To Stone We Return

[Valannor 6344]

[!] Be aware that none of this is public in-game knowledge.

 

 

 

Spoiler

 

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To struggle with the waves was folly. The waters flowed freely now - what once was a dam, seeking to control the flood, had found enlightenment - that which would control the current became one with it, a choir of voices now singing in harmony upon white shores. Black and gray melted into elvenwhite and azul, the desire to dominate turned to pledge of remediation; that which bore the shore as mantle to augur fate itself, and to right the wrongs of heavens set alight. Empyrean, in its domain. What once was child of stone now borne as the hopes and dreams of once-crowned Lords and men who died far before their time; a stalwart and eternal desire to see blackened waters cleansed of the oily abyss they had become.

 

A memory then dawned upon It, as much fantasy as it once was reality, fact and fiction intertwined in loathsome waltz. It saw the starlit beaches of Its blessed shore - and above it, a canvas of twinkling diamond, stars innumerable glimmering upon the distant horizon to inspire wonder and tranquility in even the most sullen soul. As far as the eye could see, silhouettes of men long since died looked up and basked in the light of a pure white sun, its wings spread to shroud them all beneath its light - and from it was sung a living aria, breathing and sighing in a cadence that spoke words of peace and love and grace all the same, unlike any stanza that could ever hope to leave mortal or immortal lips. Her Song. THE Song. Oh, that song… That lullaby that It once knew. 

 

Songs of power strove within the being as It was roused, rivulets streaking through crumbling masonry and weeping sapphire, hallowed white veil settling within the crypt as fog as It had awoken. Beneath the cloak of stars would glimpse the collective, not as one Lord above the many, but as kindred one and all - a flock, with no need of shepherd. The stone spoke, a dizzying cascade of voices uttering in reverent tones, its mantle assumed; and It was born anew.

 

“Salvul - Burzgern…”

 

The sword shattered, but the hymn endured.

 

“Yofuul - Kknotos.”

 

The forlorn cried out for salvation. It answered.

 

“A’cortzun hraz azh disidyz al’ithurzu undere serthek…”

 

Anything, to hear her sing once more.

 

Anything.