Na'gurgen

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O’ Mernvan, whose iron shores hold back the salty sprays of the seas, long have and longer yet will your shores be crimson-stained. When first the land rose from her shackles in the depths of oblivion, forth from darkest non-times was she born to roam the Ether, time has been cruel to thee.

With your birth your breath filled the voids and the new heavens rained, filling her deepest valleys with the life-waters of Epoŋ. Mingling, mixing, Father Sea and Mother Earth in rapture birthed the noblest beings, the Trees and Plants. O’ great and old are they, keepers of darkest secrets, bloodied and cold, from Earth to the Heavens, the Trees and Plants.

But, fast and sharp, on silvery wings the tiny Crows attacked; out of the heavens jealous Domule lashed! From Domule’s hairs they were wrought, foul-stenched creatures on wing and wind, taken to torture and murder. Upon the wisest Heaven Threads the Sky’s hate was poured, the beautiful beings of Sea and Earth. “Rend, yes rend,” quoth the Sky, “destroy these warts!”

“Sea, our children! Sky kills them!” Earth raged and shook. “I know, Earth, but even my waves cannot save them but destroy the Crows, for your body is yours and destroy them both I would.” Earth’s trembling laments did shake the land, but Sky’s Crows did murder still.

So, for the Trees, Earth fashioned spirits, one for each, and to their bodies She gave motive being, and will.

So, sprung forth from softened hearts and hardened barks the Green Arðen came; long-limbed and sallow-pale, on lightest foot and leap they lashed. To her body the Black-Wings fell by arrow and bow.

“O’ Earth, your children hate! I gave you Sea so that these things you could make, and you gave them will so that my Silvered-Wings they may chase!” Sky roiled and his pearly-dark hairs bristled, burst, and boiled down onto the Earth and Sea, heavy sails of rains and sleet. Angry cracks of rage white hot split, great gullies and valleys open they ripped.

From the splintered and battered bodies of the Green Arðen burned for the first the Rage of Sky with crimson tongues of jealous flame. And it spoke: “O’ Father Sky and Mother Earth, how fortuitous your feud, for I am born! The heat, the rage, the passion, I am them! I am Amir ! These scars you left will be filled, I will burn these siblings to earthen ash!”

Across the lands and into the hills Amir consumed. Riding swift on his own winds, the Red Prince licked dry the plains and smote the Arðen in great numbers. So that he could rule the land, he brought with him the Pix, impen flames with hand and foot, who Amir’s flesh they spit. Taking fortress atop Mount Fuirmor , Green’s Bane sat on fiery throne; below the Arðen Woods burned and the Pix murderously roamed.

Domule spoke no more to Earth and Sea, their channels now closed, burnt, and ruin. The Thickle Fire Lord could not be quenched atop his mountain throne, no tempest nor wave of Sea would reach him, and lofty Sky spoke no more. Sea, tired of children, pled Earth to birth no more needy things Life, and refused her. Alone in reddest light from her bowels Earth instead wrought a vessel, of the soft and hard parts, brilliant blues and grays, so that Sea may be brought to Mount Fuirmor on Ŋadan’s back.

From Ŋadan, Earth made things. Like the Arðen, they were live, with branch and root, but all was within Earth’s kind womb. “Amir’s wrath may well destroy them, but long he will rage before.” When She spoke their name Yŋefir, out from the depths they lept. Stout and strong, the Yŋefir march forth to the shores and from Sea took flesh and to Fuirmor gave rest.

Amir’s flaming throne soon was quenched, its red rivers made cold and glittering with waters. At last the Bridges were remade to Domule, and commune with the others Sky did again. Now the Tempests rained down to clean the land, and down Fuirmor ran rivulets of Sea. The black torrents at her feet gave rise to Arðen and Green Towers, to fields and fruits, and to the rivers Tokem, Jœdr, and Зiun.

Na'gurgen

Chronicles of Mervan XorinDelfar