Ma-tek
24-11-2005, 02:49
[OOC: This thread, and all of it's contents, take place approximately six thousand years ago. Approximately ICly speaking. This thread represents the unearthing of historical documents, and thus all of it's contents are widely available and thus ICly known, at least in theory, by all who have the ability to access the Iluvauromeni MESH (which is, of course, linked into various internation and stellar communications networks).]
IC:
The Lament of the Kingdom: Part 1 - Loth-sáralossë
A hundred thousand helms did gleam brightly in the midday sun
And upon their feather'd caps blood sung
Hands wrung in grief but sorrow not
Nor injustice given heed;
Their wrongs named right, and swiftly then forgot
Yet heavy ever does their deed
Hang upon their lot.
Semir-randil, lord of nothing but his own heart, scrabbled aimlessly amongst the thick undergrowth. Yet was it that his heart was his, or yet did belong to another?
"Long dead," muttered he.
Sadly so, but not without determination. "Long dead," said again, "yet mayhap here might I find thee, in small issue, an echo."
What echo did hands as his seek? Of that, here, shall we speak.
Amongst the grass of forgotten fields hands found solace at a small bronze wheel; a wheel of vast fortunes not in the least, but set in splendour one might not with ease forget. A single seal, of royal import, set upon an ebony gem - a gem not of true worth to the man of hammer and fire, but of worth alone to the man whom had heart in the memory of the former owner.
Carefully did these gentle hands let the wheel turn over, hand from hand, fingering it's exquisite form. Carefully made, yet worthless to all but he.
Lips sing a song of sadness upon it's surface, silently. A caress of the past. Tears trickle, dampening cheeks unmoved by fear or feeling.
"Avenged," he whispers, eyes skywards, seeing not the present but an echo of that to come.
And so the wandering, aimless apparent, of the beloved jewel ended for the second time, upon the very field his greatest defeat should soon befall him.
Whispering as he went - although not by tongue or lips - Semir-randil, lord of nothing, found his feet carrying him to the city he had built... and then deserted.
Here, Aelinenya, before him. Singing waters rippled wonderously beneath the touch of fingertips too long dry, and soiled with the toils of the lonely wanderer.
So did the lonely Man come upon the lonely Nenya, bowed and stooped, long brown locks teasing a surface subtle in it's reflection; the water did not bring warning first, for Semir-randil, lord of nothing, felt the creature approach yet long before in his mind.
"Kind sir," greeted the Man, for only of the Nenya's back did he thus far see, and mistook indeed him for another Man; "Kind sir, might I ask thee a moment of thine time? For I am tired and weary, and have travelled long and far. Wherefore is it then that I find not the fabled beauty of Aelinenya, which is said to soothe all ills?"
Still did Semir-randil, lord of nothing, not stir.
"Kind sir," repeated the Man, not quite finding it within his noble heart to find anger at another, "I ask thee a question, yet thy answer not; doth thy find suffering stills thine tongue? Ever was it so for I, and I now find words clumsy upon mine lips. If I then deliver a rudeness by mine tongue, I wish it that thee might find it within thy honour to forgive."
Still did not Semir-randil, lord of nothing, stir.
At this lack of response the noble Man did not find it in his heart, still, to come to anger. We know not his heart as yet, but of a certainty he surely was confused.
And yet, perhaps finding wisdom by the silence of the world - the birds were still, as if this meeting were of value even unto them - the Man sat, with legs finely crossed, and awaited an answer.
Thus did matters stay, for six days and six nights, until finally Semir-randil, lord of nothing, did stir. Nor was it for need of sustenance, for he had not eaten or drank for many years to that day already; long before had he found the lack of need. Yet perhaps his heart was moved by the dedication of the Man, who did indeed need sustenance, and surely was much hungering by then.
And when he did speak, the Man found his voice was as the first taste of honey to the child; the music of wisdom played strongly through him that day indeed, although he knew it not.
"Of beauty thy mind seeks, yet thine heart mislead thee. For beauty is within and without, neither of form nor substance, but of immaterial matter. It is that which finds us in the dark, and leads us from the dryness of the shore to the lightness of the water, and in the journey brightens our heart with gladness."
And thus did the Man gaze upon the water with wonderment, and bow his head sadly. "Surely thine eyes are the eyes of wonder to see it so, and thine mouth the mouth of truth; were it that a teacher thy were to mine heart, so that in all things could I find beauty as thee surely doth."
And as all hearts seek a purpose, Semir-randil, lord of nothing but his heart, did smile wanly. "So shall it be," he answered.
And so was it that the Lament of the Kingdom began, even before the Kingdom was birthed.
[OOC: Final note; Loth-sáralossë is the prophesized future name of the Nenya, declared to be the name they would be called by in days to come by Ahyane, father of Semir-randil, and 'father' of the Nenyar species. This prophecy was dealt with in the thread 'The Murk of the Distant Dark', but I lack a linky to give y'all for that just yet. Will edit this with a relevant link soon.
Loth-sáralossë means 'flower of bitter blossoming', and in the context of this thread, is related to the prophecy but is not the fulfilment of it.
Final, final final note. Use of 'thee', 'thou', 'thy', 'thine', etc, is not intended to be accurate or precise by any stretch of the imagination. Rather it is intended to imply 'high' language; lofty speakers, as it were. Rather like if I were to say to you 'Is it not surperfluous to our need?' rather than saying 'We don't need that, do we?']
IC:
The Lament of the Kingdom: Part 1 - Loth-sáralossë
A hundred thousand helms did gleam brightly in the midday sun
And upon their feather'd caps blood sung
Hands wrung in grief but sorrow not
Nor injustice given heed;
Their wrongs named right, and swiftly then forgot
Yet heavy ever does their deed
Hang upon their lot.
Semir-randil, lord of nothing but his own heart, scrabbled aimlessly amongst the thick undergrowth. Yet was it that his heart was his, or yet did belong to another?
"Long dead," muttered he.
Sadly so, but not without determination. "Long dead," said again, "yet mayhap here might I find thee, in small issue, an echo."
What echo did hands as his seek? Of that, here, shall we speak.
Amongst the grass of forgotten fields hands found solace at a small bronze wheel; a wheel of vast fortunes not in the least, but set in splendour one might not with ease forget. A single seal, of royal import, set upon an ebony gem - a gem not of true worth to the man of hammer and fire, but of worth alone to the man whom had heart in the memory of the former owner.
Carefully did these gentle hands let the wheel turn over, hand from hand, fingering it's exquisite form. Carefully made, yet worthless to all but he.
Lips sing a song of sadness upon it's surface, silently. A caress of the past. Tears trickle, dampening cheeks unmoved by fear or feeling.
"Avenged," he whispers, eyes skywards, seeing not the present but an echo of that to come.
And so the wandering, aimless apparent, of the beloved jewel ended for the second time, upon the very field his greatest defeat should soon befall him.
Whispering as he went - although not by tongue or lips - Semir-randil, lord of nothing, found his feet carrying him to the city he had built... and then deserted.
Here, Aelinenya, before him. Singing waters rippled wonderously beneath the touch of fingertips too long dry, and soiled with the toils of the lonely wanderer.
So did the lonely Man come upon the lonely Nenya, bowed and stooped, long brown locks teasing a surface subtle in it's reflection; the water did not bring warning first, for Semir-randil, lord of nothing, felt the creature approach yet long before in his mind.
"Kind sir," greeted the Man, for only of the Nenya's back did he thus far see, and mistook indeed him for another Man; "Kind sir, might I ask thee a moment of thine time? For I am tired and weary, and have travelled long and far. Wherefore is it then that I find not the fabled beauty of Aelinenya, which is said to soothe all ills?"
Still did Semir-randil, lord of nothing, not stir.
"Kind sir," repeated the Man, not quite finding it within his noble heart to find anger at another, "I ask thee a question, yet thy answer not; doth thy find suffering stills thine tongue? Ever was it so for I, and I now find words clumsy upon mine lips. If I then deliver a rudeness by mine tongue, I wish it that thee might find it within thy honour to forgive."
Still did not Semir-randil, lord of nothing, stir.
At this lack of response the noble Man did not find it in his heart, still, to come to anger. We know not his heart as yet, but of a certainty he surely was confused.
And yet, perhaps finding wisdom by the silence of the world - the birds were still, as if this meeting were of value even unto them - the Man sat, with legs finely crossed, and awaited an answer.
Thus did matters stay, for six days and six nights, until finally Semir-randil, lord of nothing, did stir. Nor was it for need of sustenance, for he had not eaten or drank for many years to that day already; long before had he found the lack of need. Yet perhaps his heart was moved by the dedication of the Man, who did indeed need sustenance, and surely was much hungering by then.
And when he did speak, the Man found his voice was as the first taste of honey to the child; the music of wisdom played strongly through him that day indeed, although he knew it not.
"Of beauty thy mind seeks, yet thine heart mislead thee. For beauty is within and without, neither of form nor substance, but of immaterial matter. It is that which finds us in the dark, and leads us from the dryness of the shore to the lightness of the water, and in the journey brightens our heart with gladness."
And thus did the Man gaze upon the water with wonderment, and bow his head sadly. "Surely thine eyes are the eyes of wonder to see it so, and thine mouth the mouth of truth; were it that a teacher thy were to mine heart, so that in all things could I find beauty as thee surely doth."
And as all hearts seek a purpose, Semir-randil, lord of nothing but his heart, did smile wanly. "So shall it be," he answered.
And so was it that the Lament of the Kingdom began, even before the Kingdom was birthed.
[OOC: Final note; Loth-sáralossë is the prophesized future name of the Nenya, declared to be the name they would be called by in days to come by Ahyane, father of Semir-randil, and 'father' of the Nenyar species. This prophecy was dealt with in the thread 'The Murk of the Distant Dark', but I lack a linky to give y'all for that just yet. Will edit this with a relevant link soon.
Loth-sáralossë means 'flower of bitter blossoming', and in the context of this thread, is related to the prophecy but is not the fulfilment of it.
Final, final final note. Use of 'thee', 'thou', 'thy', 'thine', etc, is not intended to be accurate or precise by any stretch of the imagination. Rather it is intended to imply 'high' language; lofty speakers, as it were. Rather like if I were to say to you 'Is it not surperfluous to our need?' rather than saying 'We don't need that, do we?']