Children Of Vilorlith
A song that refuses to end...
"Hand in hand we faced toward what faces mine. Many lives many lives many lives as we drank from the cup of life's either. Bones to change between the the shifting light with those four lucky songs. Skin to change as we changes the sun chased the moon. Want with which to stay were sun and moon danced the same vast star lit skies."
"The listless passing of it, the knowledge that one truth of this world is that it is always a transient promise. An ebbing of passion to dispare, from light to dark. The choice of the kind is but a simple one, yet with all simple truths, it is never so easy. To enjoy that simple whisper, to sing to the song of the truth of existing, or to be a steadfast constant as the tree is to the shore. Yet as the ticking of the sands falls through the glass of your life, even the tree holding its sand beneath its roots, safe and secure. Loses grain by grain to the sea it rages against. Sing with us, hand in hand and change from change we sing that song."
Culture
Shared customary codes and values
Permanence is not a concept that the Brownies truly understand. There is truth, but not an absolute, the absolute is an abhorance. The fluidity of life, the river that courses through the blood, the endless transience of thought. The endless adaptability of time, the countless hardships in the the eternity of adversity demanding a different answer for each new truth personal and cosmic. As dreams shift in the undaunted mind of the Id, to the understanding mind of ego, the song shall ever shift to the reality profound.
Listen to that song that she sings, the one that haunts and guides the stars, the one that breathes through the leaves of trees, the one that courses through your veins. Remember this is the but one life granted to you, whether is continues on after the mind sleeps is irrelevant. That sleep that comes after isn't you, it a but another shifting form, another form both familiar and strange. Listen to her song, listen and be lost in the things it has made. Feel that pride, that sorrow, that growth, that decay, the sting and the relief, the pain and the pleasure. It is but a part of that song, so add each note with each breath you draw. Let the lantern of life fly higher.
Their people, their entire being is a transient thing, built to remix, recompose, and remaster the song that made them. The Great Mother sang her children into being with voice divine, and gave to them ability take what she had made and make it their own. The only beings to ever consider themselves both gods and Children with synchronicity. A humble pride that cannot die, a dauntless subservience to the truth that the song ever changes and so too they must adapt to the song that they themselves sung with voices eternal.
Ask not if a brownie is willing to assist, as more what is possible. For the possible you may ask is far too lacking. The possible to a child of Vilorlith is a vast cosmos of stars that the mind cannot recognize. True beings of creation, their voice a truth of this world, just as their mother sang, so too they shall.
Encompassed species
Related Organizations
Related Myths
Languages spoken
Comments