A ceremonial chant recited at solstices and oath‑makings, recalling the three chords of Terafna.
“In the beginning, Terafna was not soil, nor stone, nor stream.
It was a single breath, a single heart, a single voice.
From that voice came three chords — stone, water, and living green.
The first chord hardened, and so the MoRoc were born.
They are the bones of the world, guardians who endure,
their silence deeper than the mountains they resemble.
The second chord flowed, and so the MoRaw awoke.
They are the world’s pulse, running in rivers and seas,
forever moving, forever reflecting the sky above.
The third chord quickened, and so the MoRem stirred.
They are the skin and flesh of Terafna,
taking the shapes of beasts, of forests, of whatever lives upon the land.
Three chords, one song.
Three faces, one world.
We call this kinship the Mor,
for all of us are born of Terafna’s first voice.
But beware — kinship is not sameness.
The MoRoc remember.
The MoRaw forgive.
The MoRem choose.
And when the balance breaks,
when one seeks to claim more than its chord,
the song falters… and Terafna herself will grieve.”