"It always seemed most curious to me, that the Elarasters have always sworn to peace and have never participated in anything remotely warlike...if in battle, they would be unstoppable, and forever immortalized as heroes, hailed as the great warriors of old reborn." Loc Shallin, "The Elarasters: A Collection of Loc Shallin Works" (Tower-Summit Publications) Printed 852 W.C.
"The spring, the spring! The mountain must not be uncovered! Doom be upon us if we unveil that which must never be brought to light!" (A quote from my 15,000-word document titled "A History of the Elathim")
"Not even the oldest and wisest can remember the tales of days long past, when the dew was heavy and the sun dim and far away. The memory of those days is lost, only preserved in the writings of one man, but he does not enter this tale, and his name is not known." (A History of the Elathim)
Here are also two poems that also pertain to this novel. They're edited for length: the original versions were much longer.
The Curse
Once a dear friend spoke these words to me
While the realm took refuge in the lee:
"One man's folly made the Mist burn
One man's drink will make the curse return."
One man's folly made the mist burn
One man's drink will make the curse return.
Can the lost be found, the low arise?
Can the blind see with different eyes?
Can those who fall be lifted up again?
Can those unclean be made clean men?
One man's folly created a wall
One man's cup sealed our pall.
All is brought to ruin, all has failed
While the voice is in prison jailed
The fell sons of men die and are naught
All this because of one man's draught.
It was one man that started this curse:
It was one man that brought us worse.
The haunted one shall seek a cure
The cursed one will make us pure
The curse is liquid, the cost is blood
But forgiveness shall release the flood.
Two men brought our curses nigh:
Will two men cause the curse to die?
The Day the Voice was Lost
A Wyndian song
from the Hundred-Year Siege
The spring was clear and cold
The mountains tall and old
The man was strong and bold
The day the voice was lost.
Reaches he the water cold
In those mountains dark and old
His spirit to the darkness sold
The day the voice was lost.
Now we stay and count the cost
The day the voice was lost.
What do you think? Good? Better yet, what sort of notions do you gather from this? (*chuckles* I'm feeling rather sadistic - but I think that comes with being a writer. Withholding information is such fun.)
And while I'm at it: what are you all working on? Have anything so epic that you just HAVE to share it?
World-builders forever. ^_^ *fist-bump*
