Page 3 Chapter 2 "The birth of a stream"
Chapter 2
Hanor was pulled out of the deepest shadows of dream by the blare of a lur, which even here on the edge of the Holmen rattled in his ears. It seemed that not even a bear in its hibernaculum behind the next mountain would have stood a chance. It is said that the lur, whose playing resounds every day at dawn from the citadel's tower, was forged entirely from holcon. It is somewhat due to the properties of this material that it possesses its incredibly pure and high-pitched sound. The bugle call sounded beautiful and dignified. However, the whole positive impression was lost by the circumstances in which the average Holmen resident consumed the piece. With an empty stomach, a full bladder and the feeling that one had been robbed of those beautiful and blissful moments of sleep in the morning.
The last few days he strolled to the stream behind the homestead and waded in the icy, swift current. He poured the crystalline liquid over his head and enjoyed a pleasant tingling sensation in his feet. He stood there, dwelling on the water that came from the heart of the massif. Somewhere high up among the peaks, a particularly ambitious, narrow trickle of crystal-clear water would, on its way down the steep slopes, merge with other streamlets and so become a spring. A brave youngster, cascading down to successively lower levels, flying headlong down cliffs, forcing its way through dense forests and meadows. By the time it reached the farm, it was already a lively and wide stream. In the town, on the other hand, it galloped through as a ranging torrent, washing over the rock of the citadel, winding a little through the town center, passing by the harbor and flowing into the bay with a vengeance. The bay, as a larger player, collected the entire aquatic tribute from this side of the mountains and submitted it to the insatiable Terrmenian Ocean.
