Title: Broken Diamonds
Author: Ryston Baylor
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Price: 340
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[/center]Broken Diamonds



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[/center] I remember as a young lad in Glenumbra Moors my first Broken
Diamonds holiday. The big noisy festivals I remember very
well -- Harvests' End, Mid Year, New Year, the Emperor's Day.
All of these I have memories of that stretch back before I
became truly aware of the meaning of our celebrating. On the
19th of Frost Fall, every year, my family and I would walk
to a ruined castle in the middle of the wilderness, together
with everyone else we knew in the Moors. Hands clutched in
hands, we would form an enormous circle around the ruins,
and head reverently bowed we would sing a song, the
Sepharve.

 For years, we did this and I never asked why. It is an odd
thing that normally curious children, from my experience,
never ask questions about Broken Diamonds, and adults seldom
volunteer information. Gradually, as we learn about our
homeland through university or the prattling of ancient
relatives, we come to guess and then know the meaning of
Broken Diamonds.

 I cannot be objective as a native of Glenumbra Moors, but
visitors have told me that the sorrow -- more often they use the
word shame -- of the natives is almost overwhelming. There is
a sense that a great and ancient crime still burns in the
conscience of the people of the Moors. Though it did not
happen in our lifetimes, we know that the debt is not yet
paid.

 I refer, of course, to the murder of Her Terrible Majesty,
Kintyra II, Emperess of Tamriel, on the frozen morning of
the 23rd of Frost Fall, in the year 3E 123.

 We do not know the name of the castle where she was held; we do
not know the name of her murderer (though the man who ordered
the murder was her cousin and usurper, Uriel III); we do not
know where she was buried. But our ancestors knew that their
rightful ruler was imprisoned somewhere in their land, and
did nothing to help her. For that, we bear their shame.

 On that morning, when our great-great grandparents heard of
Kintyra's death, all were stricken with horror and regret at
their lack of action. All the people of Glenpoint and
Glenumbra Moors searched out those responsible in every
Imperial castle. They formed barriers with their bodies to
hold the killer within. Flags bearing the Red Diamond of the
Septim family were torn and scattered, and broken diamonds
littered the snow.

 The song we sing every Broken Diamonds, as I mentioned
before, is the Sephavre. I asked everyone in Glenumbra Moor
what the meaning of the song is, for it is in Old Bretic, and
each generation only knows it because they were taught by
their parents. No one knew the exact meaning of the words,
not even the tone and emotion the words can be easily
translated. When I later talked to a scholar who gave me an
accurate translation of the Sephavre, I began to
understand both why our ancestors chose it as the anthem for
the great injustice of the murder of Kintyra II and the sorrow
that still prevades Glenumbra Moors since that dark morn.

 The Sephavre Souls of our fathers, suffer deeply, For you
have led us to the dark time, When our own souls, filled with
air, Allowed ignorance and villiany to thrive In what used
to be our land. Howl, ancestors, howl and bring us Memories
of our conformance with evil. We do anything we can to
survive, Giving up our minds and hearts and bodies We will
not fight, and we will be torn And like flotsam in a
whirling tide We will be forever the agents of injustice But
we will mourn it forever.



 
