The Longing of the Winterborn Children

By Unknown Author
This was written by one of the several refugees from Athanshala and sung on the road as they travelled in search of a place to call home. It is recorded here by Liissa Sigeing formerly of Athanshala.

When Orcish screams do cross the void

And battles roar below

Our parents in leather strive

In trading hack and blow.

When teeth are bared in effort

As the battleaxes clash,

When blood shall run in rivulets

As storms of Markers lash-

THEN

Ride, children ride! Over ice-plains thunder!

Sweep the fallen to your steeds

And no true Marker’s plunder!

Ride, daughters, ride! Battle cries a’screaming

Sons and daughters bring our parents’ home

To the Labyrinth dreaming!

When storms of Thule lash the mountains

With rivulets of blood,

As battleaxes cleave and bite

Above the brazen flood,

When riven shields are marred with bone

And Skarsind’s heroes fall,

When battles savage raise a score

Mothers and Fathers all-

THEN

Ride, children ride! Battle helms a’sparkle!

Raise the slain to victory

Amidst the foes’ debacle!

Ride, sons oh, ride! Battle shields a’gleaming

Sons and daughters bring our parents’ home

To the Labyrinth dreaming!

When Skarsind fell in latter days

All fading grey and cold,

As hearing Thule screams in our ears

Dimimed our children bold,

When death became a beckoned friend

So welcome to the door,

When we did leave our homely cold

And know we’d fight no more-

THEN

Ride, children ride! Flaxen hair now pleach,

Hold the dying to your breast

The mountain air’s in reach;

Ride, daughters, ride! Your eyes a’mercies beaming-

Sons and daughters bring our parents’ home

To the Labyrinth dreaming!

Sons and daughters bring our parents’ home

To their Labyrinth dreaming.