Ů sa dorken na’aaůlor kenropfehli
And I remember well in the distant realm of memory…..
Listen well, Child of Star and Child of Tree, to the youngest tale in the Cycle of Moon Myths. This is the last tale that humans know was told by the Tarmian folk for, with this tale, the last of the Tarmi veiled themselves from the World of Man, knowing that the time was not yet come for humanity to truly live the mystery.
It has been over a millennia since the Apostate had conjured upon the Dol-Princess and her Prince Thiyennen the Bloodlust, thus planting a seed of distrust between human and Tarma.
And now the Apostate had suggested that the Tarmi were the Fallen Ones so often mentioned in the Eastern Legends of humanity, and they would bring only grief and woe to the good people of the world. Days were dark indeed and the people began to live in fear of the ancient Dalni and the Teachers who answered to them. The Tarmi retreated to the mountains and forests of Europa. They abandoned Khemeth, for it was awash in confusion and strife, the kind they were unable to quell or cease altogether without looking like the tyrants the Apostate portrayed them to be. Much anger was directed at the Tarmian progenitors of Khemeth. The old symbols could no longer be read and were held in contempt by the humans who dwelt there still. But the Apostate read and understood the history of the Ancients, and he learned of the Twin Force of futility known only as Belien Tuthalidon.
And, from the fortress of temples and chapels contained in what was once Troy, the Apostate spread rumours that the Tarmi had brought with them the undying evil of which they themselves were an intrinsic part and worshiped without question. And they held humanity in thrall with their blasphemous teachings.
“See ye the true power of the Tarmi as they lurk in the night, feeding upon the blood of your Kith and Kin,” he proclaimed, using Kelat, Thiyennen, and their Vampire Hive as examples of his twisted truth. “They are indeed Satanspawn, born of their black gods. They fell to Earth by their own admission, these fallen angels, with the stain of evil tattooed upon their very spirits. They wish to enslave us with their magicks! The Bible says suffer not a Witch to live. Can we passively sit by and let these alien creatures take over the lands rightfully ours? No! I say no!”
And, to the shock of the Tarmi, more and more people began to believe in the Apostate. He built armies of Holy Men who marched throughout the country converting the folk to hate and fear the Tarmi and their human followers.
A great hopelessness fell upon the land for, as the Apostate spoke of Belien, Belien's futility awoke, their dark star a smear far above Eterah, drawing into it the negative adoration of humanity. And Belien Tuthalidon grew thrice stronger than before, being redefined by the words of the Apostate and the blind faith of his followers, and the Twins of Futility struck down Omanola and Thessalonika with plague and starvation. Humans throughout the countryside praised God for this act against the Evil Ones even as they themselves fell to pestilence, while the Apostate smiled, knowing that he had won.
And so the Tarmi of the fields and forests fled Westward toward the sanctuary of Meybhelahn, their human companions fleeing with them. But the Apostate desired the Tarmi utterly destroyed, so he called forth a great army composed of his most devoted servants
The leaves were painted and fell on chill days as the men came from throughout Europe. They were tall and pure zealots, untouched by woman and clad in the white of the Apostate. And they pursued the Tarmian procession, seeking to crush them before they reached Meybhelahn.
Two weeks did the White Army follow the Pilgrims. And it was that on one cold evening, as the Tarmian Pilgrims reached the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the White Army fell upon them. Immediately both Tarma and Human blocked the Gates so that none of the White Army could enter. A great slaughter ensued as the White Army laid waste to the Pilgrims. But the Tarmi would not fight. Through their tears and their terror, the Tarmi sang, returning to the Language of Old.
For it was song that was the first language and would be the last for any sentient being ever conceived in Existence to utter or to hear.
And Meneterah heard their beautiful music, and tasted their blood upon Her bosom, and She wept for what was lost. Now, it was always said that when people can hear the Earth cry, great and terrible things occur, for the Earth is our Mother and weeps always for Her children in times of joy as well as in times of sorrow. Eterah's weeping was heard throughout the land. The White Army ceased their purging to stop and listen to the ethereal weeping.
Never before had such an incredible sound been heard amongst the mortals of the Earth.
A heavy full moon illuminated the tragedy below. It was the first Moon of Autumn in the year 762 c.e. And as the Earth Mother wept, the blood of the slain ones rose in torrents and bathed the Full Moon. Before the Pilgrims and the White Army there appeared the Mother Mnemiva, Starry Kessilon, and Dark Vaadel, Mistress of Death.
Kessilon, Patron Goddess of the Tarmi, drifted to the Pilgrims and, enveloping them with starlight, sang. But Vaadel hovered over the cringing White Army, paralysing them with Her terrible beauty and the promise of swift and terrible vengeance.
Mnemiva spoke and Her voice was as a song:
"Ye of Eterah, remember always what it is that thou hast beheld on this night ~ the Night of the Blood Moon ~ for this ends the Age of Wonder, where Human and Tarma lived in harmony and magick. The Tarmi and their people shall pass from this realm to a place where only the faithful may someday follow. Humanity must relearn what it has lost under the dominion of the Apostate. But know this, o ye followers of Futility and Fear: the Full Moon before the Festival of Summersend shall forever be named Luma'Rhos, the Blood Moon, to remind thee of the Age thou hast ended with thy swords of hatred and spears of distrust. It is to remind thee that no one ever kills for God, but for those who deify themselves for the sake of power over others. With this crusade, thou hast sealed the fate of thy kind to always walk in darkness and fear, to be once-borne, to never see the Mantle of the Universe save by My Grace. Go ye back to the Apostate and tell him that his reign shall thrive for now, but that the Blood Moon shall loom yearly as a promise that My Children shall return to replant the Groves and sing to the Spirit which embodies All."
Mnemiva bade Vaadel release the White Army and they ran screaming and weeping into the hills, dropping their weapons as they fled.
And, as Mnemiva turned to the Pilgrims, Kessilon opened the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the Blessed Isle of the Tarmi.
"My Children, My Kinsfolk," Mnemiva whispered. "For thee Luma'Rhos shall represent thy fallen comrades martyred here by those grown blind to thy beauty. It shall herald a time when the Faithful may reach thee, for it will be when Luma'Rhos shines that soon the Veil shall grow thin and the Gates shall be revealed to those who can See. Welcome those who remember Our Ways, for it shall be these stray away children who may pave thy way back to this realm in some future bright with music and magick. But for now, go ye into Meybhelahn, be safe and happy, for the Andera love among thee and within thee always."
And so, under the moon awash with their blood, the Tarmian and Human Pilgrims entered into Blessed Meybhelahn ne'er to return until Humanity reclaims our beauty, our magick, and our Inner Song. So look ye to the Blood Moon, the full moon of October. The Veils grow thin and, in the Darkness, there is a Song.