The mysterious elven priestess sits silently on a cold stone
chair within the old chapel on the village green. Her hands crossed in her lap
she looks around her at all the commotion and smiles. Her presence there has
caused quite a stir and as word spreads the villagers flocked to catch a glimpse
of her. The green is bustling with people, jostling one another for position as
they wait eagerly to hear what the priestess has to say with wide eyed looks and
much pointing and staring. Rumour has it that she is to tell them all a story…
The younger ones who have never seen her before let alone heard her speak crowd
in amongst their elders, who even though most know the tale are still struggling
to contain their excitement, for the tale is one that each of them holds deep
within their hearts for it is that of the history of their home and the founding
of Loerdell. The priestess' gaze sweeps over the crowd of onlookers, her large
oval eyes gleaming brightly, reflecting the deep blue of the skies above. Her
smooth face has an ageless look, though some of the older villagers can think
back to a time when they were as the young are this day, sitting with their
elders to listen to her words. Nobody here knows her age but it is said that in
a time now long forgotten, a faerie spirit of the woodland realms cast a charm
upon her to freeze the passage of time. The priestess gestures and the crowd
fall silent. As one they wait in tense anticipation as she begins to sing
softly, her voice painting images in the minds of those gathered before her…
Born from the first age, whilst menfolk warred, There were two, who all adored,
Shines bright through darkest night, A light…of golden love unspoken, Amidst
chaos they went forth, light drawing others, The path they did not know, only to
follow where golden glow did show. On and on their path did lead, Both sang
aloud to the following crowd, Come, come, follow the song, Together as one
though road be long, As one to find our destiny, Ride, Ride, Ride, as one bring
you to our fantasy. They travelled far, by sun moon and star, Where? Oh where,
does the golden light lead us? Deeper…deeper…awaken the sleeper, Awakened the
trees, souls lifted with ease. The sprit in the trees, o' spirit in the trees,
Take us to where we can dwell with no care, Spirit o' the trees, spirit o' the
trees, Clear a place there, for all folk tp share Lead the light to sight most
fair. Loerdell…Loerdell the wind sang, Loerdell sang the trees, Loerdell pain to
ease, They all sang, how fair you are, Lush and green, old world gone far,
They built their homes with song in their heart, For Loerdell was a world apart.
Ages past, and a child came unto the light, Beneath the willow songs of joy,
dancing all night, All felt blessed by this rarest gift, Yet as time passed
there was felt a shift, A feeling of sorrow falls on fair Loerdell, T'was then
that they knew that all was not well, As the child did grow so with it the
dread, Dark heart they had bred whispers were said, The golden light did mourn
their mistake, What is done undone, the choice they did make, Yet evil grown
strong, did fall into madness, Fled out from Loerdell, spreading seeds of
sadness, Spirit o'trees they did cry, oh what have we done, Darkness begun,
golden light shadow did shun.
The trees looked down on those that they kept, Here in their depths, sad the
trees wept, Protect the wind whispered through the trees tears, Make safe from
this darkness, wash away tears and fears, Golden light came unto them then, and
together did weave, Magic of the wood, the tree, bark and leaf, Then Loerdell
they did leave, Golden light gone, No more hear their song, To mend what was
done, Their road would be long. Farewell Loerdell, safe now from harm, Tree's
watching over, under magical charm, The villagers stood as they rode away,
Joined together to pray for a day, When the golden light so fair will return,
When shadow is banished no more evil's yearn. Ages came and went, no sight of
light, Still they held hope firm, and in darkest of night, They come together,
those that were left, To pray for the light, to watch over them still…
With that, the priestess crept silently away, leaving them bewitched by the
tale.
Only after the priestess disappeared once more into the woodlands did the magic
her voice held fade,
the villagers waking as if from a dream to look around at one another with
smiles on their faces and many with a tear in their eye.
An excerpt taken from the First History of Loerdell by Mialen Tinuviel.
