"NIGHTFALL IN MIDDLE-EARTH"
by Hansi Kürsch
based upon The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien
THE GNOM
As darkness came it brought along silence. Yet silence also
bears madness. Silence surrounds me - a deathly silence.
Caught in the dungeon of my darkest thoughts all the gates
that lead back to the world of light are closed to me. All
hope for release lies behind me, and before me stretches
the mere infinite eternity of Arda. Separated from my Own I
wander the world an outcast. An immortal unrecognized
amongst mortals, drifting aimlessly like a leaf in the
wind. And indeed only the wind truly knows my plaint and
only the sea truly understands my pain. But they as well
have turned away and do not reveal themselves to me any
longer. Tired I am and old, alone I cannot die. On inside
of me lives the Curse which has long survived the Oath.
Yonder the sea buried lies my hope. Like so often in my
life of suffering proved to be the end of a streak of
coincidences. But is it not, that coincidences are the
harbingers of fate? All is predestination, and though I am
but a piece in the turmoil of history I will have to suffer
eternally for the things gone by. Yet I merely followed the
will of the One. I put an end to hope for one and all. The
ragged creature that stands before you like a beggar was
once a nobleman. What you see is a warrior turned into an
immortal graybeard. Wisdom gave way to madness. The voice I
once called my own was more gentle than a mild wind, more
refreshing than the clearest of spring waters. Worn out by
the grief and sorrow the sound of it has altered to thin
and hoarse. Soon, the better it will be to fall silent
forever. There is left to me but nothing. The power of the
word once was mine. But I remain silent when I should have
spoken, and spoke when I should have remained silent. Fatal
words slipped my mouth, and even then, I realized the
finality of my failure, the unavoidable damnation it would
lead to! On the arch of the night sky familiar
constellations begin to fade. Even the blue heavens seem
weary. But the end, the final deliverance I long for is
still far ahead in the future.
DISASTER
Dreadfully and merciless the days of exile ended. Fear
pierced our hearts and brought icy cold. It was night and
no star broke through the cloak of terror. Unbounded
shadows were all around us. Endless grief was followed by
wretched laments from the nearby coasts. But consolation
was out of sight. The once majestic trees stood weak and
dead, extinct forever. The search for the wrongdoers was
lost in the sand. This was the birth of despair, and with
it came suspicion and hatred. In the end it was my kin who
were to complete the triumph of the unholy alliance. I
never was to find out what was spoken in the Council of the
Ring during the hour of disaster, but I believed and
trusted in the words of my father. Truly great he was, in
all things. Nobody else was granted such tremendous skills.
But too hard did he love what he created. Hard enough that,
in the end he would betray himself, his sons and the light
of the world. Far too strong was the fire that blazed in
his heart with no cease. So powerful it ate the body and
soul within. Never before had I known fear. This was to
change when the almost impenetrable cloud of pure evil
invaded our fortress. So strong was the panic that gripped
me and my brothers that escape was the last way out. For
one brief moment I was granted a glimpse at that sinister,
almost unfathomable mass. What I saw took my breath and
taught me fear. Never I will forget the cold, insatiable
gaze of the spider woman, filled with evil emptiness, who
greedily set her opaque, dead eyes upon all the life around
her and its desperate attempt to make a getaway. Aghast I
stared at the tremendous, hopeless void as it turned
everything into rigid, ugly insignificance. Her hairy body
had already taken on gigantic shape. Next to her even the
Dark Ruler seemed small and weak. Afar from our fortress we
dwelt in deep despair, deprived of all possessions. Many of
us cried bitterly for the great king who had lost his life.
The immortal land had just encountered death, and the gems
were lost. And with the gems went our hope. The Black Enemy
of the World, as my father called him, returned home with
booty of great value and had himself proclaimed King of the
World.
THE OATH
A veil of oblivion lies over many things, but clearly do I
recall the day of the Oath. Still my father's words echo in
my mind. So full of glory, wild desire and skillfully
declared they were, they made us raise our swords and swear
the Oath. Now I would, this had never happened. In a fatal
way we conjured up doom. Awaken by his flaming words the
desire for new lands and cruel revenge befell our hearts
with might. In motionless pride I stood when the messenger
of the Master of the Skies bowed farewell to my father.
Nothing, it seemed could hold us back. Even the greatest
amongst the higher spirits shivered with reverence.
THE DEPARTURE
Doomed already we set forth to suffer agony from the day
on. The yearning for deliverance already stirred, while
disaster still lay afar in the distance. Grief we had just
left behind us, but no good would the dark day bring
either. Uncertainty was with every step, but our pride made
us go on. Excited we were and our hearts still filled with
the words of a lonely man whose soul was all ablaze. Never
had it been easy to look into the deep and ugly abyss of a
dear friend's or kinsman's soul, just so one would realize
its devastating consequences. Yet that abyss undeniably
exists in every one of us. No burden weights heavier than
the awareness that nothing and nobody is without fail.
Then, I could not understand those who followed my father's
halfbrother. Oh, how I hated those among my kin! At last
the major part of our folk gathered under the Banner of
Stars, when only a seemingly small group followed the
banner of the righteous king. Little love I shared for my,
oh so noble kinsmen, even when the sympathy of our people
had been theirs. Never did I understand why they went
along. My eldest brother though, seemed full of despair
over the ongoing dispute in our family. Yet it was us who
went off in first line. Our path was to lead into regions
unknown to us, sinister and inhospitable. It would also
lead us finally, into downfall and disaster. But a few of
the deeds witnessed fame and glory, when the lot are
telling tales of sadness and sacrifice.
THE MURDER OF KIN
Red - I close my eyes and see a river of blood streaming
down into the ocean, mingling the clear waters with
innocent red. I open my eyes and look down on hands covered
with blood: the claws of a beast these are! Hideous,
clenched up, murderous. In my dreams again and again I
walk, amongst my Own, heading for the home of the sea
elves. And though I strongly feel that our next steps will
be fatal, I am unable to alter the course of things. My
entire soul is captured by screaming rebellion, but I hold
back and follow unquestioningly... Riders of the white
crest. Dreamers. Harmless, modest, peaceful. Nobody loves
freedom more than they do. Their chanting delights the
dwellers of the oceans as the music of the oceans is to the
delight of the sea elves. Beyond the walls though a storm
is brewing. There the harbour lies in darkness, still
unstained by the stigma of blood. Our pleas to answer to my
father's claims go unheard. Armed and determined we take by
force what is given to us freely. In full armour we go for
the boats, but dancingly the seafaring folk throws us into
the cold waters. As high as our spirits had soared at
first, in the end came devastating downfall. The shock of
the cold waters brushes our anger, hate seethes. The agony
of shame must be revenged - thousandfold. Swords are
swiftly drawn. The battle begins - by no means an ordinary
battle but the murder of brotherhood. Brave, but innocent
men face us defenselessly. From their bodies, their faces
still entangled in the smiles of welcome, flows blood.
Their laughter turns to surprise, surprise turns to fear,
their fear brings awareness at last. Their mourning can be
heard already. The voice of one is followed by many more.
The sea joins their cruelly beautiful lament. This sound is
to haunt us until the end of time. Nothing, no word, deed
or prayer - can ever make good the burden that we take upon
us in this very hour. Our greed for the boats and the
fulfillment of our dreams erases our morals. Cries for
help, cries of agony, cries of death - a scene of bloody
shambles! Noone hurries along to come to the aid of the
children of the sea. For bound by the given word are the
High Spirits. The sea is weeping as the Master of the Winds
reminds them of the old promise. With burning fury and
driven to tears by the injustice done to the dearest of
friends, they dwell hidden in the depths of the oceans,
yearning for revenge. Never has there been a deed this hard
to bear.
THE CURSE
Shadowy memories gather menacingly. I pass through the
mists of the past yet again to live through all this once
more. The lonely figure frozenly standing, awaiting me and
my Own seem like real to me. It is the messenger's powerful
voice which announces our disastrous fate. Sadness and
confusion befall us as we silently listen to Father's wild
retorts. Then, as if in a trance, we slowly move on. Not
once do I turn, though I know that many embark on their way
home, ruefully and humiliated. On and on we wander along
the icy coast. With ice towering, our path becomes more
inhospitable. Under deep black skies, unfriendly winds all
around us, we yearn for the fulfillment of our dreams.
These thoughts guide us, they nourish and warm us. There
still a ray of hope to alter the course of fate. But soon
we were to nip the last bud; silently we are stealing away
from brother and sister. The boats offer little room, thus
the passage will be possible for but a few of us. The Curse
awakens.
BURNING SWANS
Maybe my brother realizes the shame, but he too, remains
silent. Our boats dock and we light-footedly leap into the
shallow waters. For the first time we set foot on what
would be our new land. The swans, pride of a whole nation,
are already afire. Blood-red skies paint the picture of our
dawning ruin. Only the stars light up silvery and look
down, unmoved by all the doings of their people. Now I can
see the pain in my brother's eyes. But my laughter joins
that of the others, when my heart is crying bitterly. I
begin to understand. On the other side of the ocean, our
betrayal is discovered. Those we left behind embark on a
long and arduous journey, driven by only one desire:
Revenge! The Curse takes its course.
HIGHEST GLORY AND DEEPEST SORROW
For the very first time we were to face the enemy. Remnants
of our once glorious and merciful reign still put their
strength in us, thus we easily scattered the meager troops.
Yet, our greatest victory ever was to come with the Battle
Under The Stars. But even in our moment of triumph lay
disaster. Yet again the words of the messenger came true.
In the barren mountains, Father lay down, his body burnt
and broken. One last time his eyes wandered over to the
mighty towers. Symbols of the enemy, they ominously loomed
in the distance. Still I marvel what my father felt when
recognition dawned on him this hour. Could horror and deep
understanding mirrored in his last glance. Why did he make
us renew our oath? One last time did he sacrifice us! Just
when we had sworn the Oath, his fiery spirit left his
broken body. Nothing but ashes was left of the greatest
amongst our people. The howling winds carried them away. My
father returned to the House of Souls, before the nightmare
had even begun.
AGONY, HOPE, AGONY
The ruse we did well realize, alone we were uncapable to
escape the evil intentions of our enemy. My brother was
taken prisoner. Far out of reach he was chained to a rock
in the altitude of the high mountains. Desperate and
exhausted he awaited his salvation which would long fail to
come. The moon rose and suddenly those appeared we had left
behind in the icy deserts. They had met unspeakable pain,
and their march told of a thousand great and unselfish
deeds. Proud and fearless their numerous throng walked
overland. As their leader gave order to hoist his blue
banner, the morning sun rose and painted the early morning
sky a fiery red. Asight the enemy gates they blew the horns
and their mighty sounds shook the fearful towers of the
fortress. As soon as that the Dark Ruler recognized his
enemy, but in this moment of surprise the enemy moved away
unscathed. Thither on we lived separated from our Own, too
much weighted the guilt. With the sun the mortals or
second-born appeared in the east. The children of the sun
slowly wandered towards the light and thus towards our
realm.
TIMES OF GLORY
Brief was the time which brought some soothing to the
wounded hearts of our folk. It would be my cousin who, with
one courageous, noble effort was to free my brother from
his miserable captivity. But how high the price! Accursed
we were, yet we had a home. The Banner of Stars now was the
symbol of our domination. Those days it well seemed to us
that sad times were finally past and gone. Deep friendship
tied us with our kinsmen, those who had never seen the
light of the Blessed Realm. The common enemy we had and for
reasons of trade we had bonded with the dwarves. The
skillful folk never revealed much of themselves, thus they
always remained strangers to me. So we peacefully lived on
in the false belief of being superior to the dark enemy.
And how did we deceit ourselves! Full of confidence we held
control over the land and kept the enemy under siege. My
brothers and I proudly reigned and defended our new lands.
With no worry, we expected the attack of the Dark Ruler.
Easily we would defeat those creatures so full of fear and
hate. The curse seemed forgotten. None of us would still
believe in it. After all, we ruled the land! It dawned on
but a few of us that the storm was likely to return, more
terrifying and cruel than ever before. Thus two of our
high-born princes secretly saw for the building of places
meant for shelter. They never trusted in this peace. Hope,
they felt was something to lie hidden. Their foresight
should prove them wise. One last time we were to decide a
thundering attack of the Dark Ruler gloriously and in our
favor. The Glorious Battle was to strengthen our belief
that we could stand up to the Black Enemy.
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
The siege continued, and still we believed in our own
strength. So we disregarded the signs. The golden Father of
Dragons, still young and far from his later power, had
risen from the depths of the enemy's fortress. Molded in
cruel forges he now met his first humiliation. Again the
heir of the High King made glorious history. Even I
shivered in admiration. It was him who stood by us in
friendship and who had altogether forgiven the past. And
like no other would he be caught in our curse. Like no
other would he suffer from the past.
RUMOURS AND PAINFUL TRUTH
What we had held hidden for so long broke free with no
warning. Again my brothers and I would be condemned.
Suspicion and hate stroke our house, yet it did not disturb
us at first. Driven by cold arrogance the urge to win back
our stolen treasures roamed our minds impatiently, making
everything else insignificant. The growing dismay we met
all around us we answered with weary smiles. Yet, the lot
of it we didn't even notice. Enchanting voices died
whenever I willed to join in with the merry doings of the
forest elves, my voice steady and harmonious. Apparently
unmoved, yet caught in an inner turmoil I went on singing,
all by myself. To me it seemed as if they listened to me in
awe for but a short while and then, secretly stole away
into the safety of the woods. I had no trouble to guess
their thoughts. My voice they certainly loved. The body and
soul it lived in though, they deeply loathed. In this part
of the world our noble language was only spoken secretly.
The language of the murderers of kin.
CHANGES
It was about the same time when, in the faraway woods we
called the Dark Forest, the Son Of Disaster was born. Never
we spoke to one another. Yet we shared the same fate - the
fate of traitors. His every inside longed for light and
love, yet he was to bring nothing but mischief to both.
Under the surface of his noble appearance lay undetected
and well protected the seed of evil, slowly growing. Human
folk appeared, sudden and unexpected. We welcomed our
younger brothers, though we were full of distrust. Too
different to ours, seemed the ways of those, who had joined
us this late. We loved the moon, they worshipped the sun.
But soon we realized that they too, were haunted by dark
shadows. Disregarding, we soon allied. Disaster went its
course.
CHAOS
Panic clutches at me when I recall the walls of fire,
brought over us by bloodthirsty troups! Soon the land was
ravaged and unbound beauty forever gone. Death made good
haul these days. The souls of the mortals embarked on a
journey with a destination unknown. Broken and burned the
bodies of elves lay scattered over the charred wastelands.
Many returned to the House of Souls, to dwell there
bodiless until the end of time. We had lost our home.
Endless was our grief and endless seemed the war. The fires
should not die before the Cycle Of Awakening brought an end
to the deathly winter. Barren and devastated lay the land.
The stench of debauch was to last throughout the year. Then
our last hope was taken away by the message of the bitter
end of the High King. Far late we had learned of his
glorious battle and of the wounds he had inflicted upon our
chief enemy. To his existence our people and even I had
tied our hopes for a better future. It now clearly came to
us how hopeless our situation had become. In each and every
one of us lived a growing desire for our home lands. Yet
all the ways back were denied to us. Our glory waned with
our grief. The colours of nature faded and with them went
our youth. Hither on we seemed but weary and tired. Only a
few deeds of glory to survive the centuries, were
accomplished in those days. The friends of the elves
though, made it to great glory, one of them even achieved
immortal love.
IMMORTAL LOVE - ETERNAL CURSE
The inner yearning for our righteous possessions lived on.
Never it went to sleep and thus turned to poisenous greed.
The pain which we ceaselessly carried into the world
worried us none. As if driven by madness we strove for the
light, only it seemed out of our reach. But suddenly
strange tales of beauty and wonders came and seemed to
promise a turn: "All is predestination, but pure love even
may alter the root of things! High is the price for the
most beautiful child in all the world. Easily the sage
utters disastrous words. But with the slip of a tongue a
many things cannot be made undone. A mortal who reaches for
the stars shall pay with the loss of his hands. But in the
end the dance shall be crowned with success. Horror lies in
heavy dreams, but those who are pure may touch pureness.
Thus the bride may be redeemed, and even death shall never
part the two. Uncertainty shall cease immortality. Never
shall you think little of the power of love." Yes, my
brothers too, had their share in this story. Them as well
had to feel the pain asight of the power of love. Finally,
the Blessed Realm had turned against us. Our lives were
forfeit. Reverence and fear were in us, alone the Oath was
stronger. One of the gems we had long lost, we learned was
not far away from where we stayed. Again arose our desire
to have it back. Needless to say, again disaster came from
it.
HOMELESS, POOR AND BETRAYED
Not one among me and my brothers was granted the
achievement of truly heroic deeds, even though attempts
there had been a many. All of them should fail miserably.
One last time we willed to be ahead of the enemy and moved
against him. Our troops were powerful, but betrayal saw for
our final defeat and divided the two races. Our defeat was
truly devastating. If it was not for the Masked Ones and
their courage we would never have lived through it. Bravely
they helped me and my brothers to escape. Courageously the
dwarves stood against the dragon's breed. Waving their big
battle axes they even drove the Golden One from the
battle-field. They were to pay bitterly with the loss of
their king's life. My cousin, the High King, died in the
hopeless battle as well, and with him went his banner. Also
the three Houses made glorious story, though many lives
were lost in the shamble. My brothers and I were with the
survivors. And so has the Curse...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Hansi Kürsch, a profound admirer of
Tolkien's works, is vocalist, bassist, and main composer of
German heavy metal band Blind Guardian.
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