Wight of the Nine Worlds


I welcome thee free spirit, which thou shalt come with an open heart, open mind and an open soul, for what you are about to read can only be understood by the wise who are eager to learn and to embrace the roots deep and forgotten in the hearts of the free people of Europe, by accepting who you are and where your roots lie, is half way into the great road of life. We will journey unto where our spirit takes us with the knowledge we gained. Learn and teach.

Princess Piki - Part I

Princess Piki

Part I

Of myths and legends is the history of a nation built. The lore preserved in memory and passed down by speech as the younger generations around the oak tree listen to the Elders. Such myths were once true events that with the passage of time and the lack of magic in our daily lifes, leaves doubt in mortals' hearts, as age grows, it will be utterly filled with emptiness.
The tale of our beloved queen Niniär is of such likeness, and indeed she was loved by many before her shimmering glance struck King Arävar's heart.

Niniär Anon Rabødja was her name, the granddaughter of Eimir the noble of Vengoso in the western costal region, south of the Tankuí falls. She was a beautiful child with a very naive look, her hair was of the color of dried blood and the smelting copper, glittering brown eyes, piercing with gentleness in everyone's hearts. She could often be found wandering off, barefoot, dancing among the tall grass and when not doing so, she sat on the edge of the forest naming every plant and wild creature she could set her eyes upon. She always woke up with the sun and would lie down with the stars. As often as the light of the day covered the land, she was the joy of all those who lived in the region and heard her merriment. But such mirth would not last very long, for the King of that time was no other than the greedy King Dárius the ruthless and he and his squint-eyed southern nobles gazed upon every land that smelt like richness. Eimir whose glory waxed as times darkened, was one of the first nobles to fell prey to the ambicious hand of Dárius. Such lands had rich soils and Eimir and his people produced wine, linnen, wool and cattle, but the real wealth of the land was neither of these in Dárius mind, it was in fact what the roots of the near mountains held, Silver and Gold.
Emir, dauntless but old, lived in bitter disappointment and grief for his two daughters were as greedy as King Dárius and had already married two of the southern nobles, one of his sons was already dead, fighting against the constant invasions from the south, and all that was left of Emir's family was his other two sons who work hard everyday but were not peerless warriors like their deceased brother. His house was falling apart but the only joy he had was in his granddaughter Niniär the daughter of Ajmir, it was she that always lifted Emir's spirit. In the last days of his House, regardless of the evil which was emerging in the south, he spent his days watching Niniär grow as she became a beautiful woman. She sat astride the horse wearing a pale-green gossamer dress, her reddish lips were soft and often wore a hint of a smile, she was indeed her grandfather's joy, but the inevitable was coming to his door, even admonished by his armsman, Emir would not listen, all he cared about was having the love of his granddaughter.
From the endless houseless hills to the south the sky was veiled with smoke and flame, a sign of the baleful haunting of the southern nobles and King Dárius, under the shadows of the mountains to the east of Emir's lands, came they at last and would not depart till they got what they came there for, the underground wealth of Emir. Some sort of misconception was clearly at work that day, thought Emir, but the greedy mind of Dárius could only think of the Silver and Gold concealed from him in the depths of the mountains, even after Emir told him countless times that his only wealth left was his granddaughter Niniär. Thus, Dárius told Emir that he came there to take Emir's wealth, and if Niniär was indeed the old man's only richness, so it would be she that he would take. He gave her a cursory glance and she was filled with uneasiness, her hands were bound and she sat on the horse and grimaced with pain. Swiftly she was taken from Emir's sight and his lands were pillaged and burnt. Emir died soon after, filled with grief, for his only joy was taken away from him.
Niniär rode with the horde of Dárius to the southeastern dreary forests of Lürnothil. In the air wheeling, the ruinous ravens were croaking, in the border of the woods the wolves howled and from among the darkness of the trees a cold keen wind blew. The sun was swallowed by the gloomy night. What would become of Niniär? The world at her feet was torn asunder and her joy too was taken away from her, she was now descending upon the murky endless aisles of fate...

To be continued...

Arith Härger

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