Nariel

Nariel is the ethron goddess of the hunt. Her document is yet to be written.

.

                  A Myth of Lielqan and Nariel
              as transcribed by Eqidri of the Qali

This myth-song is of a form sung by the Leqari clan who dwells beneath the Sea of Lidreau, and has several interesting differences between versions sung by the Qali or Eqiril. I have done my best to transcribe the music they set it to as well, but as most of their instruments work best underwater, this is at best an approximation. Anyone who can find their way to meet with the Leqari should absolutely make the time to hear their singers.

         - Eqidri, Eril Village

The world was young and the skies were bright with sun And Nariel ranged beneath the spreading trees Her wit was sharp, her arrows swift, her step was

 ever-sure and true
 

Now Elar the Mother grew much concerned for Her daughter dared places even she knew not But a child leaves in order to grow so she

 tended home alone
 

In her garden the ethron grew strong and green Under the Mother's care. Her water was love, Her food was the sun, her soil her gentle arms:

 thus her ethron bloomed
 

Some chased Nariel 'cross the forest and She taught them secrets her mother would not share: To stalk a deer in silence, to sing with birds,

 string an ashwood bow

In silence did Lielqan dwell, beneath the Sunset sea. No ethron sought her words or Sang songs in her name. She knew this and did

 not sorrow, and yet--
 

No one is pleased to abide alone. She sang To the coral and taught whales to breathe the air But sharks she loved best of all: for they do not

 end but by their will
 

But Lielqan's touch is needed at times of Beginnings and of ends. Thus she leaves her seas And ventures onto shore. The ethron feared her

 summons dire, but--
 

She took them into her arms and held them close She sang them songs as they died and shed no tears While Elar watched and sorrowed for her children's ends

 Lielqan left them.

One day it happened that Nariel saw her come And walk amongst the ethron who loved her not: Lielqan stopped and lifted a sickly girl

 while Elar stood by
 

Now Lielqan took the girl away with her Without a glance behind her, forward to her Watery home. Around her the ethron sorrowed and

 Nariel called out:
 

"Why do you do this, ven'rable grandmother? Return that girl to her home. Her mother loves Her and her sisters weep. Do not steal away

 that fam'ly's dear child!"
 

So Lielqan stopped but did not turn around She looked instead to Elar, who fell silent at this call. "She has been remiss," said Sunset's

 living hand, and turned.

"This is a thing which you all should know: there is a dragon in the Void,"

 she sang in the voice of whales. The sun now set around them.
 

"Because It sleeps I may stand in a place between this life and the end.

 I take her because I must. Without me, the Dragon reigns."

Lielqan left, the girl carried in her arms. Nariel remained, disturbed. She looked to her Mother and asked, "Does she speak the truth? Is there

 this dragon lurking?"
 

Elar did not answer, so Nariel knew It for true. She turned away and went apart And the stars fled the skies for three days with her:

 alone she brooded
 

When Nariel emerged, she took up her bow and her sword and a necklace wrought with starlight and she kissed her mother good-bye. And she said:

 "I'll go to the Void."
 

"I fear no death, and I fear no dragon's call. I will steal this death that troubles us all, and take it from this world. I go; fear not for me."

 Thus the maiden left.

Elar did grow much afraid, for she knew what dangers the Void did hold, and what power the Dragon did bear. For her childrens' safety she

 told them not, but now--
 

Now she took to the skies and sought Kyana of the stars. "Beloved," she said, "our daughter runs into the greatest of peril. She seeks the

 great Dragon to rip
 

Death itself from Its jaws. Cold Lielqan told Her of Its 'gift'. I fear Nariel will not Return from her dread errand. I've no power

 'gainst it. I beg you,
 

Sweet Kyana. Can you call her back? I fear my Heart will break without her by my side. You might Yet be able to reach our dearest daughter.

 love, you must be able."

Kyana fell silent, and turned her from the Stars. She said at last, "I have no more power over death than you. Nariel is headstrong

 and will not heed words.
 

Not yours, not mine, and you know this too. But do Not despair, my dearest. There may yet be a Way to draw her back. You will not care for it.

 but my sister is
 

Not so cruel as you name her. Lielqan has Some power to stand in the face of death. She would go if you asked it of her, for it is

not Nariel's time.

She does not say such things for the sake of harm. A painful truth might be what is needed to Grow: a forest fire for the soul. I take no

 joy in it, yet still..."

Elar knew to hear it what cost it was to Say, for Kyana feels all pain as her own and Sorrows every cut. Elar could not bear to

 add to it, but had
 

Done all the same. She kissed the tears from Kyana's Cheeks and said, "Then your sister Lielqan it Must be. I will bid her go and return our

daughter to our home."

And Elar left the night behind and wove her Way past the dawn. She chased the sun through the day until its time was done. There at sunset,

 Lielqan waited.
 

"Your forgiveness I must beg," said Elar to the witch of the sunset sea. "I must beg a favour of you: fetch Nariel from the

 dark and endless Void."

Lielqan merely watched in silence as Elar approached her from the day;

 she was not unmoved, but she well knew the cost of what was
 

Asked. The Void welcomes no one; it wreaks the end of all. To go there is to invite

 doom upon yourself and all that you love. But that itself
 

Is reason enough to enter at greatest need. Nariel cannot hope

 to face this foe; not here and not now. She is quick and brave
 

And daring but death comes to all things. Lielqan spoke at last, her whale's voice

 an endless winding song. "I will go in to the Void for you,
 

For her, for all your children who yet endure. If Nariel still lives, I

 will bring her back to you. Dawn still returns after darkest night."

So Lielqan prepared herself not for war But for stealth, and it is no mean thing to hide The very sun's light. But clouds her cloak drew 'cross

 the sky, and rain fell
 

Veiled, she went into the Void. Now Nariel Is trackless, and leaves no trace behind. But the Necklace she brought to light her way is indeed

akin to the sun

Lielqan could feel, as none else could, the warmth of forgotten stars. Their light was gone, their scent was dead, but Lielqan knew her sister's tears.

the stars' memory

Was her guide. But after a time even the Starlight died, and Lielqan found herself in darkest Void. There were no arrows, no steel hiss.

 perhaps Nariel--

But far away Lielqan heard a lone voice Raised in fading song. Lielqan set after It, for only one would be so bold as to

 sing out in this place
 

She trekked forever, chasing that foolish voice: For if it woke the dragon, it would be the Song of the whole world's end. But Nariel was

 a huntress and she
 

Moved faster than the aging sun. Only that she Did not truly know what she sought kept Sunset On her trail. Desperately Lielqan pursued

 her, chasing that song.
 

When exhaustion nearly claimed her, Lielqan Finally found a camp, made out from the lonely Void. There, at last, Lielqan found Nariel,

 amidst endless night.

Now Nariel grew angry, for she would not be dissuaded. Her cause was righteous and she would not have Lielqan somehow protect death.

 she opened her mouth
 

And Lielqan spoke words to her which never have been revealed: neither she nor Nariel have ever said what happened between them there

 but Lielqan led
 

Nariel by the hand: reluctant, angry Still, but together they traveled from that dark And endless plane. Lielqan took off her cloak

 and Nariel her

Sword and her bow. The stars her necklace had Since dimmed, but brightened in the noonday sun. But They parted when they emerged, and said no words.

 some rifts do not heal.

Lielqan took no offense, for she is not loved. Why should she expect

 thanks for so thwarting such a scheme? But she returns those whose time
 

Is yet to come. She needs no love, she needs no thanks for she always gets her

 due. The sun rises; the sun sets. Lielqan remains for all.