belthazar spellscry | ch(i)ef tsundere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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exsilium2013-03-25 05:11 pm
arcanepower) wrote in exsilium2013-03-25 05:11 pm
[ the knight and the wall ]
[voice]
Some time ago, someone asked me to share one of my favorite stories. This was an epic poem written in a very dated form of Thalassian. I have translated it, but some of the more poetic nuances have been lost, as is the case with languages. [There's an awkward pause, and then he continues in a tone that sounds slightly humbled:] Since so many of you shared stories with me before... I thought it might... be appropriate.
[He clears his throat, then begins to recite.]
The trees whisper of a time
when Lordaeron was still young,
the elves still fortifying their walls;
when moss still grew on uncarved stones,
and the rivers ran fresh and clear.
A knight was charged with guarding the Well,
the source of our life and our prosperity.
Such a task was a great honor,
but he was unseasoned in battle and lonely,
so he made the walls.
He placed each brick himself,
under no orders but his own.
His work looked insignificant
compared to the sight of the Well,
but the well was sparkling and clear.
The knight began to notice the walls
growing stronger without his hand.
No one volunteered their knowledge,
so he left his post one night and hid,
to see who fortified the walls.
To the knight's great surprise,
he spied a woman with a dress like fog;
she appeared at the side of the Well
to pray, and then to strengthen the wall,
and the sky was bright and clear.
The knight was moved by her kindness
and desired to speak with her,
but she heard him and turned to flee.
He was quicker, and snatched her wrist,
and her voice echoed in the walls.
'Who are you,' she demanded,
'that you hold me so!'
'My lady,' said he, 'I am but a knight
who keeps the Well and builds the walls,
and I see your charity clearly.'
He released her wrist then,
and set another brick into the wall;
the woman knelt beside him, lending her magic
as he lent his raw strength,
and together, they built a great wall.
Though she was a priestess and he,
a knight, they made many walls.
A great palace was constructed,
walls of light housing a greater light,
and the rivers ran fresh and clear.
It was not their birth that dictated
what greatness they could bring,
for it takes two to make a wall.
They built their tomb together
and rest eternal with hands clasped,
where the rivers run fresh and clear.
Some time ago, someone asked me to share one of my favorite stories. This was an epic poem written in a very dated form of Thalassian. I have translated it, but some of the more poetic nuances have been lost, as is the case with languages. [There's an awkward pause, and then he continues in a tone that sounds slightly humbled:] Since so many of you shared stories with me before... I thought it might... be appropriate.
[He clears his throat, then begins to recite.]
The trees whisper of a time
when Lordaeron was still young,
the elves still fortifying their walls;
when moss still grew on uncarved stones,
and the rivers ran fresh and clear.
A knight was charged with guarding the Well,
the source of our life and our prosperity.
Such a task was a great honor,
but he was unseasoned in battle and lonely,
so he made the walls.
He placed each brick himself,
under no orders but his own.
His work looked insignificant
compared to the sight of the Well,
but the well was sparkling and clear.
The knight began to notice the walls
growing stronger without his hand.
No one volunteered their knowledge,
so he left his post one night and hid,
to see who fortified the walls.
To the knight's great surprise,
he spied a woman with a dress like fog;
she appeared at the side of the Well
to pray, and then to strengthen the wall,
and the sky was bright and clear.
The knight was moved by her kindness
and desired to speak with her,
but she heard him and turned to flee.
He was quicker, and snatched her wrist,
and her voice echoed in the walls.
'Who are you,' she demanded,
'that you hold me so!'
'My lady,' said he, 'I am but a knight
who keeps the Well and builds the walls,
and I see your charity clearly.'
He released her wrist then,
and set another brick into the wall;
the woman knelt beside him, lending her magic
as he lent his raw strength,
and together, they built a great wall.
Though she was a priestess and he,
a knight, they made many walls.
A great palace was constructed,
walls of light housing a greater light,
and the rivers ran fresh and clear.
It was not their birth that dictated
what greatness they could bring,
for it takes two to make a wall.
They built their tomb together
and rest eternal with hands clasped,
where the rivers run fresh and clear.
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