All text Copyright 1991-2005 by L E Modesitt Jr. Permission has been given to put the below on the web provided no money is made in the process, and copyright attribution is maintained.
| Title | Published | Checked for Books? | Songs? | Books Quoted (BoO, BoR, BoA, CoW, MoLL) |
| Magic of Recluce, The | 1991-05-01 | Yes | BoO | |
| Towers of the Sunset, The | 1992-09-01 | Yes | BoR | |
| Magic Engineer, The | 1994-03-01 | Yes | BoO BoR | |
| Order War, The | 1995-01-01 | Yes | BoO | |
| Death of Chaos, The | 1995-10-01 | Yes | BoR | |
| Fall of Angels | 1996-06-01 | Yes | BoA | |
| Chaos Balance, The | 1997-09-01 | Yes | BoA CoW | |
| White Order, The | 1998-05-01 | No | - | |
| Colors of Chaos | 1999-01-01 | No | - | |
| Magi'i of Cyador | 2000-04-01 | No | - | |
| Scion of Cyador | 2000-09-01 | No | - | |
| Wellspring of Chaos | 2004-04-17 | Yes | BoO | |
| Ordermaster | 2005-01-01 | No | - |
The Basis of Order
The Book of Ryba
The Book of Ayrlyn
Colors of White
The Basis of Order (Original version written by Dorrin)
Order is life; chaos is death. This
is fact, not belief. Each living creature consists of ordered parts that must
function together. When chaos intrudes...
Order extends down to the smallest
fragments of the world. By influencing the smallest ordered segments to create a
new and ordered form, an order-master may change where land exists and where it
does not, where the rain will fall and where it will not....
In contrast, control of chaos is
simply the ability to sever one ordered element of the world from another ...
without the use of order, focused destruction is the highest level of control to
which a chaos-master can aspire ...
Simple as these words are, learning
about what order and chaos truly are is far from simple. One might say that
order is like water, that it can change forms, and that is vital to life, and
that without it nothing lives
That is less than the beginning
(The Magic of Recluce, 222, Wellspring of Chaos, 77) [WoC Mentions this as
being page 1]
Learning without understanding can
but increase the frustration of the impatient, for knowledge is like the hammer
of a smith, useless in the hands of the unskilled and able to do nothing but
injure the user who has not both knowledge and understanding
All things are
not possible, even to the greatest, and even to those with understanding ...
(The Magic of Recluce, 302 Wellspring of Chaos, 77 78) [WoC Kharl flips
page, ergo, page 2]
Order cannot be concentrated in and
of itself, not even within the staff of order, and no man can truly master the
staff of order until he casts it aside.
For order cannot be divided in two
without its power being diminished by four, and if it be divided into four
parts, then its power is less by another fourth, so that the total of all
portions is but one sixteenth of what it would have been undivided. Likewise, so
it is with a staff imbued with order for whoever wields it
(The Magic of Recluce, 378, The Magic of Recluce, 456, Wellspring of Chaos,
331)
Love no one until you can love
yourself, for love of another is merely empty flattery and self-deception for
one who cannot accept himself without pretense.
(The Magic of Recluce, 378)
Order and chaos must balance, but as
on a see-saw. The power of chaos is for great destruction in a confined area,
for order by nature must be diffused over vaster realms. If you would battle
chaos, or establish order, you must limit the area and the time in which it must
be balanced.
(The Magic of Recluce, 378)
All physical items--unlike fire or
pure chaos--must have some structure, or they would not exist ...
Because all wrought iron has a grain
created from the forging of its crystals, the strength of the iron lies in the
alignment and length of the grain. Using order to reinforce that grain is the
basis for creating black iron ... Its strength lies in the ordering of unbruised
or unstrained grains along the length of the metal ...
(The Magic Engineer, 318)
If order or chaos be without limits,
then common sense would indicate that each should have triumphed when the great
ones of each discipline have arisen. Yet neither has so triumphed, despite men
and women of power, intelligence, and ambition. Therefore, the scope of either
or chaos is in fact limited, and the belief in the balance of forces
demonstrated ...
(The Magic Engineer, 318)
Pure order cannot nourish life, for
living requires growth, and the process of growth is the constant struggle to
bring order out of chaos.
When a fire destroys the great
forests of the Westhorns, immediately order replenishes itself with scores of
seedlings and bushes striving to recover the hillsides.
When a stone wall is built, the
forces of frost and heat continually tumble the stones. So too is it with a
house, once the constant order of the hearthholder is removed.
The function of order is to support
that life which can order chaos; and without chaos to be ordered, there can be
no purpose to life.
The function of chaos is to destroy
order. Without order, no structure can exist--no man nor woman, no plant, not
even an earth upon which to walk. Thus, the total triumph of chaos is its
defeat.
What can be said of order and chaos,
then? Since the world was, is, and will be, neither order nor chaos may triumph.
Therefore, in the world as a whole there must be equal measures of each, and
that Balance will be maintained; for, if it is not, there shall be either no
world or no life.
And upon this world are the lands and
the seas.
People call the sea chaos, but the
sea contains a deeper order within the ever-changing waves and depths, and the
seas wash upon the beaches and retreat, and that changes not.
Likewise people call the land
orderly, for it changes seldom, yet beneath that surface order is great
disorder, filled with the fires and chaos of the demons.
A people of the sea must be of order,
for order must contain the surface chaos of the oceans and harmonize with the
deeper order under the waves.
Likewise, a people of chaos can only
exist upon the land, for the sea will rend them unto nothing.
(The Magic Engineer, 521-522) [The Basis of Order Fragment attributed to
Section II]
Those who do not understand order or
chaos say that the two belong only to those with the gift for one or the other,
and that those who have such gifts are few. This is truth, and it is also a
falsehood. Many men and women have gifts. Some are more intelligent than others;
some are stronger; some are more patient; some have great courage; some have
great understanding. So to say that one has a gift for order or chaos can be
truth. Yet, to suggest that there is something improper about understanding
order or chaos because it requires a gift is a falsehood. Each and every great
talent, whatever it may be, requires a gift of greater ability. A man may have a
gift for letters, and for distilling truth. A woman may have a gift for numbers,
and for trading of goods. A youth may have the gift of song, and another the
gift of hands that can shape iron or wood. So it is with order and chaos.
Yet many would claim that the gift to
understand order and chaos is different from the gift of understanding other
aspects of the world, that anyone can be a crafter or an engineer, but that only
a special few can become order-mages or chaos-masters. This is a falsehood, for
the great ones in any area of endeavour are few, whether that area be
engineering, cabinetry, fishing, or order-magery
In the beginning, as a child, a boy
or girl can have the gift, not for one or the other, but for either, or, if the
gift is great enough, for both
So can a man or woman, once grown, if he or she
approaches order as might a child. For order is a wonder, and those who can yet
wonder as children can have their eyes opened at any age
(Wellspring of Chaos, 101 102)
a staff, or any other object, may
be infused with order. If the Balance is maintained, concentrating such order
must result in a greater amount of chaos somewhere else. Therefore, the greater
the effort to concentrate order within material objects, the greater the amount
of free chaos within the world
(The Order War, 5, Wellspring of Chaos, 153) [The OW mentions this as being
page 50 (3rd section of 1st part)
all that is, everything that
exists, is little more than the twisting of chaos in a shell of order, and the
greater the complex-ity of those twistings, the more solid the object appears. A
thumb of lead or gold may appear more solid than a feather or a flower, and may
indeed overbalance the scales, yet there is no difference in the fashion in
which they are constructed
(Wellspring of Chaos, 153)
the form of everything under the
sun is determined by the amount of order and chaos and the way in which they are
combined and intertwined
(Wellspring of Chaos, 153)
Water is of both chaos and order, yet
it is order, and represents order, for its structure overweighs its parts
Because water is both order and of
order, yet comprised of parts that are totally chaotic, it challenges chaos with
the depth of its order. Truly a river people or a sea people must hold to order
or they will be lost. Chaos fares best upon the dry land, and least in a steady
rain or snowfall
Even a fog will affect a
chaos-wielder, but only those who are of the weaker sort. A steady rain is a
patterned fall of ordered chaos. A raindrop is ordered, and the fall of each is
unpatterned, chaotic, yet all raindrops falling together results in a pattern
ordered by chaos, and that order can weaken or destroy many of the links of
power created by those who wield chaos, as the fires of sun itself can weaken
those who wield order, if they do not understand that the sun is a furnace of
chaos
(Wellspring of Chaos, 153 154)
there is more that lies beneath the
surface of anything, whether it be the ocean or the mountains
Do not assume
that what lies beneath is the same as what lies above, nor that it is different
In substance, there is no difference
between chaos and order, for neither has substance in and of itself
(Wellspring of Chaos, 155)
Is there a sourcea wellspringof
order or of chaos? Can something exist without a source? And if there be such,
what is indeed the wellspring of chaos? Or that of order? There is but one, for
chaos can be said to be the wellspring of order, and order the wellspring of
chaos. These are so because, for so long as there is life, neither chaos nor
order can exist by itself for long without the other.
Yet for so long as there have been
peoples upon the face of the world, there have been those who championed order
over chaos, or chaos over order. There have been those who denied the power of
one, or of both. All creatures that live are born, and birth is the triumph of
life. All creatures, from the largest to the smallest, are brought low by death,
and death is the triumph of chaos.
How can one say, then, that chaos is
greater, or that order is?
(Wellspring of Chaos, 193 194)
each thing under the sun, be it man
or a machine, a creature or an object created, is unique, no matter how closely
it resembles another, and yet all these unique things are created from the
sameness of order and chaos, and all that is unique is the manner in which order
and chaos are twisted into the unique forms that we are and that surrounds us
(Wellspring of Chaos, 207)
The greatest danger in practicing
deception is not in the reaction of others, whether it be anger or cupidity. A
greater danger is the cultivation of contempt for that which is. Deception is a
practice of contempt, contempt for those whom one would deceive, and contempt
for the world as it is. Just as understanding what is must be the first step
toward using order, contempt for a true vision is the first step toward being a
tool of power rather than its enlightened user
(Wellspring of Chaos, 255)
often those inexperienced in using
order will force raw order upon an object, thinking that such an effort will
strengthen the object. Such an effort will indeed strengthen the object, even as
it weakens the one who attempts this, but only for so long as the would-be mage
lavishes his strength. When his strength is spent, the object will become once
more as it was. Far better is to study the object, and to learn how it is tied
together with order and chaos, and to gently change those bonds in keeping with
what the object is, for if weak bonds are replaced by strong bonds within the
object itself, those bonds will remain strengthened, just as black iron remains
stronger than iron forged without ordering
(Wellspring of Chaos, 255)
Black iron should only be created
while being forged
attempting to change less-ordered cold iron into black iron
is possible only with great effort, enough to exhaust even the strongest of
mages
(Wellspring of Chaos, 257)
Order is like glue, in that it links
all together, while chaos is but the opposite. Its power lies in separating
and when even the smallest bits of that which surround us are separated, basic
fire and the heat of the flame are released. A chaos-wizard channels that fire
and flame, and yet he must use order to do so, lest he be separated from himself
by the powers of separation
(Wellspring of Chaos, 355)
The Book of Ryba
There were in Heaven in those days
rulers of the angels, and the rulers had rulers above them, and in turn, those
rulers had rulers over them.
More than half of the angels of
Heaven were women, yet only some of the lowest of the rulers were women; fewer
yet of those rulers of rulers were women; and none of the highest rulers were in
fact women, nor even the Cherubim nor the Seraphim.
The angels of Heaven were each like
unto gods, and each could throw thunderbolts from a hammer held in her hand;
each could travel vast leagues in chariot drawn by fire, either over the ground
or through the skies.
So when it came to pass that the
angels of Heaven girded themselves for the battle with the demons of the light,
those who were women asked this thing: For what reason do we fight the demons?
The rulers of the rulers of the
angels replied: We fight the demons of the light because they opposeth us.
And the angels who were women asked
again: For what reason do we fight the demons?
They revere the light of chaos and
they opposeth us, responded the Cherubim; and the rulers were sore affronted at
the question.
Still a lower ruler, an angel, yet a
woman, bearing the name of Ryba, called for and answer from the Seraphim: the
demons seeketh not our lands nor our lives, yet you would sacrifice our
children, and our children's children, because the demons are not as we are.
There can be no peace between angels
and demons, not in the firmament of Heaven, not in the white depths of Hell,
answered the Seraphim, girding up their loins and clasping unto themselves the
swords of the stars that are suns and the dark lances of winter that shatter
lands with their chill.
You declare there can be no peace,
when there has been peace, and you cannot yet answer why that peace mayest not
continue. Thus persisted Ryba of the angels.
And the Seraphim and the Cherubim
were most wroth, and they gathered unto them all the angels that were men, and
the white mists that tell of the truths that are within men and within women, be
they angels or mortals. And they encircled all of the angels within the white
clouds.
Yet Ryba and lesser of the angels who
were women broke from the circle and gathered themselves, their possessions, and
their children unto themselves and unto their chariots, and they departed Heaven
in their own way.
The Cherubim and the Seraphim drew
unto themselves all the angels that remained and armed all with the swords of
the stars and the lances of winter, and carried destruction and night unto the
demons of light.
Across the suns that are stars, and
even through the depths of winter between stars, the remaining angels pursued
both the demons of light and the angels who had fled.
But the demons of light drew unto
their own ways and resources and built for themselves the mirror towers of
blinding light that dispersed back unto the angels the energies of the swords of
the stars and the lances of winter.
The stars dimmed, and the firmament
that contained Heaven and all the stars and even the darkness between stars
shook under the powers of the Cherubim and the Seraphim, and the change winds
roared across the faces of the waters and blotted out the lights.
Yet the demons were not dismayed, and
mounted into their towers and hurled them against the angels, and again the
firmament trembled and tottered, and this time, the stars fell into winter, and
Heaven was rent in many places, and smoke that poisoned even the angels rose
from that burning, and the Cherubim and the Seraphim, and the host of the angels
perished, as did all but the strongest of the demons of light.
Ryba, the least of the rulers of
angels, thus became the last of the rulers, and the angels, having fallen from
the stars after the time of the great burning, came unto the Roof of the World,
where they gathered the winds for shelter and abided until the winter should
lift.
Yet upon the Roof of the World, as a
memory of the fall of the angels, winter yet remains.
So in that time, Ryba sent forth her
people unto the southlands and the western ways, and told them: Remember whence
you came, and suffer not any man to lead you, for that is how the angels fell...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 69-72) [Book of Ryba, Canto 1, Section II
(Original text)]
The walled city that serves as the
key to the Westhorns shall not fall nor sleep so long as her ruler holds fast to
the Great Keep, and that keep remains girded in three layers of stone.
The fields of Gallos, the groves of
Kyphros, and the highlands of Analeria shall support the same great ruler; they
shall support that ruler until they are sundered by the mountains of fire.
A man with a sword of white shall
lift hills from the earth; he shall set a road of stone down their spine, yet
none shall see that road, nor ride it, save the servants of chaos.
From the blackness of the stars shall
come one like an ancient angel, building unto himself tools such as those forged
by Nylan that first vanquished the reborn masters of light, and he shall be
rejected by chaos and by order; neither shall give him refuge.
He shall make a city of black stone
in a place where none dwell, north of the sun and east of chaos; and the hand of
every person shall be against him; his tools shall prevail and shall anchor the
course of order.
Yet chaos will prevail west of the
black city, north and south of the sun; and those in white shall serve light and
travel the hidden highways; they shall attain richness and every favor for their
pleasure.
Those of the black city and in that
place where it dwells shall remain girded; their ships shall travel the oceans
great and small, and they shall prosper so long as they remain in their land.
For in time, the double sun will wax
in the high sky and sunder the servants of light; their towers shall melt like
wax upon a forge; and their highways shall be lost; men and women will revile
their names, even as seekers quest for the knowledge of light.
Never shall darkness nor light
prevail, for one must balance the other; yet many of light will seek to banish
darkness, and a multitude shall seek to cloak the light; but the balance will
destroy all who seek the full ends of darkness and light.
Then shall a woman rule the parched
fields and dry groves of the reformed Kyphros and the highlands of Analeria and
the enchanted hills; and all matters of wonders shall come to pass.
In the fullness of time, both order
and chaos shall rise again. Those who seek order shall follow chaos, and those
who follow chaos shall seek order, and none shall know which path to tread.
The sword called knowledge shall be
unsheathed, and scholars and soldiers shall both proclaim its virtue and trumpet
how it shall bring prosperity out of want, and plenty out of drought. Yet its
blade will cut deep into the land and burn into the heavens, and many will turn
from its terrors unto their own weapons.
Terrible indeed shall be those
weapons--one shall be like unto the swords of the stars that are suns, and
another like unto the lances of winter and yet another like unto the mirrored
towers raised by the demons of light.
Dark ships shall speed upon the
water, and destruction shall fall from the heavens, shattering the greatest of
walls, and even the weakest of those who bear arms shall strike with the force
of firebolts
For every shield shall there be a
greater sword, and for every sword, a swifter quarrel to bring it low. For every
firebolt shall there be a higher wall of ice, and for every wall of ice, a
ladder of fire with which to scale it.
For every prophet shall come another
who says the opposite, and whoever shall offer his words last shall the people
follow, and they shall turn one way and then the other, for no road shall offer
certainty, nor peace, nor rest. And none shall sleep easy.
Men and women shall question, and so
shall the angels. Yet for every answer shall they find a score more of
questions, each with yet a score more answers, until their words and their
reason be stopped with words whose meaning escapes even the highest.
The dark ships shall cover the
oceans, thick as sands upon the shores, and they shall come from the end of the
earth to the city of black stone, north of the sun and east of chaos.
Those of the black city will cover
their faces and wail loud lamentations, claiming that they had ever stood
against chaos, and the dark ships of the sun shall neither heed nor turn from
their course.
And on the shores of truth shall
stand those serving neither order nor chaos, yet both, and without trumpets,
without firebolts, shall they sow confusion upon the waters.
From that confusion, shall the dark
ships of the sun seek refuge, but neither the mountains no the oceans shall
provide succor. Mountains shall be rendered into dust, and oceans shall be
burned and boiled, and ashes shall cover all, and chaos shall die.
Likewise, shall order die, and all
manner of changing the way of the world, save through the tools of the hands,
and the tools of the tools.
For, as a woman shall sow, so shall
she reap, not as she wishes or would order that seed, but as the sun and the
rain see fit, or as the water and nourishment she may bring unto her crops with
her own hands.
Unto each generation shall the tales
be passed, of how order and chaos once served, and how tools enhanced that
service, and of how, in the end, order and chaos grew to such might as
threatened the heavens, and were cast down.
An[d?], in the fullness of time, it
shall come that the children of the angles will fail to heed those words, and
come to believe that as one sows, so shall one reap, forgetting that once it was
not thus.
Yet neither order nor chaos shall be
vanquished, but each shall sleep unto the generations, gathering powers until,
near the end of time, each shall awaken.
(The Magic Engineer, 28-30, The Death of Chaos, 144 352 475-478) [Book
of Ryba Canto DL [The Last] Original text]
Book of Ayrlyn
The ellipses are part of the original text, indicating textual breaks but
overall continuity (i.e. there are missing parts, but each section comes after
the next). The sources are all quoted right at the end of this section because
every passage in the books overlaps with the next.
There were angels in Heaven in those
days, and there were demons, and the demons were the creators and the creation
of chaos ...
In that distant battle between the
fires of the demons and the ice lances of the angels, the very skies twisted in
upon themselves, and the angels, who came from cold Heaven, were cast down and
strewn across the stars.
Those angels, the first and the last
from far Heaven, when they found the world, knew not where they were, nor could
they see even the stars from whence they had come. And they descended unto the
Roof of the World.
There they build the Citadel of the
Winds, the tower called Black, with those chained lightnings yet they had
retained, carving unto themselves a high refuge and a reminder of their past.
So as they had come, so earlier had
come those from the lands and heritage of the demons, and those were men who
believed not that women should wear blades nor speak their minds and thoughts.
In the time of that first summer came
armsmen, inspired by the demons, and there were battles across the Roof of the
World, and blood ...
Thus continued the conflict between
order and chaos, between those who would force order and those who would not,
and between those who followed the blade and those who followed the spirit.
On the Roof of the World, those first
angels raised crops amid the eternal ice, and builded walls, and made bricks,
and all manner of devisings of the most miraculous, from the black blades that
never dulled to the water that flowed amidst the ice of winter and the tower
that remained yet warm from a single fire.
Of the great ones in those times
were, first, Ryba of the twin blades, Nylan of the forge of order, Gerlich the
hunter, Saryn the mighty, and Ayrlyn of the songs that forged the guards of
Westwind ...
For as the skilled and terrible smith
Nylan forged the terrible black blades of Westwind, and wrenched the very stones
from the mountains for the tower called Black, so did Ryba guide the guards of
Westwind, letting no man triumph upon the Roof of the World.
For as each lord of the demons said,
'I will not suffer those angel women to survive,' and as each angel fell, Ryba
created yet another from those who fled the demons, until there were none that
could stand against Tower Black.
So too, as did each of the forges of
Heaven fail, did the mighty smith Nylan bend the fires of the world to his will
and forge yet anew the black blades of Westwind.
Yet, despite Nylan's efforts in
smithing the legions of the demons into dust, Ryba the mighty was not satisfied,
and she asked for more black blades than the snowflakes that fell upon Tower
Black, and for arrows that no armor could stop. And Nylan bent the forges to his
will, and it was so, and still was Ryba displeased....
... and so it came to pass that Ryba
was the last of the angles to rule the heavens and the angel who set forth the
Legend for all to heed. Yet Ryba did not wish the Legend to leave Westwind.
For with the going forth of the
prophet Relyn, who told all east of the mighty Westhorns about the Legend and
the triumph of order, Ryba became more displeased, and called unto her all those
of her guards.
And from that day did the new angels
accept no man full-grown, no matter how ill or disabled, leaving any man found
in the domain of Westwind to make his own way or to perish upon the Roof of the
World.
Nor was any man raised in Westwind
allowed to lift a blade, for it was foretold that when a man next lifted a blade
would Westwind soon fall, but until then would Tower Black hold against all
Candar, east and west, and even against all the mages of the world.
When word carried to Tower Black that
the smith Nylan forged mighty blades again, and that those of Lornth warred with
ancient Cyador, the black stones shivered with the foresight of the Angel.
Then did Ryba announce that Lornth
would rue the day it put its trust in the iron of Nylan and the songs of Ayrlyn,
for all that a man builds with iron will fall to iron, and the songs that a man
finds sweet can carry no truth.
And the guards of Westwind hardened
their hearts, as cold and terrible as the ice that never leaves Freyja....
(Fall of Angels, 3 106)[Fragment] (The Chaos Balance, 21 249)[Formatted
as shown in CB] Book of Ayrlyn Section I [Restricted Text] (NB: there are some
contradictions in the order of the text (I think Fall of Angels lack an ellipsis
after "and those who followed the spirit.", and have followed the text given in
the Chaos Balance)
Colors of White
The angels of darkness made the Roof
of the World their home, and after deceiving the followers of light who had
eagerly welcomed them, they wielded the ancient and dreadful weapons of Heaven
and vanquished those who rejoiced in the light.
In those first dark years, there were
none at first among the dark ones who could descend to the lower lands and bear
the heat, and the lords of mankind, their true daughters, and their consorts
rejoiced that this was so.
For the angels of temptation bore
blades that slashed through armor and loosed arrowheads that treated iron
bucklers as if they were rotten wood, and they raised a mighty stronghold called
Westwind, anchored on Tower Black, that rivaled Freyja in power. And the
followers of light, who had ages earlier forsaken the powers of the heavens,
relinquished the barren heights to the dark angles and their evil powers.
The dark angels were women who made a
mockery out of hearth and home, who reviled men and laughed as they destroyed
all the armies of the Westhorns sent against them, as they forced the great
lords to heap dust and ashes upon their own heads and to bend their knees and
pay tribute, and to stand helplessly as their daughters were tempted from their
hearths and consorts.
Yet an even more deadly evil was to
flow from the Roof of the World, and none knew it, from the mighty Nylan, smith
of the angels, he who builded the Tower Black, he who forged the blades of night
and the arrows of the storms....
(The Chaos Balance, 11) Colors of White (Manual of the Guild at Fairhaven)
Preface
Disdaining the Angel Ryba, the smith
Nylan, knowing the fate of the once-mighty hunter Gerlich, made his way from
Westwind, with all the stealth and craft that befitted the one who had
re-created the fires of Heaven and the rains of death.
The soul-singer Ayrlyn accompanied
him, and a child, and far more harm than mighty Ryba did these three portend for
all of Candar, and all lands, even unto the ends of the world...
The Angel and Marshal of Westwind was
sore vexed, and sent she her guards after the three, but, against the dark arts
of the smith and the singer, they could not prevail, and in time the three came
to the ancient and powerful land of Lornth.
The people of Lornth closed their
shutters as the angels passed, and feared as the dark shadows crossed their
doors.
The leader of the council of Lornth
was a woman, and guileless, and, beguiled by Nylan and the sweet songs of the
dark singer and the seeming innocence of the child, she offered them respite,
and opened her land unto these dark ones, despite the counsel of those who
cautioned against what would come from the angels.
And there, for time, abided the
mighty smith and the singer of dark songs, and the child.
(The Chaos Balance, 142) Colors of White (Manual of the Guild at Fairhaven)
Preface
In the mighty city of Cyad dwelt the
mages of the white rainbow, whose ships fueled on fire and spanned the seas,
whose white marble palaces glittered in the sun of contentment, and who pursued
the knowledge of the distant stars.
Horseless wagons, harnessing the
power of chaos to the will of man and mage, traversed the polished stone
roadways smoother than glass. Those great firewagons sped more swiftly than the
wind, bringing crops and goods and wealth to all of Cyador.
All were content in the order kept by
the white mages, and seldom were necessary the shimmering shields and burnished
blades of the mighty Mirror Lancers, for there was peace.
In those days had Cyador allowed
Lornth privileges in the Grass Hills, among them the privilege to remove metals
from the earth. Seeing this privilege, the smith Nylan, in his guile, asked of
the regents of Lornth why they existed upon the suffrage of Cyad, when for
generations they had slaved and the mages of Cyad had done nothing with the
bright copper buried in the Grass Hills.
Those of Lornth pondered his words
long into the deeps of the night and recalled that the Grass Hills were yet
those of the Lord of Cyad.
As they pondered, then sang Ayrlyn
the soul-singer of that darkness of despair that would follow when Cyad asked
back what was its due, and when Lornth could no longer mine the bright copper of
the Grass Hills.
What can be done, asked the leader of
the Lornians, for she was a woman and trusting. How shall we hold to the
delvings of our fathers and forefathers that have sustained us through the
years?
In response to such questions, the
dark angel Nylan offered a great wizardry against which the might of Cyador and
her mages would not prevail, and, persuaded by the wily Nylan, the council of
Lornth said, it shall be so, and they turned their eyes from the evil that Nylan
proposed.
(The Chaos Balance, 199) Colors of White (Manual of the Guild at Fairhaven)
Preface
... and when the White Lancers of
Cyad had come at last to the copper mines of the north, those of Lornth threw
down their picks and shovel and their blades, and fled into the Grass Hills, for
they well knew that the copper mines were not theirs, and they were sore afraid
of the righteous wrath of the Lord of Cyador.
The White Lancers rebuilt and
refurbished the mines, and brought order and discipline back into the Hills of
Grass, nor did they afflict the peoples nor their hamlets.
The wily Nylan, like the mountain cat
who cannot face the the well-prepared hunter in the light of day, advised the
guileless council of Lornth behind heavy doors, saying, If the Cyadorans cannot
eat and they cannot sleep, they will not hold to the mines that your fathers and
forefathers have worked. And they will depart.
The delvers and diggers of Cyad
labored long and with great effort to bring forth the copper from the mines,
trusting in the honor of the Lornians and in the forces of the most honorable
White Lancers.
For in that time, none believed that
even the wily Nylan would stoop to slaughtering innocent horses, nor to
murdering hapless wagoners, nor to raising fireballs in the night and dropping
them upon lancer and digger alike while they slept. All this did Nylan, and
more, terrible and dishonorable deeds better lost in tumult of time. Yet
remember we must, for this is how the dark angels came to power in Candar....
(The Chaos Balance, 307-308) Colors of White (Manual of the Guild at
Fairhaven) Preface
... and when mighty Cyad asked that
her lands might remain hers, that her gifts to Lornth be remembered in honor and
peace, Nylan spoke quietly, saying that the legions of Cyad would rain
destruction upon Lornth, and that the white legions must needs be repulsed.
Will you have Cyad take all that for
which you and your fathers and forefathers have worked and earned, asked the
dark Nylan. And all of Lornth said that Cyad must be destroyed. From the
shimmering cities of order and their peoples to the polished stone roadways
smoother than glass and the great firewagons that sped upon them more swiftly
that the wind, Cyad should be no more.
None would stand and state that Cyad
had been kind and just, and that her peoples lived in justice and peace. For
such truth was struck down by the dark mage Nylan with his black hammer, and
also by the dark Ayrlyn and her lute so that none would know the grace of Cyad.
The Mirror Lancers burnished their
shields and lifted their lances, and the sound of the hoofs of their steeds
echoed through rocks and stones of all Candar. The white mages, powerful in the
paths of peace and wary of war, girded their robes and invoked the hopes of
peace ... but all were doomed.
For Nylan, the dark angel, again
lifted his hands, and he unbound the Accursed Forest of Naclos, and the forest
rewarded him, and rendered back unto him the fires of Heaven and the rains of
death. And Nylan laughed and cast those fires and rain across the west of Candar.
And Ayrlyn sang songs that wrenched soul from soul and heart from body.
The Mirror Lancers found their light
lances turned upon them, and the very earth rose and smote them, and the
righteousness of the white mages was for naught as their glasses exploded before
them, and death rained upon all the armsmen of Cyad, until none stood.
The very ground heaved, and belched,
and swallowed the great cities of Cyad and Fyrad, and the winds flattened
distant Summerdock so that no stone remained upon another.
The Grass Hills were seared into the
Stone Hills, so dry that nothing lives there to this day. And Lornth rejoiced
... until its time had come....
(The Chaos Balance, 441-442) Colors of White (Manual of the Guild at
Fairhaven) Preface
Songs
NB: Song classification system shamelessly stolen from
here
Songs of Love, and Loss of Love
...down by the seashore,
where the waters foam white,
Hang your head over; hear the winds's flight.
The east wind loves sunshine,
And the west wind loves night.
The north blows alone, dear,
And I fear the light.
You've taken my heart, dear,
Beyond the winds' night.
The fires you have kindled
last longer than light.
...last longer than light, dear,
when the waters foam white;
Hang your head over; hear the wind's flight.
The fires you have kindled
Will last out my night.
Soon I will die, dear,
On the mountains' cold height.
The steel wind blows truth, dear,
Beyond my blade's might.
...beyond my blade's might, dear,
where the waters foam white;
Hang your head over; hear the wind's flight.
I told you the truth, dear,
Right from the start.
I wanted your love, dear,
With all of my heart.
Sometimes you hurt me,
And sometimes we fought,
But now that you've left me,
My life's been for naught.
My life's been for naught, dear,
when the waters foam white;
So hang your head over, and hear the wind's flight.
So hang your head over, and hear the wind's flight.
(The Towers of the Sunset, 381--382) (The Towers of the Sunset, 535)[fragment]
(The Order War, 133--134) (The Order War, 267--268)
[Note: Song formatted as in Order War]
Ask not the song to be sung,
Or the bell to rung,
Or if my tale is done.
The answer is all--and none.
The answer is all--and none.
Oh, white was the color of my love,
As bright and white as a dove,
And white was he, as fair as she,
Who sundered my love from me.
Ask not the tale to be done,
The rhyme to be rung,
Or if the sun has sung.
The answer is all--and none.
The answer is all--and none.
Oh, black was the color of my sight,
as dark and black as the night,
and dark was I, as dark as sky,
whose lightning bared the lie.
Ask not the bell to be rung,
or the song to be sung,
or if my tale is done.
The answer is all--and none.
The answer is all--and none.
(The Towers of the Sunset, 124--125) (The Towers of the Sunset,
173--174)[fragment] (The Towers of the Sunset, 327)[fragment] (The Towers of the
Sunset, 535)[fragment] (The Order War, 268--269)
THE SYBRAN SONG
When the snow drops on the stone,
When the wind song's all alone,
When the iceswords form in twain,
Sing of the hearths where we've lain.
When the green tips break the snow,
When the cold streams start to flow,
When the snow hares turn to black,
Sing out to call our love back.
When the plains grass whispers gold,
When the red blooms flower bold,
When the year's foals gallop long,
Hold to the fall and our song ...
(Fall of Angels, 102)
(The Chaos Balance, 127)[Fragment]
...catch a falling fire; hold it to the skies;
never let it die away.
For love may come and fill your empty eyes
with the light of more than day...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 340)
--
...I would not live without you,
like aching souls I know,
like older men with hearts of stone,
who chose to live alone...
I would not love without you,
like empty homes I've seen...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 340)
--
You are the fire of my nights,
the light of my days,
and the end of my wand'ring ways.
You are ... you are ... you are
the sun in the skies.
(The Towers of the Sunset, 341)
--
...high upon highland, the brightest of days,
I thought of my lover, and his warm, loving ways...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 433)
--
...and in the summer, and under the trees,
my love will lift you across the farthest seas...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 440)
--
I watched my love sail out to sea,
His hand was deft; he waved to me.
But then the waters foamed white and free
Just as my love turned false to me.
Oh, love is wild, and love is bold,
The fairest flower when e'er it is new,
But love grows old, and waxes cold
And fades away like morning dew...
(The Magic Engineer, 211)
(The Order War, 135)
--
... sing a song of gold coins,
A pack filled up with songbirds,
A minstrel lusting after love,
And yelling out some loving words ...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 327)
(The Order War, 134)
WESTWIND SONGS
From the skies of long--lost Heaven
to the heights of Westwind keep,
we will hold our blades in order,
and never let our honor sleep.
From the skies of light--iced towers
to the demons' place on earth,
We will hold fast lightnings' powers,
and never count gold's worth.
As the guards of Westwind keep
our souls hold winter's sweep;
We will hold our blades in order,
and never let our honor sleep ...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 328)[Fragment]
(Fall of Angels, 150)[Original: formatted as shown]
Up on the mountain
where the men dare not go,
the angels set guards there
in the ice and the snow.
The guards they are women,
with blades out of steel,
and their hearts they are colder
than any ice you can feel.
Up on the mountain
where the trees do not grow,
the sun seldom shines
nor the rivers do flow.
From out of the Westhorns,
guards march from the stone.
Their blades are the fires,
that slice to the bone.
They'll cut you and leave you
all bleeding and cold,
and no one will find you,
till the mountains grow old.
The rocks they will splinter,
and the snows will fall deep,
and the guards of the mountains
will hold to their keep.
Their castle will stand, dear,
till the whole world is white,
till the Legend's forgotten,
with the demons of light.
Till my songs have been buried
in the depths of the nights,
and all the young men shun
the mountain's chill heights.
Up on the mountain
where the men dare noot go,
the angels set guards there
in the ice and the snow.
And there they will stay, dear,
till the whole world is white,
till the Legend's forgotten,
with the demons of light.
Till my songs have been buried
in the depths of the night,
and none of the young men
seek out that cold height;
and none of the young men
seek out that cold height.
(The Towers of the Sunset, 325--327)
(The Towers of the Sunset, 339--340)[fragment]
On the Roof of the World, all covered with white,
I took up my blade there, and I brought back the night.
With a blade in each hand, there, and the stars at my boots,
With the Legend in song, then, I set down my roots.
The demons have claimed you, forever in light,
But the darkness of order will put them to flight,
Will break them in twain, soon, and return you your pride,
For the Legend is kept by the blade at your side.
The blades at your side, now, must always be bright,
And the Legend we hold to is that of the right.
For never will guards lose the heights of the sky,
And never can Westwind this Legend deny ...
And never can Westwind this Legend deny.
(Fall of Angels, 211)
(The Chaos Balance, 31)
...honor bright, honor bright...
...from the mountain's height...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 440)
--
Oh, Nylan was a smith, and a mighty mage was he.
With lightning hammer and anvil of night forged he.
From the Westhorns tall came the blades and bows of the night,
Their lightning edges gave the angles forever the height.
Oh, Nylan was a mage, and a mighty smith was he.
With rock from the heights and lightning blade built he.
On the Westhorns tall stands a tower of blackest stone,
And it holds back the winter's snows and storms all alone ...
(Fall of Angels, 341)
(The Chaos Balance, 127)
(The Chaos Balance, 245)[Fragment]
MISC SONGS
The dashing young man on the wind--bearing skis,
He flew down the cliff with the greatest of ease,
A sword on his pack and his soul in the breeze,
That dashing young man on the wind--bearing skis.
With fury to heel and his gray silver hair,
He stepped from the heights out over the trees,
And he dropped from the Roof to the magic so fair,
That dashing young man on the wind--bearing skis.
His eyes on the dark and his soul upon ice,
He flew from the Tyrant, a life filled with ease.
He left behind wealth for love without price,
That dashing young man on the wind--bearing skis.
The soldiers, they searched for many a year.
They ripped down the mountains and tore up the trees,
But never they found what they never could hear,
That dashing young man on the wind--bearing skis.
"Dashing Young Man"
Sarronnese--Anonymous
(The Towers of the Sunset, 187)
...harp strings tell the story's old,
from when the angels fled the fold,
and yet you sing that truth is strong,
when every note you strike is wrong.
Should I trust what singing brings,
when hatred hides in silvered strings?
(The Towers of the Sunset, 219)
--
The way is the way,
as the west mountains are.
The way is the way,
as solid as the sunset towers,
and the southern seas.
The way is the way,
as all life is sorrow.
The way is the way,
as all sorrow is joy.
(The Towers of the Sunset, 351)
--
If I'd held scores of flowers,
or laid within my lady's bowers ...
If I'd held reigning powers,
or struck down the sunset's towers ...
(The Order War, 135)
--
When I was single, I looked at the skies.
Now I've a consort, I listen to lies,
lies about horses that speak in the darks,
lies about cats and theories of quarks ...
(Fall of Angels, 102)
(The Chaos Balance, 127)
--
... and who will rock you to sleep?
Your daddy will rock and sing you a song,
There's only a cradle and nothing is wrong.
When the sun has set and the stars are so high,
I'll rock you and hold you 'til morning is nigh...
(Fall of Angels, 358)
--
... hush little girl, and don't you sigh,
Daddy's forging toys by and by,
and if those toys should fail to please,
Daddy's going to sing and put you at ease ...
(The Chaos Balance, 61)
--
Oh, my dear, my dear little child,
What can we do in a place so wild,
Where the sky is so green and so deep
And who will rock you to sleep?
Your daddy is leaving; he's going away
There's only a cradle and nothing to say,
but when the stars shine over the western sky,
try to remember that he once said good--bye.
(The Chaos Balance, 67)
A captain is a funny thing, a spacer with a net,
an angel gambling with her death, who never lost a bet.
The captain, she took us to those demon--towers,
then brought us back right through Heaven's showers ...
(Fall of Angels, 101)
--
Ask not what a man is,
that he scramble after flattery as he can,
or that he bend his soul to a woman's wish...
After all, he is but a man.
Ask not what a man might be,
that he carry a blade like a fan,
and sees only what his ladies wish him to see...
After all, he is but a man...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 24)
(The Towers of the Sunset, 327--328)
(The Towers of the Sunset, 440)[fragment]
--
...holding to the blade,
a--holding to the blade,
He used it like a spade,
A--holding to the blade...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 452)
--
...thirteenth day, they said that he was dead,
but up he rose and bashed the captain's head...
Ohhh...wild was the sailor, wild was the sea,
and wilder still the girl they called Maree...
...he blew so hard the sails came down,
But he rose with the prefect's crown...
Ohhh...wild was the sailor, wild was the sea,
and wilder still the girl they called Maree...
...wild was the sailor, wild was the sea,
and wilder still the girl they called Maree...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 148--149)
--
...la, la, la--la, and the cat would play
with the dog on the spring's first day...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 152)
--
...the Duke he went a--hunting,
a--hunting he did go...
(The Towers of the Sunset, 329)
(The Towers of the Sunset, 453)
--
...if he had a mule, he'd give it to a fool,
and if he had a knife, she'd not be his wife!
(The Towers of the Sunset, 450)