Prologue Widow’s land

A widow sat by heart fire warm,

Recounting deeds of gods and giant folk.

A wheel spun again the story of the new world,

The great cycle renewed.

A goddess fair and terrible,

Set forth on a journey long.

From the starry sky she came,

With a ship of bone and ice.

Of that vessel of splendor,

The legends of yore spake in reverence.

Of how it rode upon the green aurora,

In the heavens above.

A ship of whalebone made,

From the primordial sea deeps taken.

Beinhvalriss it was called,

The ship of the powers.

Upon the paths of the wind,

She breathed out her name.

Sifjara was she the winter cold,

Whose wings were as the firmament.

To five-eyed king,

The father of giants.

Whose beard was the rolling clouds,

On whose peak the stars rested.

The shore glistened at her landing,

The gentle frost rolled out like a mist.

Sifjara screamed aloud her coming,

The mountains shook in echo.

The king uprooted his rocky dwelling,

Earth trembled in his wake.

As the two spoke sky and earth bended,

Snows rested on the land.

The deal was made,

Into stone it was carved.

No more would giant and god,

Spill their blood in war.

Joined was below and above,

In bond of oath and marriage.

Sifjara spread her wings,

The chill voice was heard.

To the land of the eternal summer,

She flew upon the frigid winds.

Disaster struck the light,

The foundations rent.

The waves arose,

The monsters leaped.

The Rauthara red of hair,

Third of the four sisters.

Went to the land of the giants,

To retrieve the first.

Yet the king permitted it not,

Blows were struck.

Blood spilled into the sea,

Amber was its color.

The cries of the fallen,

Came to the ears of Sifjara.

The gods were roused to wrath,

Filled with wrath was thunder and earth.

Which came with the goddess,

As the winds screeched in agony.

She screamed aloud again,

Her fury rivaled the mountains.

Ice with the giant's blood was tainted,

Frost bit heart and bone.

Sifjara and the king fought bitterly,

The land wailed as in childbirth.

For she was swallowed,

And spat out in avalanches.

The sky slashed like swords,

Severed sinew bled.

Giant's guts spilled,

White skull cracked.

Five blue eyes closed,

Ancient horns were broken.

Victorious were the gods,

Doomed were all their foes.

Knowing well the power of the king,

Sifjara cut the mountain.

Into countless pieces,

That he may never be one again.

So, it came to be,

That his blood was on her hands.

From ice and blood,

Were shaped the Marunnai.

The people of Aeskenia,

The land of the widow.

No maiden was she now,

But a cold decrepit crow.

With bloody hands,

And hanging flesh.

Upon a bed of corpses,

She lies in silence.

Frozen is time and water,

In the domain of the widow.

Yet still she calls her people,

To kiss them into sleep eternal.