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The prologue to The Blood Crown
Jun. 5th, 2009 03:31 amPROLOGUE
A convincing meditation on the splendour of the night giving out, giving out, radiating more heat than light. ~ Shriekback “More Heat than Light”
There is in the deepest of dreams a history long forgotten by human hearts, enslaved as they are to the trappings of the now and its heartbreak of oppression. It is a history that spans back to the beginning of Creation itself, carried along the unfamiliar stars to the promise of a young world still in the throes of birthing her own being. It is a history that leads up to the awakening of humanity and the alien Elfin eyes who witnessed that awakening, and it is a history of how humans and their ancient teachers came to know one another and love one another over time.
This is not the world that was intended.
Remember, remember, O Chylde of the Trees, remember in your heart what the slave master denies. For every cold breath in the night, there once was a celebration under the stars of Kessilon. For every unendurable day of heat, there once was the promise of the Spring on an unsullied Earth. And for every life drawn into the death eternal, there is a memory and hope that what has been wrought might someday be undone.
And so, the age came when a hint of light was thrown out from the deepest dark, a beacon of tremulous hope where hope found no refuge. Perhaps it was foretold somewhere in the arcane frontiers of the Augury of Gideon that such a paradox would be born in the unlikeliest of places..
Because for every prophecy, there is fulfillment and, for every task, a traveler….
A convincing meditation on the splendour of the night giving out, giving out, radiating more heat than light. ~ Shriekback “More Heat than Light”
There is in the deepest of dreams a history long forgotten by human hearts, enslaved as they are to the trappings of the now and its heartbreak of oppression. It is a history that spans back to the beginning of Creation itself, carried along the unfamiliar stars to the promise of a young world still in the throes of birthing her own being. It is a history that leads up to the awakening of humanity and the alien Elfin eyes who witnessed that awakening, and it is a history of how humans and their ancient teachers came to know one another and love one another over time.
This is not the world that was intended.
Remember, remember, O Chylde of the Trees, remember in your heart what the slave master denies. For every cold breath in the night, there once was a celebration under the stars of Kessilon. For every unendurable day of heat, there once was the promise of the Spring on an unsullied Earth. And for every life drawn into the death eternal, there is a memory and hope that what has been wrought might someday be undone.
And so, the age came when a hint of light was thrown out from the deepest dark, a beacon of tremulous hope where hope found no refuge. Perhaps it was foretold somewhere in the arcane frontiers of the Augury of Gideon that such a paradox would be born in the unlikeliest of places..
Because for every prophecy, there is fulfillment and, for every task, a traveler….
