Written by Aelyzabeth von Thors
More than two thousand and four hundred million years had passedsince the first living beings stirred beneath the ashen seas of creation.The world had transformed beyond recognition.The land, once but frozen rivers of molten clay,had become meadows and emerald forests—the first green breath of Earth itself.And when the shadow of humankind first fell upon this land—a land that would one day be called the Valley of the Rhine—the Earth trembled, for the children of the sacred sea had risen anew.
They were the Hunters of the Northern Winds—their skin hardened by the frost,their eyes sharp as the hawk's,their hearts unbending before the will of nature.Though the weapons in their hands were but sharpened spears of wood,the flame at their tips bore a will that no darkness could quench.They wielded not mere tools of survival,but the symbols of awakening—the first stride of civilization upon a nameless earth.
They built their dwellings by the riverbanks,anchored by faith in the soil that granted them life.They hunted, they sowed, and they worshipped the sun at dawn.And when the night descended,the music of wooden harps wove through the flames beneath the stars.Amidst that sacred fire, they forged something far greater than the spear or the axe—they forged Language.
From the hands and heart of an elder came forth the first written symbols of humankind—Latinus, the script of the ancestors,destined to give birth to what would later become the Latin letters of the civilized world.In those symbols were inscribed their oaths, their affections, and their wisdom,passed onward to generations yet unborn.They did not merely speak—they created, they dreamed, and they civilized through the art of words.
I, the descendant of that venerable bloodline,when gazing upon the veil of ages long past,am overwhelmed by the grandeur of my forebears—those who summoned light from the mire,who stirred reason from the deep abyss,and who carved the first letters of humankind upon the stones of the Rhine.
Yet in this modern age,where men drape themselves in the pride of false knowledge,I hear the voices of timid scholars—daring to claim that our ancestors were dull, witless creatures,standing upright only by accident.
Thus I proclaim, in the name of all my lineage—that ignorance does not dwell in our ancestors,but in the hearts of those who have forgotten their origin.
Let the winds of the Rhine bear witness:that humankind of that age forged the letters of wisdom,kindled the fire of civilization,and engraved the honor of their blood upon the face of the Earth for all eternity.
For within every line of Latinus flows the spirit of mankind—the Courageous, the Hunter, and the Enlightened—Masters of this World.
Thus ends Chapter A-V.