The Origin

It had already become day as he opened the big wooden door and stepped out of the shadows The sun had shown behind the eastern forest Bright and warm in a cloudless sky As his eyes closed, he slowly raised his head Gently, the morning wind caressed his face And rustled through his long hair The chatter of the bird had become one with the whispers of the black elders Melding with the rythmic babbling of the little brook which wound its way to the distance behind the humble grange But it has not always been like that... 1700 years ago, during the celebrating of the two moons The enemy forayed and overpowered the villagers under the cloak of darkness Brave men were cut down where they stood in the cold crisp autumn night The ones who still had life in their veins escaped in despair But regathered quickly and formed a resistance Many among them, women and children Only armed with axes, torches and pitchforks And it seemed as if all hope was forsaken...