A Story of Bruna

As dictates the Violet Learner in land thought:

In the vast land of the Two Crowns there was waged a terrible war When sacred Peace had been broken On planes and fields of the Sekmid a violence awoken Mursziv and her gallant-horde of black-robed Knights Kirn and his platoons of shadows-treading Spies Clashed upon the peak of Kirisha’s Victory black against white Both with blades sharp to slice and hoping to in blood-ritual right

Weapons long rang against curved steel and screams were heard On a night where the glorious stars were dead When Mursziv the Black cut off Kirn the White’s head She held it aloft in the midst of a shadowed battlefield As new light, black in her image, shined down upon her The survivors of inhuman slaughter knelt bearing grit teeth And Mursziv the Black Crowned said: ‘You are mine who are beat!’

The Black had her property rounded up, made toil in sweat amidst seas of dried blood Under Sun and Moon as to her bidding

She sat on a new-forged chair, awaiting her counsels on a gloomy night’s morning Wishing to announce, to proclaim her personal gift as per her blood-coursing Arrived had Karnar son of Kirn; Sint daughter of Serah

Mursziv stood up and outstretched her long hands Saying: ‘And here it come that Bruna stands!’

Deacon of Zoknoraa