The ancient hall of Albalone
lies ruined, formless blocks of stone
covered up by roots and briar
Fell Albalone, White Keep of Fire.
Broken pillars, scraping sky
amidst the elms that, blackened, lie,
Beyond the mountains of the Ridge,
past the trees of Calvaredge,
beyond the icy Carcaross,
and Dragon’s Bane, and Fenning-Cross.
There lie the stones of Albalone,
smooth as skin and bare as bone,
where dwelt the Elves in times long past,
beyond the snow of Lucien’s Pass.
Eryndor, as legends say,
stole the sun, for fear of day,
and locked her up in dungeons deep,
in Albalone, the Elven-Keep.
Locked away, sun-maiden fair
with fiery starlight in her hair,
in her eyes shone brilliant light.
The earth was plunged in endless night.
The Star-King, king of Dark and Death,
now ruled from Sea to Halbereth,
hemmed by mountains North and West,
and roamed by one who would not rest.
The Second Son, the Dragon-Prince
loved but one, and loved none since
Brought the sun to Albalone,
and left again, yet left alone,
still haunted by star-shining eyes,
a stony heart, an age of lies,
and full of darkness, left to roam
a vagrant Prince without a home.
He wandered far, and farther yet,
seeking naught but to forget,
yet high above, the stars still shone,
a mem’ry, though the light was gone.
He hurried, why he could not say,
and wandered long a weary way
and came again to Albalone
his heart within, yet never home.
Deep below the castle’s halls
The towers high and tow’ring walls
Below the basement, deep and dim
Lay ancient prisons, grave and grim.
So many mortals, locked away
Have suffered here, day after day
in lightless cells, so far below
the bravest men dare not to go.
Nightmares here, instead of dreams
wake those who sleep amidst the screams
Only torchlight, in the murk
shines into shade where shadows lurk.
T’was here the dragon-prince returned
the darkest depths where torches burned
amidst the screams of fear and pain,
the dragon-prince met sun again.
Reunited, Sun and Sky,
amid the screams of those who die
crouched in darkness, hand in hand,
and voices low, they formed a plan.
The shining sun, locked in the night
filled the deeps with burning light,
With magic strong, she set aflame
wood, and stone, and steel the same.
Burning now, with brilliant light,
Sun and Star took up their flight
And far below, the darkest depths
Burned stone to flame where flame once slept
Lit up to the fiery stars
Melted iron, beams and bars
the tortured souls of Albalone
Fled aflame, or burned to bone.
Second Prince, you so despise
the light of fire in your eyes,
burned to dust, your only home
you shed no tears for Albalone,
You shed no tears for those who die
In the fires that scorch the sky.
The Dragon Prince became the dawn
and with the Sun, bore ever on,
Bringing life where once was death
from sea, to Ridge, to Halbereth,
brought back the day, defeated night
Sun and Sky in endless flight.
Yet deep below, the darkness sleeps
Below the stones of Elven-Keep,
And legends say, Death will return
to dim the Earth—and watch it burn.