Songhata's First Battle: Part II

A woven scroll passed down among the Children of Echoes, telling the legend of the hero Songhata five hundred years ago in his youth.

Just as many sages of this world need not be of high birth,

Songhata's parents' blood was never stained by ancient royalty.

Ancient legends recede like dark mine-salt rivers never to return;

flashing truths like rock-crystals are told by poets.

How Songhata was born—each has their own account.

Friends would polish it; enemies have no graceful praise-songs.

What were his parents' names, of which tribe?

Even asking the three pale moons' ghost-light yields no result.

Ballads say Songhata was born of the morning star's gift;

his mother was not beautiful, his father had no strong body,

but the star of hours that looks down on all cares not for mortal beauty;

weaving heaven and earth's fate is the eternal great task and duty.

When Songhata was young, the Children of Echoes were ruled by Mbande;

Mbande black as jade was mistress of mine and gem;

she chose young Songhata as the tribe's warrior.

That great hero and miner—his story begins here.

Thus the boy Songhata began a miner's life;

the mountain-opening hammer seemed larger than his body.

Yet the strong boy swung the hammer in the mine like wind,

startling the warriors into crying "The mine will collapse!"

"Haha, brothers, sisters, do not fear!"

"It's only my hammer calling the gale—clatter, whoosh!"

Songhata swung and chiselled into the mountain, the haft grinding sparks;

all saw and rejoiced and feared, and let him take the champion's laurel!

Then after matriarch Mbande returned to the Night God's dream-embrace,

Songhata had grown into an extraordinarily valiant young man.

On the night of electing a chief, Songhata left the tribe alone;

though tribal champion, he sought no power—

he wished to find proud proof of being a Child of Echoes,

and so resolutely set out on an adventure to a far foreign land;

his zeal was misunderstood by the clan as a fleeing traitor…