The Ulangar: Book II, Part 9

This continues Book II of the epic I wrote between 1991 and 1996. This is the last section in the epic that uses sections of that made-up language.

Lamaraz walked to the village from the plain just outside it

and screamed such words again and again

`OPIS MULUM CONYED SEMYED

MULATOC CONYED EUSOTOCYED'¹

while the people were slayed by his sword and soul

Around and around the globe he flew

spraying all with lethal venom

and burning houses and slaying all

The wingéd snakes of Surthur's realm would he have saved

they touched not him and then they died

and Ulangar was lost in the Hell and Heaven

as Tlepolemos' sire from Oechalia lost his mental battle

to Hera and slayed his children and his wife

but ulusum stops naught for reason's whim

He alone remained on the moon

When at last the burning buildings were lost in darkness

Lamaraz came to rest at the feet of the body of Farfein

and lamented such words in song

`ADALUTAG CES UMASALETOC

DE OLEM LAT

EUS MULOD ACTA

LENTUTOD BRUDID BRUDIM'²

After such music had left his throat

and his mouth having been closed

Lamaraz was silent in his mourn

Dawn's rosy-colored fingers fell upon ruined turf

and upon charred remains of cities once grand

and nature had proceeded to regain what was lost

and now twenty-three years later

Ulangar awoke in tears and sweat

cold by nightly frost and scarring dreams uncaring

of the vanity of one man's self image

Thus was Ulangar familiar again with the deed of anger

forged in a black pit of despair and loss

and hammered by the pummeling blows of the sword

and tempered in the fire of huts and mortals dead and dying

Thus the deed remained as strong as steel to memory's faulty way

but if by chance this deed becomes hindered by rust's weakening ability

it would be polished in oil and wool by the immortal flames

which dance unending on that bloody monument of flesh

As Ulangar stood and proceeded to accomplish his morning exercises

he recalled the vision and pushed by curiosity and fate

He tunneled a jaw into the burning ground with magic

and went towards that apex of magic

to find a chest of stony adamantine

and Ulangar created a cavity around this rock

which became his lair and home sweet home

Helethalain sweet Helethalain

To this chamber he in the fashion of Dædalus

who created a labyrinth for heroes to perish in

for that king of the half-bull Minos of Crete

Lamaraz devised a maze for home

and did Ulangar carve from the living stone this same design

passages of twisting corners and warpéd cells for special needs

such as a chamber for experiments

pertaining to the mystic power of herbs and string

where new advances in this mediciney science could be discovered

and also a training ground was provided for

with obstacles and the things which test one's magic of the body

and expand this ability to such great heights

limited by the non boundaries of its potential

Then also were tunneled rooms for bedding

and prisons for binding and keeping

and armories for the housing of spears and shields

and other such implements of weep-wail war

which wretches from one's heart that god called consciousness

which reigns supreme over civilized folk

And so did Ulangar like Vulcan forge the home of god

and with such magnitude did that house envelop Volx

consuming the dwelling of grubs and shrews

while kites in the outer dark did feast on roasted flesh

stunken with decay and death dire

In this two-hundred million hectare landscape

which Ulangar tunneléd with flesh and soul

did he perceive the emptiness filled with future lush ornaments

So Lamaraz traversed that first sphere of the universe

like a worm squirming through the earth

eating the dirt and dust of that dismal element

Or as men crawl through muck and mire

drenched with the blood of friend and fiend and self alike

to advance on an unbeatable foe in mass combat of grand scale

with archers and their grand bows of ivory

and pikemen with their long wands of pointy death

and chariot steersmen and their cars of ferocious hate

and the infantry wallowing in the slime of blood and dirt

which bogs down the fastest messenger whether wingéd or un

Footnotes

1. Translated from Dakish as, "The mentor is not alive; you will not live."
2. Translated from Dakish as:
"My city is dead.
Gods, why have you left?
My sword is gone;
I am left alone again.