The Song of Beginning
The wind swept down bright green leaves, setting them swirling across the ground, while birds perched on the branches, singing aloud.A crowd had already gathered around the whirlwind. Removing their carved wooden avian masks, they made way for an elder adorned in multicolored feathers, who walked with measured steps toward the gale.
The elder extended his hands, and the whirlwind gently enveloped his form; within it, the crisp, clear laughter of a child seemed to echo. A swaddled bundle floated softly into his arms. Together, they chanted in unison:
“Ruinezlix zitalir ti ruinez zen thiweiez (The morning star glimmers at the break of dawn,)
Enfy ti liro uksin enno zi tarlian zen qui (We come in search of the newly born,)
Ennialior saing zen herzeril zi floxn (To bestow our blessings upon the newborn.)
Lynax moz dulan ti skias zi juliak (May the rising sun dispel the darkness of your path,)
Thenfy zen grei dulan zi iliak mes (And guide you onto the right way.)
Dylax moz kwiran zen cydry (May the moonlight watch over you in the dark night,)
Thenfy zen homix cruild zi yurio mes (Shielding you from the cold of loneliness.)
Aginal saliu tienser mizin fera quilix (From ancient and distant realms of mystery,)
Zailor ti fejin ti seril moz (O The Wind of all beginnings,)
Sinir yuzion ains zen grilz fienzior (Blow through the clear, azure sky,)
Xienz moz thenfy zen wudolix thanridil zi floxn mes (May They grant you a lifetime free of care.)
Tweiz ti glanz sor (O Mother Earth,)
Zysen zen slief nuz quvi zi floxnes (Offer your selfless love to your child,)
Xenfy roisil entur moz (May Your tender embrace)
Filnezdil zi crydenci mes (Enfold all sorrow.)
Qunsa glanz sor (Great Mother,)
Iro suier lanux zi vilires (Please Guard this pure soul,)
Neixon moz qui enzi (Until death comes .)”
As the hymn for the newborn drew to a close, all but one kneeling woman dissolved into the wind, dancing light-footed all around. Step by step, the elder approached her and placed the infant into her arms.
“Viola, this child is now in your care.” With these words, the elder donned an owl-carved mask, took a single stride, and the ground returned to an absolute, tranquil stillness.
The woman gazed tenderly at the slumbering child, planting a soft kiss upon his brow.
“Welcome to the world, Vain.”
The conlang is called “Jaziksin” , it’s the language that the elves and faires used in the story
