The Healer Book - The lost Chapter(The Lightkeepers’ Lament)

[Intro - "The Storyteller’s Fire"] [Harpe celtique, vent lointain, feu de camp qui crépite] [Voix grave, comme un conteur] Gather ‘round, children of the dusk, For tonight, the wind sings of a time long lost. In the days when Primandort was young, And the sky wept stars like tears of gold... There walked the Lightkeepers. [instrumental] [Verse 1] [Harpe, violon, voix douce et mystérieuse] They wove the dying stars’ last light, Into threads of hope, into songs of might. With every note, a wound would close, With every hum, the dark would freeze. But the price they paid was more than gold— A voice, a soul, a story untold. [Chorus] [Chœurs, harpe, percussions tribales] Ohhh, hear the Lament of the Lightkeepers’ cry, A song to mend the broken sky. Ohhh, Elyria gave her voice away, To keep the dark from Primandort’s day. Now the wind hums what the stars once knew, The Lightkeepers’ Lament... for me and you. [instrumental] [Verse 2] [Violon, flûtes, voix plus intense] The last of them stood on the cliff’s edge tall, As the shadow rose to swallow all. She sang the song that none could hear, A melody of love, a shield of fear. The dark it trembled, the dark it broke, But Elyria’s voice... was lost in smoke. [Bridge - "The Ancient Tongue"] [Chœurs en langue inventée (inspirée du gaélique ou du latin), harpe en arpège] Lúmara solara, stellae morientur, Nox aeterna, lux vincit umbra. Elyria vox, in ventum abii, Primandort... lux aeterna. [instrumental] [Final Chorus] [Tous les instruments : chœurs, harpe, violon, percussions, synthés atmosphériques] Ohhh, hear the Lament of the Lightkeepers’ cry, A song to mend the broken sky! Ohhh, Elyria gave her voice away, To keep the dark from Primandort’s day. Now the wind hums what the stars once knew, The Lightkeepers’ Lament... [Voix chuchotée] For me... and you. [instrumental] [Outro - "The Echo Remains"] [Harpe seule, vent, feu de camp qui s’éteint] [Voix du conteur, murmure] And so, the chapter fades from sight, But listen close... on the summer’s night. When the wind howls through Primandort’s trees, You’ll hear the Lament... on the breeze. [Dernier accord de harpe, comme un soupir]