From Aelathir Book

From the Northern Winds
He who is Descendant arrives through hardened soils
White ice, white skin outlining the Kingdom
From there, in between the purple horizon and the roads thirsty for tales
Fleeting and glorious
The Light of Crolin, the Caller, creates the Golden Dominion
Which is to set upon the New Lands
Lanserel, in the North
And Akil, following the Middle Line of Alisth in the South
They stretch their arms of immortal silver
And are witnesses
The Six on their evil thrones
Of pale ivory and lugubrious emblem
They succumb to the dismal howling of wolves towards Ahmoen
The Creatures of the Dark cry in their lairs
And from the depths of the Endless Caves
Screams of horror and sorrow rise from Clarr
For Arcadian, one of the Twin Swords
Once again is wielded over the fires
The Great Horde spills blood over the soils of the New Lands
But it serves as a driving force for the futures to come
And that shall come to spread the Feat of the Overlords of Summod
When the waters of Lumminen Lake attend the call
And when the history of Heredald again finds a narrator
The past shall be avenged and the future shall be ours again

Lon Idarar Nurdin
Mel Amelan al iniurar Landar eln
Lan mild Dian gidan Nes lan Ian hanoth
Lon na ehlen lan lenel Esil am hial Randurar Athilarin

Huronurar am rehar
Lan Vael Crolinin Krimon lan Ashaver midoth
Al lanam Mur Landar ealol
Lanserel il Nurd
Akil il Esser Listh om dor Esser
Iriar orthul Delninar Summin bealdonar
Am Iriar Simurar ehlonar
Mon Amis il Iorar seor Sdralarin
An mild Auled am leddor Anil
Ad minfar Werdasar Atruarin om Ahmmoen hirionar
Lanam Aermurar Haldunin il Iorar Issalarin dariloth
Am lon haralian Norar Ender
Lon Clarr Werar Dagarin am Udion alnonar
Af Arcadian dan anirarin Burian Saerar
Sall al Fuhrar saer
Lan En Mir unm Lur al lanam Linmar Mur Landarin
Aif Foerdar ehl a melar elnionarol
Am elnionarol a lan Dwenn Aelanar Summodin fearion
Ealin lanam Unnarar Lumminen Ernin lain Krim Histhonarol
Am sall Athil Heredaldin Iri Sumurin fin
Brin rildoth ehlol am sall Arar Sennmilin ehlol

Original and transcription of the Aelathir Book of Harith, preserved in the Athil Library of Iver Osterith


Alanvel's vision

The flight of the birds, breath of heights
The flight of the Northern skies
When crossing the mountains of Thersalis
The breeze rejuvenates their dream
Clarity of dawn that awaits
They know it’s one of the most beautiful
In the heights of Heredald
No one shall ever stop them
In the fields of Veracid
Or in Vahlass, in Lehrin
Over the Valleys of Tohmill, at Mount Blern
At Davian Valley or at Diros River that dies at Breners
The Dawn at Argabell and the Twilight of Orond Islands
Among the white clouds across the sky
Their pure wings have spread
Towards the land of Dargaros
Or towards Tesperk with its rattle tears
Waiting up for the morning dew
They have bathed in the fresh waters of the falls
And have slid down the fastest slopes
And have lain among fragrant flowers and plants
Among fruits and innocent trees
Whilst at Sigreth hillside they lost their plumes
At Urack and Kirard too
At the Snowy Forests of Cronn
Of Deriloht, Blummen and of Holt
There, they stilled their longing
Stars up high guided them in the night
On their wings the heavens of blue light
Magnificently dissolved into foam
In the oceans and streams of Wiel, Tresfer and Ehl
In the lakes of Vuldian, Tirold and Lumminen
Also in Norholm and Bissnen
In Lurhast and Fress
Like daybreak among roses’ floral leaves
Dreaming about the next route amidst their twigs
Friends to the nightingale and the eagles
Sisters of the wind
Of heights, in flying and gliding
Upon time of departure
Travelling far away to heights remote
To lands unknown
Never forgetting where they have gone

From Larith to Engerel

Until I reached that light, now gone
Then, coming back through the path
And his eyes were no more
The wind that led him shall never cease to blow
And its leaves shall dance in sorrow forevermore
In denial and in death
No more life. No. No longer alive
Only a blurred shadow of want and thirst
Over the weak thread of our lives
Of candle smoke or water frost
Who cares? But never, never the water
Freezing ice, my heart frozen
Only frost under red fire, shaped by the cold
Which someday the wind shall thaw
Stranger lost among strangers, spinning around his world
No place to go, no mantles covering his life
For my brother has died
Like a leaf, alone it goes, alone it gets lost
Silence of the day that has taken my voice away
For I have faith no more
I’ve lost the keys that open reality
Blind before closed doors
Engerel walks groping for the walls, tottering
Though in endless tunnels he has fallen
Felt them cold and dark
Hands bound behind his back
Eyes folded before the abyss
Rocks never cease to fall
No sound of discovery
For they fall eternally
Rain has wetted my hair
Wind has broken my bones
Now I walk along the treacherous halls of a doorless labyrinth
That which we all know but which no one escapes from
He has beaten again and again
Against walls of hollow rock and empty stone
And couldn’t get out, for he couldn’t fly away
Our feathers have dried by the wind’s draught
I no longer want to wake up tomorrow in the middle of the naught

Lummia's Farewell to Alanvel

You shine by yourself
Do not waste your brightness
Spare no colour
Like an eagle, noble and strong
You fly across deserted fields
Solitary, perhaps
Your wings made of white plumes
Soft as the silk of the morning hummingbird
Like petals of a rose plucked by the wind
You shine with own intensity, you wave with blue omen
Sublime clarity amidst shadows
You shall observe from high above following your destiny
Marked by the light of the sky, far away from this world
High and higher, Traveler of Time
There is a singular trail of hope
Weaving into purple edges
A restless pupil watching over the dawning of the world
Over an ill place there is a golden look, warmly spying
Radiant over the dome of firmament
Witness to those called Overlords
Do not waste wisdom
For if you do, you alone shall fade away into the cold darkness of the night
Today, Lanserel has cried of envy because your eyes have again opened
And its light has been overshadowed by the pearls of your tears

After the war

All these brave men have lost their lives
They’ve lost their most precious possession
Will the future recall their faces?
Their lives, families and dreams?
Or will they just be forgotten like the wind forgets about the sand it drags away?
I still look at their faces and smell the battlefield
Around what once were their lives
A horde of warriors will follow us wherever we go
We know what we’re facing
He who stands alone, a legion will chase him
Respect has been lost in his hands
Now they’ve ignited the flame

Tale around the flame

In Liril, the elder stands on the Hill of Gorth
He watches the abyss that separates him from his vision
The fresh wind blows and takes with it its passion
The force of the wind that once dreamt to be
The air of heights mingles with the light of the stars
He wished to jump into the void and become the leaves and the light over the sea
Jumped on the crowns of the tallest trees
Tremble in the crystal cradle
His thought flows like a reflex upon the Lakes of Edsaleth
And in the Ingeld Hills
Projector of rays over the sky
There he created the rainbow from dew falling, dressed in shining sparks
Of white light over the trees
And the rain spilt from its silver fingers
One eye opened
The ocean’s surface laughed with pearls
Lonely as a sweet melody over the world
That began nowhere
In the mountains of white
The petals of red roses fell over the hall of herbs
White and brilliant horses on shining tails
Velvet furs and pink pollen
The White Steeds of Lornedel opened their wings of silver
Golden feathers released the singing of heights
The waters flew and the winds moved the honey of the bees
His heart chromed the trees over the cradle of Joven River, the Beautiful River
Sculpting rounded stones
Seagulls crowned his head and the hummingbirds played with the nectars
A pink snow over Gelend
The blue rain had changed, but it was the same anyway
Everything he saw from up high, from the clouds of clarity
Then he returned to his hill to wait for another dream

And the Epsigor spoke

Before the Sons of Crolin
Came Anil, the one of the Northern Winds
With his long ashen hair and oceanic eyes
No one had seen them before
They were beautiful
Corbon was a witness
And they were born of the self-same bowels of fire and light
When the Brotherhood gathered at Faerel’s Site
A secret meeting began among the Guardians
Around the Fires of Urul
There has never been such power over Ishnar
Erluk and Jar have been its Entailers
And are now enshrouded by the Flames of Lorr
The most precious dwelling under all clouds of Summod
Even long before Erluk and Jar arrived others
Lagarel. Vigiamon. Erwish and others
They too brought part of the Fires of Urul
Which once were of Faerel, the Red Lord, Patron of All Our Worlds
Destiny of Liador, Future of the Guardians of Faerel
Inscribed in the Ferrous Flames
In the Heats of Numm the Donour
Ailar was wife to Numm
Lady of the Ferrous Creatures
Passed away in the arms of Faerel
But Numm killed Faerel
Who descended to Havenor, the House of the Cursed, Fountain of Larr
His sword of Mannen silenced with his voice
His body was dragged by the current, still with life
But Numm created the Stones of Light
Where then at Imnavel was born the Virgin Hill
Numm brought the Stones of Light from the Afgards of Doressmel
And highly resembled the Seven Emnirs
However, for this reason, the Offspring of Summod banished Numm from Liador
Brought from the North, from the Lands of the Dawn
But Faerel blasphemed with Arash, from the Dark Throne of Havenor
By that time King of the Hidden Dominion
As terrible as his black claws
Faerel delivered his secrets to Arash and the Disciples of Fogor
The wickedest of the Dark Ancestors
That attacked against Ailar
And Fogor flew over with his winged creatures the Virgin Hill
Annihilating everything in its wake
Arash entered Lurwillor for the first time
To rejoice in the agony of the Old Warriors
From then on, the custodies have decided to avenge such destruction
Removing his name Faerel
That is why the Destiny of Liador is found in the Ferrous Flames
Survivors to the love of Ailar and Numm
Fogor came back to the Dark Dominion
There, he made a journey to the Gates of Elkon of Petrear
Clarr is the anteroom
There, he related the victory of his army
And the Reigning Lords of Petrear placed eyes upon Lurwillor
Having lost the War of the Spheres
Taking revenge upon this region
And took advantage of the devastations suffered by Ailar
And so the Virgin Hill became something else
Yet the trees are not dead
They’re only under the Red Spells of Arash
A flux ran antiquely underneath these virgin lands
The Nectar of Lacaril transported to the roots
Where the White Sap lies, still untouched

Alanvel's request to Midirath

Imposing high in the heavens  and in a place of your own
Your light indicates us the path and the same light indicates the route to me
In the darkness of my nights I dedicate my life
Surrounded by past stories offered to my heart
No story do I elude from and all of them I hear
Because they give me life and hope in this world
Midirath Mother of Derehlar, Wife of Crolin the Golden
The one we all seek, the one who through the dark gives light
It is you her principle of life
From you she will descend and of you she will speak in melodious chants
She will be as you are
And I will take care of her more than my own life
Because my life is already guaranteed
You, the Mistress of the Night, exiled her from your White Reign
To you we shall return and to you we shall forever come back
And we shall not be alone
Pray you, continue pouring silk over the sky
I can only wait
Whilst you keep on showing your ivory pupils upon this world

The Queen of Ahmoen

Exhale into the air your fragrance, for it shall keep me alive
Two worlds must often separate with purposes that go beyond their lives
To live separated by the mandate of a futile intention
Away from what love has united
For what we have wished I reveal to the cry of the heart
My plenitude is to chase desires
Leaving me aside from the empty clamour of the voice
The departure disheartens me, yet time doesn’t prove my conscience
When he, in the silence of the night, arrived
Floating above the cities and scrutinising the dwellings with his eyes
Seeing them suspended in the wings of dreams
The town submitted to a foreign dream
When Ahmoen sank below the horizon
And the world darkened like a black pearl
He walked slowly among the houses taking care not to touch anything
Until he reached a palace
He imperturbably penetrated through the padlocked door
And he found me, where I stopped before him
I kissed his brow and the eyes of the Sleepy opened
Take a fistful of my heart of gold
And take the substance of my rays
Accept my love, for you are the hope of my dreams
I’ve called upon you many times but you didn’t come
I’ve sought you but you escaped me
I’ve called but you didn’t listen
Now you do
Embrace my breath, Beloved’ I said
And he passed his hand on my tremulous lips
Taking with him the reality and keeping it underneath him
During the long journey, upon his return he turned to me and whispered
That only those who had sought him shall return to his face

Fragments of Dartalos, Grenn and Vigarth

The bonfires will burn in a whisper of completion
And the bloodied skeletons will rise on wooden stakes
The smell of incineration of the bodies
Through the black blood of the night
In the Night of the Sinking
Prepare to face all the things that will fall from Clarr
We will perish as many others have done
Many of civilizations have succumbed
As well as many rulers have fallen
Corrupted devotions and false adorations shall come
And inexistent signs shall take over the Lordships
And shall manipulate them for merciless destruction
False sages, impostor warriors
In the hands of Petrear shall lie our end
The fall is the power of the dome among the Creatures of Furd
That we have never seen before
The winds of bones shall nail to the hearts
Before the first dagger thrust into the bowels
The Black Sword shall force our blood out
Then the stream shall sing laments of ire
Many have not seen it coming but have died at the stake
Once again the lava and the fire shall flow and burn even the sky
Kodd! Mirn! Wancor! Go now
At Lurwillor there’s the biggest crack ever opened
Those who from it shall arrive are not welcome
In the flesh shall dwell and engender the new Furd
Lud of Eslar, Tronn and Kombur, Lords of Twilight
Have already described in Ishnar the tragedy of our Western Kingdoms


Insurmountable bright steel of cutting blade, perfect work
Irredeemable Instrument of war that crowns my hands
The glow cuts my fears, the handle holds my hands
As my heart moulds pure sound, the metal composing the battles
That many will know and take inside
Many have been the ones who took the last image of its blade
Not in vain, not for pleasure
The Steel of the Aggons of Doressmel, the Blade of the Call
Manifestation of glory in whose shining lives bravery
Of the Hermehr of the War
Blowing of the airs that rag in the dance of the wind
Future presages of who shall see the dark future in motion
Like a light of our path saving the faithful bearer of the template colds
How many stars have projected on my face!
How many rains have illuminated in the nights
The cold couldn’t, neither the storms or the snow
Asleep on old and hard wood
Of sticky and liquid mud, on rocks and meadows
Over strange lands and arid sands
Free is the silver veil of the face that lives beside me
When again I unsheathe we shall be together again

The Lamons' Chants

You have dreamt still when your hands walked with your feet
It is an intimate power rooted deeply in your feeling
Overcoming every obstacle
For it is strong and pure and sublime
We see a vision eulogising by your side
And it is a vision of grandiloquence
This example will be the honey of a dream
The impulse of your magnificence is what is called to jubilation
And it is inside of you
All your being wears aurous crowns that dance
Beside the White Kingdom of Ahmoen
Whose Queen is Midirath
The Lady of Lights
We have enough faith so that what you wish for
Enlightens in the Flame of Ishnar
They may deny the words, but not the knowledge
You will do good deeds and will be a good example
For you possess something revealed in your eyes
Which influences us

To Felgarf the Beautiful

Felgarf has died, Felgarf the Beautiful, suffered all our vices
In her pure interior she couldn’t resist our fury
Of us, who walk upon Ishnar
She perished where the willow receives heaven’s light
Felgarf had no age and died without growing
Felgarf the Beautiful has paid the price of what we’ve done
And she is still now paying underneath the willow’s roots
Even when we will have all perished
Her nobility was such that her will has wanted this
Giving birth to this beautiful tree so that words reaches her
After all, Felgarf the Epsigor feels what we all do
Solitude she soothes when listening to us, solitude is calmed harkening to her
We share the hopelessness that razed her feet
Concealing her to abyss, because we resemble that

Our Music

Our music is our blood, what the ancient have written
And have departed to battle, such as today and yesterday
Elevating victorious over our lives, pure from the hearts
The music which illuminates the paths speaks in choirs of great deeds
Proving the steel, beyond time
Where they dwell in the solemn
The warriors and the lands that cry out
Pure and simple, where the glory of unique heart lies
The ancestors have heard it and shall hear it with blood and bones
In the sap most rooted to the weeds of the woods and lakes
In the fused voice of the mountains of our realm
When whereby the common land they walk, the music of the trees shall play
When an Eriss narrate the past, our melody shall be heard from the stars
From the bottom of cold valleys of snow and green balsams
It lives today by our side, when a light shines in the sky
When fables incarnate our reality
Extols and praises our lands, in which it rocked for the first time
When the fire burned after the ice
We have longed for the wilderness of our nation
In a river that is our blood
After thunder, came the blade that is still utilised
By the weapons forged in lightning
In their thorns they carry the root of our civilization
After thunder came sleep
Polished in the same cauldrons of the storm
With the rain descended the first sigh that ignited the flames
And screamed in the dark to break the silence
Then, in the throats of the first born children
And with the oceans their eyes elevated above all stars
Lodging in the mouths of who today claim with fists and swords
Who have always bowed to devotion
Like a King of Kings, aged like Summod
That from the firmament came with rings and feathers flying around him
His smile, our joy and his sadness, our melancholy
His ire is ours and his love, our life

Lidd Aur Dalith

Elevating like a bridge
Ulterior lights of procession
Ascending in the night
And dancing upon fulgurations
In the sparkles
The feet immense on the fire
Hands on the clouds
Whilst the string trembles
And our bodies merge

Dark words on stones

In the moss they inhabit, silently they walk among embers
Mishaps reticent to leaking water
They seep through the cracks like lacerated meat
Like animals on the roads
Living bones of dusk, lifeless
Venag Er Stolimb sukud An Alvar Des Domb
Go to Kugrur with fangs ripping the veins
On the blades that suck blood and exude venom
Traces of a conflagration extinguished with Asdur’s death
Caves of inner dread, Eyes of the Depths, Horns of Abyss
Winged in moss and birds among thorns
A legion engendered in the seed
The Ninth Advent
Massacred throughout times
They have been reaped by the Six Farmers
The Hidden Solid has seen spilling the crown
Of those Atrocious Winged Ones that have drowned in the Sea Without Horizon
And, transformed, have torn their parents’ arms
In the Empire of the Hills and the Three Walls they have drained our lives
Staining the Elgennor, the land of our buried bodies
Dark Symbol of a cold pride
Venag Er Nimbath Tummen Orid Anganer
Is to arise in power, whose hand shall be hidden
For those that are among darkness, worthy of the Kingdom of Algar
From the Abyss they shall rise, harking to the truth of what shall come
To repeat the fable of those who haven’t died
Thevan Naem Osgorid


Beyond the distant horizons of dawn, near the ancestral Immon
Spread the Lands of Amunyl, where many dance
Place of thick cold and black fog
A castle on the hill by the sea
Signs of an endless night have marked the Kings of the Aldurs
Corpses ferment in the Cradle of the Dead
Erir, King of the Aldurs, the Lords of Uncertainty
The legend spoke following Anwur Star of Dawn
High, fires, thunder, shadows on the roads and lightning in the clouds
Lights from the cracks on walls, in the roar of the storm
Rough tone of voice. Breath of stone
Under the thicket of trees, the lands turned dark
Father of Monstrosities, returned among the pit of the dead
The Anwur Star of Dawn darkened
The cries of a deep silence wound the tales
Mentors of Amunyl, from the seas beyond
Sortilege of identities that stands as shadows over the walls
The faces of the night prowling around
Into black has the light turned from the blades of desperation
Erir, and the Seers of Thul’s Downfall, invoke in the halls
The mighty fury of the Monstrosities
Now the eyes have changed and the will of the Aldurs Lords has triumphed
One more dance to dance at Amunyl
Then came Denam and Wedar with him, who beheld destruction
Their hatred saw beyond the tangible
For lives, the Lands of Amunyl rocked on the Cradle of the Dead
Denam lost his child Ican, whom Death saw dancing before Erir and the Aldurs
Wedar, brother of Ican, followed him
And all those who awakened his wrath remained underground
And those who dared face him
They feed the scoundrels
Poor and small infected beings, of flame and blood
Spilt over the ruins of misery
As the Darkness of Orlon remains and prevails
Sign of martyrdom, spindly scrawny dead shall awake from somnolence
Behold. Denam shall come and reign with the laughter of lifetime agony
Behold the children, the destruction
Towns fallen into the flames. Devastate peace
Walking dead. Aldurs
In the fields, panic takes over slaves
Children of the suffering ones, voices of lament
Existence turned into abomination
The blade bathed the sea in blood, with moans of grief
The end has approached Amunyl and dust has spread in the wind
They fought till bleeding. The pain was later inexistent
Erir and the Seers of Thul’s Downfall died by Denam’s hands
Wedar perished at Amunyl and the Masters delivered traces of their wake
Whips erasing from the face of all worlds
The uncertainty along with the headstones
The Unforgivable. The Blame of Erir
Along with the Monstrosities he was knocked down and devastated
The trace of energy expanded
They gave Denam the victory, the vengeance of Ican and Wedar

Herbak's calling

Those lifeless, with the unlimited powers of the Elgennor
Pacts of the ancient extinction made with the Hidden
Incredibly old dogmas sending out dark energies
Desire for annihilation and devastation
The alliances have been fulfilled, repudiated misfortunes from the South
Powers of destruction and unions linked to doom
There is not enough force, there shall be no future
Another world is born, the gestation is being carried out
Collapsing mind and body
The creatures sublimate themselves, destroy their own lives
Time cracks in a final fatal outbreak
Never before has such power emerged
Everything linked to existence is devastated, ruined, desolated
Key to a forgotten world
The influence invades and dominates with inconceivable reach
The effects following in its wake are forever engraved in time
Our ideas were brutally suppressed beyond understanding
Marked by a dense future
They did not comprehend. Shock. Death. Reigning
Insane evidence of massacre the sober could not contain
Traitors who blind our world
Thick tears have spilt over the world’s lodges
Miserable laments, scattered innocence
Screams of loathsome mercy, all the stones’ pain
Of a world incinerated by the flames
They did not know how to listen to the redemptions of a tragic vision
Dragged to abyss, the idols shall fall and images shall succumb
There is no road, they haven’t been able to vanquish
All those who roam around the ruins are trapped
An imaginary emanation awakes
Ishnar is but one more pebble in our empire
That which belongs to ancestral fire
On the peaks rests the victorious throne
Everything I observe, by my fists
The Owners of Death
The reign gestates in its womb a growing outrage
Here starts an alliance; here the fields of death begin
The dead shall rot beneath them
Thrusting the corpses once and again
The leaders shall not listen, but the shrieks shall reach their ears
The drowning of a dominated land corroded by serpents of light

The Lament of Asibel

Ena lan Erth irue emerin Algar nemuth
Emerin Ior Ash Angiran alneth
Eil Dar Ior Rehn Eleth Sisar veleth
Wallinar Edlenan Adrish Midien Neslin
Dianur Varelan
Ena lan Ereth emerin lon Haralen histheth
Gisaggen Arar Ior Edaman ashnenar
Jurg Ianur Hermehrianin
Gisagen Ara Er Larathiman krie a Er il Thril irue
Eam Er od lanam Akerar hase
Om lan ender Iwind
Emane Minen eam Halduen Neden threthar


Lo, there! The Great One who has defeated Death
Who has elevated in memory of his bravery
In battle he has been gloriously venerated by many
Epitome of all virtues, dignity creator of illusions
Majesty of eloquence
Lo there! The Grown One who has come from high above
Today we remember his name
Jurg, King of Hermehrian
Today I summon your intelligence so that you show yourself in the light
And ride by the side of the warriors
Towards the endless dwelling
Where dread and darkness have never existed”

Alanvel's Dream

Like the mist in the sand and the heat in the ice
Flower, rock and water of the morning
Algae and weeds, a thought of the clouds
Which incubate the body with the sky of blue dreams
Who dreams, flying on silks over the green meadow
Over the white of the snow, of tulle and gauze
Over the flora you have shed a tear
A night dancer, forever alive
You shall wander throughout the times
You shall sail as far as the northern lighthouses
Older, farther away, the mightiest
There you shall see me, waiting for you as on the first day
You, who swim in cotton lakes, the cold will soon weep
And you will have to distance yourself from it towards the whirlwinds in the air
I see you, again travelling to other lights
And returning to your deep dream
The night arrives and an arduous bustle has exhausted you
Over the firewood the fire vibrates white, grey and red
I feel the warmth of your presence and music without origin
Let me lay you down on my chest and caress your hair at night
And blind myself with the fever of your eyes
Perhaps you can show a refuge for this loner
Carrying roads and battles also upon shades of ancestry and splendour
In me, alive, before the pain, in you
The candles carry me to your illusion
I rocked my wings so as to free myself from the power beyond the chains
I can hear hammers falling and steel rings notching the fountain
Yet you are everything, you are more, the hope of dawn
I know at night I shall find you
In the dark arrival of the early morning
Over the dreams that cover my hands and up the trees
As far as the hills, in the humidity of the earth
But they do so for you
You are martial in your charm
The bows of the mountains reach your life watering it with perfumes
And the larks over your dress
It is transcendent, your dream
Courage and life of those who never surrender
I am the sharp blade of a world that battles over the edge of an abyss
Yet in you, life provides a new destiny
It is no convenient to wake up now
The nightmare that awaits me
It is a reality that hurts deeply and for this reason I need to sleep by your side
Wrapped in sheets of rain leaves
We shall rise victorious towards the kingdom that waits for us
Its opened gates of gold and towers of silver
In it, you shall commemorate our day, when I wake up in our land
Where the glory shall laugh with us to inebriate ourselves in the cold
By the winds crossing the oceans
They will dance around the fire which reigned beyond time
In grapevines and bunches of light
The birds will travel and the threads will unleash
Into new tides, new shores and new gravels
You shall yoke the steed of the Illustrious
And I shall forever look for you in the rays up high
In the pearls of the wet soil and in the plumes of the air
Between my fingers, a kiss falls before me
And I shall grab it in the air and keep it inside of me
I will lull my fears to sleep impaling my worries
I shall run towards you because I am no longer myself, I am you now
We shall escape and elevate ourselves in the dawn
When the smokes will have diminished and the images long gone
We shall go back
For upon death I shall place the petals on your eyes


Pain is daily
There can be no war when we were given peace
Not even life, even our most precious gift has been seized
Spitting on the faces of the Overlords
They live to murder when many fight to live
The mighty one on his throne delights himself with other people’s pain
He is well known
Past times have already left in oblivion and glory
Nothing shall be like it once was
War and desolation, loss of races, nothing is new
Misery has been born and come to stay
But it is the misery of mortals
And it is because of that misery that we will be buried
What is to come now is lethargy and stupor
We will never understand
They will change their names and faces, but they will all resemble in their power
Power has corrupted men and will continue to do so
There is nothing we can do but fight for those who stay by our side

Noble Blood

Of Kings and Empires of the North
Far from Imnavel, where words exist not
Where memory is dead
Seeds of archaic blood of Nobles and Lords
Alliances of forces stronger than death
All our lives were glory for the battle
With the wisdom of our ancestors
For they are in battle tonight by our side
Of immortal Kings and oaths to the Solemn Monarchs
An Empire with a Golden Throne
Now the world shall learn of the power of this caste
A caste forged in their hearts
Survivors of the times stood up with swords
With the might of thunder conceived in fire
Stone and metal, proud of their lineage
Of their descendants only a few remain today
On the simple bed of majesty
Crowned by the honesty of ancestral warriors
The Lords of Swords
Now resounding in songs about us

The Prince

Athron, old King, do you not see that your son is Prince already?
You still remember when you held him with trembling arms
Up high in the light of the sky he knew you will never be apart
And still you do it amidst your yearnings
His crying irritated your nerves
Do you remember? His tiny smile soothed your chest
Whenever you gazed upon your first-born child sleeping in his bed
Joy and ignorance met to mingle in your smile
Recall his gaze, directed toward the eyes as something amazing
When you thought about the things he could have been imagining of you
Would he know the feeling you keep in your chest?
You have brought him up with respect and humility
Today you see him gaining victory, exalt him on laurels of dreams
Thus, as in times past you weaved the future full of virtue
Those he shall bring to the world
For you are not mistaken, Old Athron
He shall be a true Hermehr
Now corruption had changed its face
But it is the same with which you fought in the past
Now, your task has switched hands, your dream has flourished again
The longed for kingdom, the nation of hope
They’ve been born in those tiny hands which were rocked and lulled in the cradle
The big family of siblings with whom you’ve traversed the roads
Is igniting anew in the bright eyes of your son
Look into them and you shall see it for yourself
You will see that your future has lighted in him the flame of destiny
They will guide your offspring to the gates of victory
That with which you’ve lived, that which you’ve instilled in him
Do you remember the fuzz on his little head?
It is the golden symbol which life bestows upon the humble-hearted
He has looked at you several times, King
And you have looked at him and a tear have rolled down your cheeks
He, in some way, knows it and laughs at it
And now, when your hairs have turned into snow
When aches afflict your body
You find yourself before him and nothing has changed
He’s still that boy to whom you gave drink in your arms
He whom you thought to be your life
Has your resemblance, even your very same feet and nose
Yet nothing has changed
Again he looked at you as in the past
And your times merged in that moment
Feelings came from them and nestled in your chest
And time has entirely summarised at this moment
Look at you now, you are King of Hermehrian
As in the past you’ve cried for what he means to you
For what you’ve lived to watch him grow
And for what you’ve sacrificed for to see him become a good being
And as in the past, he knows it and has laughed
With the only difference that he has too shed a tear
Nothing will prevent it
Nor death nor time shall wipe the trace you’ve left
Your own blood shall go on till the end

Gesnerin awaits

No one knew of his destiny and for long moments we waited
Two worlds collided with murmurs of thunder
Two forces annihilated at the dome in the sky
The downpour would not relinquish
We followed the Prince to the end of the world
And had found him And we know we would follow him to death itself
And beyond too, but we didn’t know of his fate
We began to shout and our eyes elevated to the sky
We ran around all walls looking for the Son of Athron
We were wondering whether he had freed the peoples
Or whether the oppression of Kromm would still be reigning
We didn’t know, yet our heads wouldn’t lower
Silence owned our words and we could do nothing but wait
We looked at each other with fixed and hard looks
In just seconds the fate of the world would be defined
In just seconds the future would turn dark or clear
Our hearts were pounding harder and harder, our swords held no meaning now
They didn’t if the Prince would not appear over the wall
It is him who leads this army
Suddenly, shadows played in the heights
Then a head stood out
Thereafter, a decapitated body precipitated over Aridor’s gates
We were thunderstruck and dazzled
Over the exterior wall appeared Alanvel
And we shouted with all our strengths
We knew that the peoples were free now
Then Alanvel, Son of Athron, fainted on the floor up high

Velanin-Poem from Ahmoen

Through the Sea of the Medds in the White Land
Has been created this Crystal Crown
As an offering from the Lady to whom today
Shall wed by the customs of Ahmoen
The White Kingdom is also part of you
Gitten, the Garden of Dreams
Alux, the Forest of Light
Lors, the Meadow of Firs
Eldren, the Greenwoods of Pines
Andrith, the Lake of Dreams
Nod, the Crystal Waters
Drul, the Tree of Wishes
Alarim, the Valley of Illusion
Crystal Lands of Merven and Turus
From where the Irgils come
Where Lesdald shines, the Fountain of Light
Where Krin is born, the King of Steeds
Where Ewthin runs, the Fast One of the Brave Ones
In the Mountains of Mirr
Beyond the White Stars
Midirath the Queen Wife of Crolin
Sends you the Kril
The Crystal Crown
As a gift of her love
And as the bearer of the Krildal
The Essence of the Icades of Ahmoen

Icades singing

Dindal Velvet of the Night on her hair of silk
So brilliant and docile like pearls in the sea scattered all over her face
On her forehead, Enir is the Amber Sky of the Afternoon and the light of distances
Amongst silver clouds and golden stars
In her eyes Elilad and Elimian are dancing
Like Dusks of Horizon, Precious Stones
Like Carved Gems, all gleaming with white dewdrops
Over the diadems of her look extol the diamonds of her kindness
Erenmil, pure like Andrith fountainhead
Ithan, the Honey of the Nectar on her mouth
Limpid like molasses in the morning
Crystalline and bright like the sweet of the love of her dreams
Beyond the grief of darkness
Dwells the sweetness of transparencies
As Ifrid, who crowns the Scent of Jasmine sprinkled on her skin
Like a balsam of great freshness
Like the mystical incense which stems from time
Amidst the dunes of the sunsets which are domes in the sky
In her Aslaeth blood, Sap of the Forests of her translucent heart
And the smooth nectar of her arms
And on her breasts sets Edian like Fruit of the Meadows
Green under the light of the sky, under crystal spheres
Duminael is the Red Rose in her womb
Like the Essence of the Oceans which bathe the world
Like the Melodies of the Seas and the beauty which bears the flame
In honour, glorified
Her hands are Edelin of the Stars of Dawn
Caressing the softness of heights
Spraying the dew of the freshness of weeds
Of the cold of plants and of frozen trees
With the purity of a fresh scent of mint
Lindaer Cotton of Silk between her legs
The perfect weave
Thus, she will travel across the horizons
For in her we see the future

Song of Midirath

Nam Ath Laem Fes Dethi
Nam Ath Fith Minum Lehi
Lehs Arin Lahl Hanni Varath
Aumm Aim Lath Namath
Henim Fidd Miath Lar
Henim Nith Omin Naim Aam
Laith Mis Laith Mis Thar
Sil Nimmin Oim Aunil Ehil Laimoiath
Alanvel Erenmil

"On your wings the flower of love have set
In your eyes it can be seen
Like two birds wandering through the firmament
Full of light of life
May no one whither that flower
Nor take the wind to the flame of hope
For the night shall come like blind men in the abyss
And only the other’s hand shall guide you
Alanvel, Erenmil"

Herish the Sower

The untamed Sower of the steppes, wolf of the woods
The one who forged the cork oak trees
Cold as night, quiet as the Northern sky
He who possesses the keys to horizon
Like a distant stretch of land
Frozen like the fall of day which underneath the roots it numbs
Of mildew and darkness, of tranquillity and time
With his plough of fire he marked the furrows of the woods
And inundated with bastions of lights the threads of the forests
And bathed with nocturnal water the sap of the trunks
Over the dome of mountains and over the hillocks
Over the grey rocks and hills parched by wind
The Sower laughs, the Sower walks
Herish lingers at the summit with his plough of radiant brightness
Wrapped in mantles of fog and surrounded by solitude and distance
Immersed in the coldest clearings
Advancing amidst the mists he arrives with his hand of stone
The one who has raised Blummen, who has raised victory
Where some died and some were reborn
Turned into dust and leave, transformed in twigs and rock
Dressed now in rain and decorated with snow
Who let the land grow from the sky
Who watered the plateaus with plants and calm, tearing the silk of the morning
He who was the runner of the stems in the Land of Blummen
His name is truth and his hand rises over the fields
Infested with weeds and extensive in fields of honey
The farming of the ancestor of time
The architect of the common land and of the golden vineyards
In meadows of silver and flakes of snowy cotton
He raised his eyes and the meadow was born amidst the white seeds of the sky
His breath rocked the first stem of this region and gave birth to fortune
Herish the Sower and his wife Lib
The water who gave drink to their children, the nectar of flowers
The pollen floating in the air
Both ascended to the top of the mountains
Where they dwell by the lights which can be seen from below
Like lighthouses of time shimmering in the mountainsides
And candles of the forests enlightening the summits up high

The Heraths of the King

Here he is, the King of Hermehrian
Dead by the Despot of the East
Athron has been sublime in life and in death
We shall all pay homage to him until our breaths go away
We shall remember Athron as our friend
And shall accompany his son to the East, to avenge this loss
Farewell, old warrior
We shall soon meet again
Be sure we shall avenge your death
And till the last guilty criminal shall pay
At last, we shall tell you all that we couldn’t do
And give you everything we couldn’t give you
You will have to forgive us
Now we salute you with pain and pride
You have reigned nobly and now we shall follow your path
Until dawn finds us again

Gadaminesh-Fragments of Derehlar's Collection II

When they still played the Flutes of Urth
The Spring of the Elden fell over the Rocks of Angerth
Which at Siben they’re called Esseod
For they were created long before the Dawn of the Strong
The Walain, who were born in the West
In the Plain of Snow formerly called Nedeleth
But which the White Race of Teoth called Rindel
They were defrosted by the heat and formed beautiful rivers of silver
Adnesh was the longest of all, for it is born in Ush and dies in Leme
Bordering the Lands of Sand
When the strings were still twinkling and rocked the water of the streams
There danced the lakes and fell balls of cotton over the trees
Blowing the wind over the Ageing Trees
It was said that Noth had planted them with the sweat of his brow
There, the Awanah would sing and the almond trees would ramble
Along the brooks near the honeysuckles
Floated amidst the small stones between the Oak of gold and the Roses of Silver
There fell the mountains over the cliffs
And the sky mingled with the Sea
Its light and breeze made love where the grass approached fearfully
To the Deserted Shores
“Nuin” they were called by the Walain
When the storm came from the East and the wind increased
Encountered the Ancient Walain and the Theoths
They decided to hold the Adars, Bringers of Bewilderment
Awarled and Vindorin were with the Six of Endur
Sons of the Afgards of Nield
Awarled was Mentor of the Dusk and Vindorin travelled along the Purple Sea
Beyond the Ports of Onamel
Of an eternal blast the stars faded away
The ocean stood still and there was no movement whatsoever
The waters hushed and the light died
Something occurred later, for the flutes stopped playing
And the land turned rough and despicable
The sky brought mantles of stubbornness over thirsty dry lands
There was cold and stillness
And more cold until Arled descended
The Cold, Which In the Heights Dwells, Kings of the Forces of Almendor
It was said that it dwells over the Opposite Side: the Shadow of Endur
Where the Imperceptible State is met: a Great Dark Solitude
The structures brought new movements never before known
They disordered what had been established and changed the roads
Therefore the birds trilled no more
Therefore the Eagle of War awoke
In the White Mirmi Mountains it rose in Lesda, the Dome of Snow
Spreading its wings to the high winds
From Lesda, the highest mountain of Ildir Valley
But also descended the Hosts of Dorr
Dignataries of the Dispossessed and so faced the Navy of the Walain
Which was called Namair, the Weapon of the Strong
On the battlefield they awaited for Mirmi to find the Leave of Gold
The Trophy of War which from Lesda was taken to Niemen
Where it was watered by the Pure Waters, Silver Waters
A high-pitched shout shrieked across valleys with the voice of the same battle
It rose over the Ancient Peoples assimilated as the Memory of the Ancestors
And that little is known of this, more than what now is heard
In Hur, such was the name of the Battlefield, lightning was born
And the night lasted thousands nights and thousands days
And the storm worsened from the Four Columns
The Grey Column of Oded, the Blue Column of Sesh
The Black Column of Nidd and the Red Column of the Artaers
Lights were lit in the sky like lighthouses and then the Horn
“Hur” was called the Field of the Dead
Edreth, where the Lost Ones governed the Shadows
For myriads died there until one warrior lifted his arm
And the Claw of Silver was seen fully in the light, shining silver over the grey sky
Daughter of Mirmi, was made by the Faer, enemies of Arled of times past
In the Cauldrons of the Walain
It was the Power of War and the Flame of Victory
The Offering of the Triumph was Aduil
The Force of Destruction, Weapon of the Mighty, Kings of Old
Mirmi gave birth from her womb, moulded in the blood of the height
Born in the Stones of Lesda and hardened in the waters of the Adnesh
The Claw of War went down in history until that day
Hiding in the East, then in the North, where its track was lost
Until the Ancient Walain and the Teoths showed it again
It was found by Aden, a soldier, and taken to Urmin where it remained
Lirr, King of the Walain in those times, kept it in the City of Steel, Edron
The banner was lifted in the Dawn Fortress, embedded in the depths
Edron fell before the Adars in the War of the Stones
Aulen, where the rocks cover the soil, beyond Uhl
Arled triumphed that day at Hur
And the Walain showed a power they couldn’t handle
They all perished in battle and with them Awarled and Vindorin
Arled found the body of Awarled and saw it possessed the same glove as his
And the same horn too, thereupon he learnt they had the same father
For when the Aggons arrived, the Races of Ishnar were born
Amongst them the Walain and Adars, with long bodies and grey-haired
They both spoke Sefer tongue
It was in the Second Era where the trees were not yet old
Sons descendants of Reod
Son of Pridiar and the Epsigor Almil of the Waters of Mien
The Walain populated the mountains, the Adars the rivers
When the world was young and the light barely knew the horizon
And the wind for the first time inhaled
But under the night were born other things which were not children of light
Born of mud and water whilst the day turned to darkness
In Mien, the waters deviated to create the Black Lakes
There were born other Peoples which memory do not remember
Nor words can describe
Unknown Forces grew sometimes with form and shape
Among them, Essel, who assailed the regions with terror
Reod went to face him and won
Essel, agonizing, bit one of his legs when the sword thrust his mouth.
Reod returned but he was not the same
His eyes were grey and then turned to black and on his smile inhabited horror
He raised his weapons and devastated the Land of Mien
He battled against his mother Almil and his father Pridiar
He imprisoned her and banished him
In might he grew
Being at Lesda he gathered armies to march and sweep the West
He lifted his sword which he called Trum, Stillness of the East
And the armies cried out in the night under the lights of the fires
But a bird appeared in the horizon
And stuck its claw in Reod’s neck, who died
And the armies were left without their leader
Mirmir was the bird, sister of Reod, she avenged her parents, saving the region
She commanded the armies of Reod to a great precipice
Where Ahner Volcano erupted underneath their bodies
Only Niendel survived, the Last Noble of the Adars
Descendant of Almil was Amniel, the Maiden of the Walain
But Aurnanmir, descendant of Niendel, captured Amniel and raped her
From them were born Awarled and Arled
Awarled travelled to Mien with Amniel
Arled reigned after the death of Aurnanmir
He rescued the Gift of the Birds encrypted in the Code of Wer
And on their backs grew wings to take revenge against Mirmir
But the Code of Wer had been written in the remote past
When Walain and Adars were brothers
So Arled stayed alert
Successor of the Walain would be a fierce warrior
Who would protect Mirmi from Arled
One with the might of thousands and his name was written as Isam
Who found Mirmi in Lesda but travelled a long way to make it
From Edron he departed, the City of Steel
In Dell he found the Waterfalls of Fire and the Geysers of Bimm
In them, the bubbles boiled at night, with the Pilasters of Flames
Steams in spirals elevated in the wind, howling inside the Caverns of Ice
The Nine Waterfalls of Rode, with their faces carven in the mountain
Amber Desert, where the Fields of Steam rotated around the almonds of Rode
He arrived at the Land of Ice where Lesda elevated
There was a city of ice raised on the summit called Mirmiar
Beyond there was a Lava Lake named Murr
Next to Mirmiar ran the Subterranean Rivers of Sutar and Lein
Behind Lesda spread the Ocean which flows into the mountain





MAX KAHL AUTHOR - Copyright 2017