The song made Covenant quiver, as if it concealed a specter which he should have been able to recognize. But Atiaran's voice enthralled him. No instruments aided her singing, but before she had finished her first line, he knew that she did not need them. The clean thread of her melody was tapestried with unexpected resonances, implied harmonies, echoes of silent voices, so that on every rising motif she seemed about to expand into three or four singers, throats separate and unanimous in the song.
SRD loves music! But he doesn't just have beings in his books love music too, he gives music the highest position. Kevin's Lore depends on singing for just about every act of power we witness. And most important, the Forestals!But Findail did not begin his tale at once. Instead, he lifted his eroded visage to the stars, spread his arms as if to bare his heart, and raised a song into the night.
His singing was unlike anything Linden had heard before. It was melodic in an eldritch way which tugged at her emotions. And it was self-harmonized on several levels at once, as if he were more than one singer. Just as he occasionally became stone or wind or water, he now became song; and his music arose, not from the human form he had elected to wear, but from his essential being. It was so weird and wonderful that Linden was surprised to find that she could understand the words.
And when Covenant meets Caer-Caveral in TWL:A shimmer of music rippled his sight. When it cleared, he saw Caerroil Wildwood walking toward him across the greensward.
The Forestal was a tall man with a long white beard and flowing white hair. He wore a robe of purest samite, and carried a gnarled wooden rod like a scepter in the crook of one arm. A garland of purple and white orchids about his neck only heightened his austere dignity. He appeared out of the gloaming of the Deep as if he had stepped from behind a veil, and he moved like a monarch between the trees. They nodded to him as he passed. With every step, he scattered droplets of melody about him as if his whole person were drenched in song. His sparkling voice softened the severity of his mien. But his eyes were not soft. From under his thick white brows, a silver light shone from orbs without pupil or iris, and his glances had the force of physical impact.
I'm surprised the <I>Elohim</I> aren't described much as the Forestals, but about Daphin, it says, "Her voice also was music...", and they all basically sang everything. And then there's those damned bells that drove Linden crazy!The man was tall and strong, and robed in whitest sendaline. In his hand, he held a gnarled tree limb as a staff. Melody crowned his head. Music flowed from the lines of his form in streams of phosphorescence. His song was the very stuff of power, and with it he cupped the night in the palm of his hand.
It would seem that the greatest, purest power is music. I'm pretty happy about this!!!
Yep, good ol' C... sometimes CW. We called Caveral CC for a few hundred years, and it always irked him, muttered something about, "Do I look like I play guitar in an 80s hair band? (really, though, gotta give DeVille credit. he did have a degree from Juliart, I believe).
