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/ The Circle That Ate Itself /
Story Bible
The Circle That Ate Itself
525 words
Chapter text
[Verse 1] Käfoozgrag came out of the edge when the world was wet clay. He tore the first thunder-hoof from the ground and clothed the first brod that day. He planted its bones and they grew the plains. From its blood came the seasons, five. From its roar came Narumar, red, and he left us the road, and the drive. [Chorus] Walk until the grass remembers your step. Fight until the wind knows your name. Love until the fire has learned your heat. Then get up. And walk again. [Verse 2] Now Jurgin's brod came down in Etzil in the worst dry we have sung, and they found a spring the drought had missed and the grass around it young. They drank, and that was rightly done. They rested, that was right. Then Firzil came and the herds moved out, and Jurgin's brod sat tight. [Verse 3] The spring was good. The grass came back. Why walk from what is good? So they cut the sod, and then the stone, and then they cut the wood. The first year, walls up to the knee, to turn the thunder-hoof aside. The second year, up to the shoulder. The third, they could not see outside. [Verse 4] And a walker came in Etzil with a dry throat and a horn, and the gate did not come open to her. And the spring went bad by morn. They burned the grass and sowed no seed. They carried iron to the bed. No Fire Seat was lit at dusk. The âzgâ went unsaid. [Chorus] Walk until the grass remembers your step. Fight until the wind knows your name. Love until the fire has learned your heat. Then get up. And walk again. [Verse 5] And the children did not learn the names. And the children did not care. And Jurgin died inside a wall with no pyre and no verse there. They put him in the ground like stone. They put him in, and stayed. And nobody outside those walls had heard from them in days. [Verse 6] Nobody saw the plains take them. The plains don't need to be seen. Aazla came back in the seventh year and there was nothing between the grass and the grass. No wall. No stone. No smoke, and no one there. Only a ring of standing grass and a circle of still air. [Verse 7] We pass it every migration. The herds go round, not through. No horse of ours will enter it. The children ask us to. So fear the stillness, little tusk. Not the storm. Not the spear. The wind will carry a fighting name. It carries nothing here. [Bridge] And this is why we say it out in the seventh Narumar year: because a story that is not spoken rots the tongue that keeps it here. And a brod that holds its stories in is a brod behind a wall. [Outro] Walk until the grass remembers your step. Fight until the wind knows your name. Love until the fire has learned your heat. Then get up. And walk again. Do not stop at the good spring. Do not stop.
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