their minds at bay. And so it came to pass that the Lord made this woman his wife and she was to bear him a son to take his crown. Ij’ahael was afraid. She knew now as she had always that she was unable to give him what he so desperately desired. Her divine beauty had come at a cost as she was unable to conceive children. So was the way of the natural world in that time. Chaotic in its beauty and raw in its forgiveness. But the Lord would hear not the stories of the world. Nor the words of his wife. Not a doubt lingered In her mind of this, for the Lord was consumed by maddening thought. The world was his and his alone. He would bend it to his fancy at the cost of all. In her chambers that night she fell to despair. She sat at the high window and looked far beyond the walls of the kingdom. Far beyond the green hills and wild mountains. To the stars she turned at last and stopped. The stars were watching her. A single tear shimmered in the light as it passed down her cheek and onto her chin where it hung for a second, glistening like a diamond, lost in the sky. It fell to the ground and the sky cracked. A great thundering went up from the stars and all was uprooted and tossed about. A fiery whip went up through the sky and crackled down as a many tailed rainbow and then erupted into a light so piercing, Ij’ahael could see only white behind her eyeless mask. Then all was black again. She thought for a moment and decided then to remove her mask which was forced upon her when she married the Lord. The eyes were absent on the mask to keep her own from falling astray. She removed it now with ferocity and braced for the colors to come alive. She opened her tired eyes and was unable to move. Before her lay a child. A boy. In his left hand there was a Flower of the Mountain and in his right there was a sword. And upon the blade, inscribed in starlight, was “Ij’ahaels Forgiveness”.

The foot stepped down and the world shook. The False Minded Kingdoms were thrown down one by one until all but the very ends of the earth were scorched beyond recognition. There he brought the people. The poor, the hungry, the sick, the elderly, the workers and the farmers and all the people who had served in their time. But he brought with him no Lords. Theirs was a Fate born of themselves and their crucible would burn everlastingly to fuel the evil of their hearts. 

Part 9:

“THE BEATING HEART”

Tuhlum the beating heart it roars. 

Second fire of fell Dag Rokka. 

Sound the bells and the beast comes at last. 

Burn our country to the embers of death. 

Down below the deep drum shakes. 

Lost is the master of the key and the whisper. 

Khio Hthyn. Des is Belaak. 

Form is but a word, spoken on the water's dew that twinkles in the starlight. 

Arise from westward castles, they are not becoming of the Lord of Masters. 

Divide the Colors of your Cities Sigils. 

The bounty of war is not found here when yours is the heart that is seeking. 

“How can I be so sure of my face when I look at my heart from the inside?”

“Peculiar it is to me and puzzling at least for now it seems. For if not to see it there, why here?” 

“Inside of you is your heart. The love of the world and of birds and song and laughter is there within thy breast. On naked wings thy heart was brought to you and by the One it shall return. This is why I have brought you here today.”

“So it is to be expected then.” 

“I’m afraid so. Say what all men do who Die and seal it with your solitary truth.” 

“Blood is not my enemy. I would die 1,000 times and die again and yet, lost is the sadness from my heart. So Lahkri Dor Valu Toraak and the Glory of the Thousand Suns! I am still the beating heart. Take me and fall to endless triumphs''. 

Part 10:

“MOON”

His mind was split-shoddy and still reeling from the shock. The wave had hit him with such tremendous power and to think it was barely a whisper. Such was the wisdom held by the Monks of Shai’Ahdu, masters of the martial magics of precise transitioning and greater disciplines still. Long ago they fell to darkness, hollowed by their hearts of want and consumed by Blood-Wine fury. He felt now that his foe was a clever one, not unfamiliar with the ways of GodSpeak like so many others. To them the words come easy but the truth is no longer. The deep understanding is lost to them for they see no world in which to use it. At once the silence fell upon him, like a wave to the rocks below and he lay there, broken and mind-bloody, trembling in his weakness. He stared at his opponent with razor-fed madness and in a frenzy,  recited prayers to dead gods whose names are lost forever. There was not a soul in the world that could feel their bodies' warmth, for all had become frozen by time. His mind distorted over and over, endlessly searching for the sign, the number of the Singing Child, the Holiest of visions and the wisdom of all that is Divine. And so it came to pass that he fell upon the word, and his stomach burned with fire. The glass that held the world began to tremble and break under the weight of his new knowing and the face of his enemy fell to darkness, for there is no escaping the Holy Utterances, if ever one is realized.

“You have struck with foul intention and darkness is the making of your mind. Thy power is great and there is much you hold against me, and yet thy end is spoken as Doom from my lips. In draws the breath, out flows destruction. Speak your words for they are useless Zeor. Mine is the mastery. Behold the Might that is within me and despair as all weak men do when faced with the Glory of God.”

Part 11:

“THE BLADE OF THE EAST”

“Shi Ehk Twi 

Drink the Red Drink 

Be at once 

As Us”

“Begone foul display, thou art a pollution on my face” 

“Try as though might, the star wounds persist and leave me in the wonder” 

“I will have no more of your I’ll thought prophecies” 

“Away with you and trouble me no longer” 

“Broken is the Bridge

Yet tread on it you must. 

Wise would thou be to head the words 

Wiser still to walk with us in Rusted Glory” 

“Will is but a whisper at my command” 

“Arhj Loe Kraastinn Sul Fuur Do’Rhaak”

“You know now what I hold and silent is your vile tongue, no longer gleeful in its talking.” 

“Ex-Khro-Shah is my name obscured” 

“I leave you now in ruinous envy” 

“Of those who are blessed without the truth.”

Part 12:

“THE SONG OF THE RAIN” 

He faced them alone 

Though we pleaded with him, “please, please do not throw yourself to this, For we will be nothing without you”, still he continued. 

The children cried and the maidens were lost in their hearts and the men and women, who were his in fellowship, fell to their knees and ushered forth from their hearts together, a prayer of sadness. 

But upon His face was a Reminder 

Of the Wisdom and Love that we all hold within. 

At once we were ready. 

The horns of the Kruun Aak Torr erupted in a roar of Triumph that bellowed joyously through the walls of the city and found peace in the hearts of the people. 

And then he spoke. 

“My friends. My brothers and sisters and all in my company whom I call my own. Do not forget this day. For today is a day of Glory! A day of Reckoning! A day of crumbling towers and blood-soaked metal! Today is Death and Sorrow Tenfold and it seems that all is lost! But I stand before you now with Fire as my testimony! Behold my heart and rekindle thy barren Flame!”

He faced them alone

Even as the arrows burrowed deep within his body and the swords cleaved away at his flesh, his face was a smile. 

“My friends! Stay not for me. Tonight is beautiful! Do not spoil this glorious evening with your tears of bitter sadness.”

“I shall return when My King sits upon His throne. All will be right then. Go now. And leave me to my peace.”

Part 13: 

“THE CHANT (AHZ LAAKRIOS VOR E’STUULA)”

(Untranslated) 

“Aaie Eshtahr Vorre E’Stuula” 

“Chraesta A’Hrahjah”

“Quies Tor Vhos” 

“Anjraa Sin Viiktos”

“Foerliin Ahlesb Rhaakt” 

“When One calls to Many” 

“Ahz Va’Akrash Vahkt”

“Sing with the mighty”

“His Voice Krii E’Stuula” 

“Like trumpets we echo”

“Ahz Laakrios Duunvah”

“Ahz Laakrios Ziohs” 

“Our hearts beat together” 

“Fiiostaar Ex’Dios” 

“Suiren Dar Lok Rhaat”

Part 14:

“EHX DAR KRAHLAASH” 

(Chapter 1)

“The Council of Iohg” 

“Who is it that sits before me now, bickering and snarling like children in need of Wise discipline. Do you not all see what it is that lies before you? Have your hearts been lost so long you have forgotten what you traded them for? Away from me with your foolish squabble. My presence is not given so freely, to wolves who wear the faces of men, nor pretenders wearing the crowns of Lords.” 

(As many)

“IOHG BOLAHQUIEM” 

“MINISTER OF THE ONE THOUSAND RING DYNASTY”

“FATHER OF THE BLOOD-STAINED PROPHECIES” 

“BIND US TO THE WILL OF ONE” 

“GRANT US THE VOICE OF WHOM WE SEEK” 

 “I see the Fire has not forsaken thy kin as I had hoped, and yet it falls from your mouths as sour drivel. You have all forgotten. But still I will indulge, for it is My Name to do so.” 

“Gather to me if you indeed are lords and hear my voice as it were your own.” 

“Zxeroxti Belaak Orduva Zinthiisos” 

“Opoxios Khiaafo” 

“Dreadgee Vor Karahk A’Stuul” 

“Bordoss Eiki Fahlas es Xkria” 

“Senjhal!”

“Senjhal Istiri!”

“Ahg Forx Es Vinladuun!” 

“Shai’Akkra Suiren Dar!” 

“Vol E’stuae Suiren Dar!”

(Amongst themselves)

“It seems he has fallen to weeping” 

“Yes but there is no sadness in his way” 

“Quiet your minds and mouths of foolishness. He matters to Us no longer. The words were spoken and they in turn were understood. We know now as we have always that there is no peace to be had between us that is not held together by anchors of glass.” 

“He is right! Blood has been our friend before and so shall it be one last time.” 

“Tonight shall be a night for music and feasting and of merriment for all in our kingdoms. Great gifts we shall grant them of shimmering jewels and glorious metal, but before their eyes will be a trick and the morning will come and be filled with Gold-Stained-Blood.” 

“We will see tomorrow if the words He spoke hold true, for one will remain to claim the crown and victory forevermore.” 

(As one)

“TOMORROW WE DINE IN DEATH” 

“TO LIVE IS SWEET HONEY” 

“TO DIE IS TO FALL TO THE WORLD” 

“WE ARE THE LORDS OF ALL” 

“MAY BLADES TAKE MY ENEMIES 

“AND SNAKES TAKE MY HEART” 

(Chapter 2)

“The Battle Dawns” 

And there upon the sacred mound of Ulahth’Ael, was where the Lords of the world did gather, and they were adorned in brazen armor that gleamed in the orange Sun like Fire and their horns were high and terrible, glistening green with envy. Some wielded Great hammers and blades, others ornate bows of gold and ice, but all were powerful beyond measure, for they were made to be used. 

And they gathered to them their Mind-Lost subjects and arranged them in patterns of grotesque dominance, each in competition to outdo the last. The horns bellowed and moaned from within the hoards and a sound arose from the joining so terrible, that the battlefield itself was plucked from the being and every Man, beast and thing both living and not was removed from the knowing mind, as to spare what little remained. 

But the sickly hearts of the Lords polluted their fragile minds and so they paid no heed to their sanctimonious wickedness and there was no mercy in them so they recognized not their willful sacrifice. 

The noise now had become a frenzy of writhing beasts, grumbled and croaking and roaring and hissing, and with them, other strange things began to emerge from within, oozing with glutinous perfection. They wore the faces of half-shapen priests and bearded men of cloth and wax, while others were the form of clouds, but without the shape at all. There were creatures with mouths of jagged teeth that were each the size of a man and faced inwards, as to trap the prey inside and all manner of horrid things that simple men call nothing, to save themselves the horror of knowing. 

And as the sky sat idle in its tomb, the Lords began to recite a final curse of flesh upon each other, binding themselves eternally in conflict and sealing themselves away forevermore, beyond all that shall ever be. 

(Chapter 3)

“The Battle of Dar-Rhaak”

All was still. 

Then came the Doom Drum, echoing from the deep, signaling the end of it all. 

In an instant the Lords and their oceans of brass and flesh flew at one another with killing intent and they surrounded themselves with a miasma of foul syllables that poured forth across the battlefield, blotting out the bleeding Sun. They were, as a frenzied chaos, like a great fire in the storm, wholly and wholly devolved, as once mighty men of earth and music, they fell now to their ruinous envy and fear became their Crown-of-Thorns. They fell upon each other like putrid waves in an ocean of death, killing and biting and tearing, and feasting on the flesh of the fallen in ritualistic depravity. Brothers slew their kindred by the thousands and yet there was nothing in their eyes, for the fire had been taken and used for the glorious facade of the Lords, who appeared now as towering dead forests amidst their soldiers, bloated and swelling with Blood-Red-Sin, like Pigs who think themselves Gods. 

And There, in that cannibalistic orgy of rage and sin, was the true face of men and Lords and She who saw it was angry. The men, the shepherds of the world to whom it was given of love and the Lords, as teachers, men of old, men of renown, to love is their blessing so why have their hearts been forsaken. She who made it so, in Love and Fury Divine, knew the answer well and heavy was her heart, as she weaved the Hidden Melody into the fractured World-Song. 

(Chapter 4)

“Kulitan Of-The-Stars”

-The Last Words-

“I am Y’lontwien. Minister of the 1000 Eyes. Child of the somber rivers. Bring me my sword. As I take one last glimpse of the world's womb that is my cradle, I am humbled and awake. Her illustrious majesty calms me, soothes my spirit wounds and washes the mud from my veins.”

“I am Y’twiel, born of the Sacred Music. Let my roar fill your ears and strengthen your hearts, for tonight we dine in death upon the sacred bones of our Earth-Mother, blessed be Her Holy name.”

“Rejoice now for She who thrice blessed the crystal pillars and wept for their sundering is with us. As we charge deep into the foul oceans that lie beyond, remember that we are children of the stars Great Whisperer and be uplifted.”

“I am Y'lontwi.”

“Bring me my sword.”

-Before the Battle-

There he stood, ten thousand at his back, tusks thrust towards the dawn sky. Before him, a great sea of unknown beasts hissed and spat, and their cries licked at the skies tender wounds. But they were silent to me. The air was empty, swallowed up by the slow, steady breath of the battle to come. In his hand, the secret star burned with a tremendous fury and he raised it in bloody defiance of the old rotting King. Then I spoke.

"I am Kulitan, child of the Sacred Mother. See me and let this form fill your hearts with the horror of her great vengeance."

All was still and silent. Even the crooked branches of the great forest ceased their endless dance and were frozen.

He spoke a second time, his voice a roar.

"I am the wielder of the great shining silver, watcher of the Ulündirri, Pilgrim of the sacred song." "I have walked twice away and back again through the shallow halls of the center-heart and felt the deep drum as my own." "Let the blood of my fury water sweet Uurnyas bones and grow grand blossoms from the drink."

There came a great thundering from the tusks. For they loved their King and their hearts were awakened by his roar. Clear shimmering hooves stomped the ground and once tranquil pools became as cruel and ever changing as the star-seas.

"By my right I ride fire and wonder. See me now and be at once awake with glorious music. My voice is cruel, heavy thunder and my breath, a summer storm. As I feed my heart to the wretched abyss, let your ears be opened and filled with Sweet Song. Understand the secret verse and do the same. Let our host be forever rusted in the blood spilt this day."

-The Battle-

The great beast thundered and bellowed, rattling the center-heart as it went. Its form was that of a vast, dead forest that sat upon 6 foul pillars. Upon its neck was a cruel and twisted flesh-name, made as a mocking visage of the Old Sleeper.

I stood before it on the small hill that faces the unknown east, as I do now and you will do before my second song.

"Hail Droknahiim, majesty of mountains and father of mud, for you are mightiest of all Her spurned. You are the drinker of crystals blood and the darkness found in all minds eye. But I am born of the true star and the mud cannot pollute my veins. I have walked the many spaces between songs and feasted upon the sweet drink within. Now I stand to face my end. Let our glorious music dismantle this place that is ours and shape it a new."

I drew in breath and let loose a mighty roar. The sky danced above in perfect confusion as the great battle commenced. The echoes of sword against foul hide shook the mountains and split the ground, causing Uurnyas blood to spill beneath our feet. For time eternal I fought the great beast with sword and song.I fell upon him again and again, each strike a cataclysm. My blade gleamed with pale starlight as it cut both flesh and stone, and drank of the putrid mud that oozed from many wounds. Upon this very hill is where we struck our final chord. Our great music left the world scarred and barren beyond repair. Upon seeing what had become of her favorite child, Y'lontwi Star Mother let loose her fullest and most terrible power. The sky trembled and was split. A great chorus of light divine poured forth and grasped the land, which was uprooted then from its heart and pulled into the sky. Suddenly my eyes were not my own, for I could see everything. I could see myself. Slowly all became one and then, was nothing. I peered deep into the dark mindless space and began my dance alone. I have wandered countless nights in the timeless halls since then but only now am I truly awake.

-The Last Note-

And during that time, known now as the long morning, all was not how it should be, but was how it could be. Long prisms of splendor stretched across the sky and left ripples in the fire there like fingers drawn through water. Then the sky became a great swirling flame of colors known and not, whose many bodies danced in and out of one another with grace divine. The ground began to shake with such force that all cities, both grand and small, were turned to piles of ash and dust. Out of the earth grew forth the great twisting roots of the Ulundirri, which went upwards to the sky and became locked with the pillars there until the world itself became a labyrinth of roots and fire. It was this way until the tears of Shi Y'lontwi watered the scorched ground and tuned the heart to a new song. But this end would not be for some time.

And so, as the fire danced its endless dance and the world sat idle in its tomb of glass, the hope of Her Children dwindled and was gone. One by one, their starlit eyes were blackened by the sky until they were absent of all light and their mouths, once mighty vessels of truth and wonder, grew dry and silent. They were lost and afraid and they trembled before the sky with outstretched arms. They begged for an end to their great tragedy, a silent plea unknown to be already in motion. As they continued to gaze into the darkness before them, their eyes were met with visions of the truth and it was understood. There were some however, who denied the cruelty of their cage and sought instead to understand it. They chose not to take their eyes and mouth and chose instead to use them. With great wonder they watched the twirling dancers in the sky and saw how they moved between the fingers in endless motion. They began to mimic the slow swirling movements, letting their forms be that of fire. They moved through the spaces in the pillars and as they did, their eyes were open to a new truth and their hearts were tuned to a new song.

-End of Book One-

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