Before I walked through Middle Earth, before my sails carried me to the islands of Earthsea, before I watched the Dragons fly over the moutains of Pern, I knew Orath. What I knew, however was not the real place. I listened at first only to the silly tales of foolish people. I was young and thought them the true thing. Yet the true thing cannot be completely hidden--even from young fools--for also I learned then of the first Queen. I know many tales now, the truer tales of the real people: foolish and wise, young and old. I know only the middles of their stories, of course. True stories, true lives, begin before the child is born, and echo beyond the last breath. These are the tales from the middle to the middle--pretending to be the beginnings and the endings.
The Greydragn
City
Paths
a letter and poem from the Valderiaan
The
Poems of Mielo Erge
translated from the Kotraban
Walking
Song
translated from the Orathian
Rhetorical Devices
A post prandial elocution
Up
The River Road
a longer story in process
