Author:

Elowen Thornwhisper, Root-Singer of the Kalion Grove (compiled from ancient oral traditions of the Wood Elves)

Hymn II: The Bloom of Votune in the Age of War

Before the Century War scarred the face of Zin, Votune walked among the Gods as the gentle daughter of fertile union—a child born of Titan essence mingled with divine spark. She was the breath of spring, the bounty of summer, the richness of autumn, and the quiet promise of winter's rest.

Her domains were the turning of seasons, the fertility of the earth, the golden waves of grain, and the wild heart of nature itself. Where She trod, barren fields burst into life; where She sang, orchards heavy with fruit bowed in gratitude. Mortals—especially the fledgling Wood Elves who first sprouted from Titan-ash glades—offered Her the first sheaf of every harvest, and in return She blessed their groves with eternal cycles of renewal.

Yet in the great war between Titans and Gods, Votune stood apart from the thunder of Celestia. She sought to shield the newborn mortal world from the cataclysm, weaving veils of vine and root to protect the fragile shoots of life. For this mercy, or perhaps for defying the merciless tide of battle, She fell. A traitor's blade—some whisper wielded by a God jealous of Her gentle influence—pierced Her heart amid a battlefield turned to mud. As She died, the seasons faltered: eternal winter gripped one land, endless drought another, until the Gods' victory restored fragile balance.

Chronicle IV: The Rebirth Through Azul

Long after the Titans were chained and Comes enthroned upon Mount Celestia, the Wood Elves of ancient Kalion mourned Votune's absence. Crops withered under erratic skies, and the people cried out for their lost mother.

In that age rose Azul, a high druidess of unparalleled gift, whose veins carried the oldest sap of Titan-wood. Through forbidden rites beneath a blood moon—drawing upon the lingering echoes of divine essence scattered in the soil—Azul called Votune back from the void. The Goddess answered, reincarnating not in celestial glory, but in humble mortal-weave: a new form of flesh and leaf, bound to Azul's own spirit or perhaps fully reborn as her. From that moment, the seasons flowed true once more, and the Wood Elves knew abundance again.

Yet this rebirth carried peril. Comes, ever vigilant against divine meddling, tolerated no breach of His Great Edict of Non-Interference.

Lament VII: The Storm of Defiance and the Rooted Punishment

In the era of the Genie King's great invasion—when brass-bound ships of the efreet lords sailed to conquer Stormbrook and enslave its coastal folk—Votune's reincarnated form (whether Azul herself or the Goddess wearing her guise) could not stand idle.

As the armada darkened the horizon, She summoned a tempest of legendary fury: winds that howled through autumn leaves, rains that drowned summer flames, lightning borrowed from distant Celestia, and waves that rose like winter's vengeance. The Genie King's fleet shattered upon the rocks, his ambitions sunk to the deep. Stormbrook endured, its people saved by divine hand cloaked in storm.

Comes' wrath was swift. From His throne He beheld the violation: a Goddess, reborn or not, walking Zin and wielding power directly among mortals. Descending in a bolt that split the heavens, He seized Her new form before She could flee to the groves.

"You have defied the Edict," thundered the Sky-King. "No God shall interfere so boldly again."

With a gesture of adamant law, Comes transformed Her—not to death, but to eternal stasis. She became the Great Heart-Tree of Kalion: a colossal oak of impossible age and girth, its trunk wider than a village, its branches cradling the sky through every season. Her deep roots spread beneath the continents, threading the veins of Zin itself and piercing the veils into the Feywild.

Thus punished, yet not destroyed. For even in this form, Votune endures. Wood Elves yet commune with Her through the Heart-Tree, stepping between roots to traverse the Fey in instants—portals of living wood that bloom only for the faithful. Her leaves whisper prophecies of harvest and hardship; Her sap heals the blighted earth.