The Language of Birds
[If there ever existed anything like an Ayleid creation myth, it has been lost to the passage of time and the Marukhati destruction. This text, found in the margins of one of the Piukanda scrolls, probably comes closest: it is thought to be a children's fable, shedding a modicum of light on the origin of the Ayleid.]
In times past we were as the birds. The birds lived on an island which was eight; it was surrounded by a lake that was as if eight; it was surrounded by a jungle that was as if eight.
The birds knew no arts; they knew no crafts. They did not build; they lived under starlit benevolence. They knew no fire; they were warmed by blessings (eight). They did not write; they knew not speech; they knew to sing pleasing songs; they knew to listen to the stars; they knew to repeat them.
There on the far shores they were the people of Man. They were many (eight) and ruled in the jungle; the jungle was of their design; the jungle is loathsome. They knew to command the serpents of the lake; they knew to implore the beasts of the jungle; which they did by craft and not art.
The people of Man hated the birds and conspired to destroy them with fire. Many times (eight) they besieged the island which was eight; many birds were killed; the birds knew no arts; they knew no crafts.
Then came the Pilot; he sailed on a white ship. The Pilot was called Torval; because he was a seeker and he came from the west. The Pilot was charmed by the friendly bird people who welcomed him; they sang in a voice that repeated whatever they heard; not understanding.
To thank them for their hospitality the Pilot taught the birds the secret of language. Language is a great thing; language is the greatest thing. Language means all arts and all crafts; and all of writing and the alphabet; and all that can be said and sung; and all of culture and civilization; every white tower and every ceremony; theories and philosophies; the work of many and the work of the great that did cause empire to spring forth and bind the jungle and its unworthy creatures; how to make lights that are stars and spears that one may wield in starlit splendor; to build altars to the gods and ancestors (eight); to discern what is worthy and what is unworthy; and transmute unworthy matter; to build; to rule; to speak power; to be Ayleidoon.
The birds were very happy with the great gift of the Pilot who was called Torval. They gave him a great gift of the island which was eight; they made promise of friendship and loyalty in the new language.
And with language the birds were much stronger than the people of Man; they knew how to kill the serpents of the lake; they knew how to charm the beasts of the jungle better and set them against the people of Man. And the birds were happy; they built many houses (eight) on the land which now belonged to them; and this was Ayleidoon.
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An Ayleid children's fable, giving a different perspective on their origin. Probably something for scholars and Ayleid enthusiasts. It is stilted and weird, in part because the translator didn't do a very good job, but also to highlight the weirdness of the Ayleid: weirdly emotionless, ascetic, somewhat sociopathic.
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