The Bu Alev
O my lord Tariq
Sun of my Fire, Throne of my house
First born son of my Caliph, my king
Loved of the woman who called you son
He to whom the mountain granted gifts
Whom I see when I look to the sky
Whom I gave my heart and endless love
My prince, my warrior, my blessed Tariq
You rose up from your place and stood strong
With your cousin and countrymen you leaped on to your destiny
O twisted fate reveals your father, my Caliph, to be foul
You caught and laid low the Storm Tyrant
You toppled the throne of despair and sought out the corruptor
Two you witnessed and one you spoke; where is the justice Tariq?
Where is the justice for those lost in the darkest night of storms?
My prince was not content to rest
Tariq, your valor shines through the sand!
What has made sand into your fine glass?
What has made you seek the Speaker's path?
What has made you want to bathe in fire?
What has made you build a box of guilt?
What has made you kill my king, your father?
What has made you bleed the royal throne?
What has made you the specter of glass?
What has made you take our fate to heart?
My prince, my prince, o my fiery prince
My sun, my loved flame
Summit of my black mountain yonder
Light of my dark eyes
The poison winds are not blowing, Tariq, yet your father dies
He had not eaten fire, Tariq, yet he burned from within
The yellow snake had not punctured him, yet his white body swells
In my breast, I knew him foul, tyrant
I cannot see our future, my prince
Tell me, Tariq, about our future
If you will not, I shall praise you, Tariq, as I burn with flame
You learned as a child, suckling from tales
To speak of the Thousand Suns and flame
To seek forgiveness for your kinship
To let no tyrant poison the sand
To sear away the corruptor's gift
To make the land whole once more, you love
May your flame grasp curse those who betray
My one prince is not to be seen, and my heart is one fire
Tell me what has happened to my prince
Or I shall curse you, my tyrant king, as I burn with fire
What caused Tariq to flee from the Throne?
What happened to the Caliph we knew?
Why did the fabled three aid Tariq?
What caused storms to come and dust to end?
O my lord Tariq,
The mountain's chosen, the living flame
Prince of the sands, fire of my heart,
Loved of the people now, but not then,
Slayer of king and kin, your father
Who should trust you, betrayer of blood
Who should love you, toppler of the Throne
My prince, my warrior, my blessed Tariq
To you I owe everything my prince
Ghaliya says duty drives you, justice guides all your actions
Shihab speaks of the madness behind the Throne, madness of power
Hasim dances, his shadow sings loud
O the dust was thick! O people were claimed by sickness and death
O my king! Do not admit the guest!
O my king! Do not trust this man!
O my king! His whispered claims hold only corruption and shame
Do not send me west! Do not force me!
Do not make me grab the purest storm
I will not fail you, though I loathe you
I will bring you the painted lightening
I will bring you the living world man
Would that Tariq was my Caliph
Tariq would not betray our morals
Tariq would not make us choose between our home and our virtue
The end to these beings will not be swift. Do not make them bleat
My prince, my prince, o my fiery prince
My sun, my loved flame
Do you know of your father's secrets?
Did your brethren share their dark burden?
Did Ghaliya share, did Shihab beg you, did Hasim give hint?
O Caliph, my king, your need outpaced your head, damning us all
The Three speak of the sounds, the terror that the screams inflicted
The melodic flute of voice severed
The fire of the world man hexing
The spark of innocence flares bright
I curse you, my king, you snuff their flame
I curse you, my king, you stole their hope
I curse you, my king, you cursed their life
My prince, my flame, you give us our soul
Sands scour the crimes of the father, a blank slate for the son
My prince, carve your name
Sear it in the obsidian rock
Slash it in flame upon our hearts, prince
Tell us, my prince, of your compassion
Speak of the secrets of the painted man, the secrets of flame
Speak of your crafted chest of atonement, your whispers of truth
What did he whisper in blood, my prince?
What did world man speak in laughter?
What did the Three learn from you, my prince?
Why were you gone from the Throne so long?
O my lord Tariq,
Light of my fire
Your brave actions betray your knowledge
Your brilliant flame dimmed by their deeds,
The wick burns with your resolve, my prince
Singular fire of the mountains
Sun of the Desert
The Three add to the ark of lament
With dragons in the sands and shadows in the hills, you lead
Ghaliya sings of your demise, my prince, for her lost cousin
You speak to the ill and old Tariq
Spider tales, womanly lies, Tariq
Dust of the past surrounds you, my prince
Falling water did not soothe the scorched souls of a parched people
Mistrust was replaced with your kind deeds
O my prince! Your fire is our flame
O Tariq! Your quest is our flame
Seek the bloody-eyed woman, my prince
Find the woman who speaks of your fate
Three who thought it could not be done, my prince, hope has been restored
Bleeding faces will not stop Tariq
Flame and ash veins will not stop Tariq
Her voice of death did not make you flee, my prince, nor her vile touch
What questions did your heart make you speak?
What was her answer to you, my prince?
My prince, my prince, o my fiery prince
Champion of Fire
Conqueror of the Kuthat summit beasts
Renewal of eternal fire
Intonations of fate do not shake the feet of the true
Declarations of death do not shape the path of believers
Justified in flame
Follow what has come before, believe
Three and one shall become but one
Creatures of bone and flame dwindle before you, my fiery prince
Plagues of fire and ash cease crawling forth
Trials do not cause fear
Turning North, alone, seeking the glass
Without fear, my prince, marching to flame
Will the curse of your father bear fruit?
Will your blood prove your downfall, Tariq?
Will the moving sand stop for my prince?
Nine weeks of searching ever leads on
Ghaliya would not leave you, my prince
Shihab is loathe to leave you, Tariq
Hasim would bathe in blood for my prince
What will you do when the locusts swarm?
Can you supplicate yourself in sand?
Will you find the Speaker's path of light?
Are you able to hear the darkness?
O my lord Tariq,
Fire specter of eternal sand
Master of the fated moving glass
Supplicating yourself before the sand to hear the darkness
The light sounds bright in your ears, my prince
Hidden voices like a lover's touch
Drawing toward the mountain peak, onward to the tower on high
Lay your carven box of grief upon the cacophonic ground
The swarm caresses you
Liquid shining with the truth of sight
Whispered words of intent speak the truth
A Thousand words speak of tales and deeds
A Thousand suns burn away the night
O prince! He speaks of your father's fate
O prince! Your deeds must be recounted
O prince! The fated glass is thankful
Warming visions fill your mind and confront your fiery path
Flame does not fear death
Horrors never seen arise from sand
Fallen tribes wielding vile spear banners
Marked with tales of death
Terrors of shadow pouring from stone
Councils of men wreathed in endless dark
Paths of death lead only to more death
Will you climb that stony mount, Tariq?
My prince, my prince, o my fiery prince
Herald of Flamelight
Victor over the Corroded Maw
Slayer of the Husk
Twisted visions revealed true, my prince
O! Bandits do not know you, they seek to steal your life, my prince
O! Shame is taken and kindness is given to them instead
O! You spare their life, my prince, you give them purpose for their crimes
Bandits become heroes for you now
Driven to reforge themselves in flame
They will chant your name, guarding their homes
Restless desert shadows chant nothing
Overcome with desire to feed
Former allies have become your foes
Walking dead that carry lost faces
Their kings hold Court in the dying flesh of the desert fire
Were they surprised when the flame surged forth?
Did they thrash about in searing death?
The task is not yet finished, my prince
Our love carries you onward, higher
Tears for your fallen kin suffuse your box with unending grief
Water to bind the fire's passing
What was it about that hold, my prince?
What gave rise to the foulness, Tariq?
The putrid keep of corrupt paintings
O my lord Tariq,
Fire of my heart
Voice of the people's untended flame
Endless foes dispatched by your prowess
Ghaliya is proud
Your weapons shone brighter than the sun
Shihab bears no shame
Your presence was as the coming dawn
Hasim's shadow smiles
Swords, clubs, and knives now cracked, with your spear you bleed your way upstairs
Three mouths stood open at the summit
Hungry jaws ready to devour
Fangs find flesh and darkness seeks to enter and poison lifeblood
The whirling spear renders them toothless
Choking shadow flows from spoken words
The spear disperses all gloaming death
You raise the box to Heaven's Throne and speak of a Thousand Suns
Your dying breath captured by the box
The Throne speaks back with Heaven's answer
O! Grief answers lightning with fire!
This storm is your storm, my prince, drink deep the molten gold blessings
Grief becomes new hope
Your wish has become the truth, my prince
You are one with the desert, the flames
Lead the people forth, Tariq, the sand's fire, the Molten Sheik