An Elven Story – Chapter Seven – Elves of Belerion


The Elves of Belerion, where the Land Ends

We are the Elves of Belerion, we are the wisps of time

We are the walkers of the Wyrd, we are the sacred rhyme.

In Cornwall in the south west of England, Land’s End, there is an area called West Penwith. Penwith is the human name for such a place but in the language of the Elves it is called Belerion. This area is like a living museum, within its 87 square miles there are around 800 known and visible archaeological sites and a further 400 or so which have known to have existed. There is a greater concentration of ancient sites than almost anywhere else in Britain. Not only are there stone circles, quoits and cairns, there are dragons in every headland and peninsula.

There was a time when forest covered this land, ancient and sacred. In the bay of Penzance stands St Michael’s Mount, its causeway can be walked upon low tide and on high tide a boat ferries people back to the main land. On very low tides at certain times of the year, petrified tree stumps can be seen, showing how this place was once in a deep dense forest. When Atlantis fell the sea rose and covered the forest now placing the mount in the sea.

This was once an Elven mound which contained the home of the Shee, deep inside the rock itself there was a mighty civilisation of Elves. Elves came from far and wide to hear the wisdom of the Elves of Belerion. When the gates did close those inside ventured much deeper into the earth, keeping themselves secret from those on the surface. Many years after humans who were inspired by Elves made this place a temple of the sun. Belerion was a part of Antalopia which was the name of the land mass. At one time the landmass of England and Ireland were one, but when the sea rolled and land shifted the land in-between was cast into the sea. There are stories about the lost city of Lionesse, which lies at the bottom of the sea just off the Cornish coast. I truly believe I am living in the remains of a magical yet forgotten land. The history of this isle has been hidden from us by the powers that be, black magicians many of them, rewriting the history books setting detours in people’s minds, so they will not discover the truth.

The land is rich in copper and tin which was created when the dragons moved through the landscape in ripples known as Moraine. El Moraine the mighty dragon caused all the hills to rise and all valleys deep. He now sleeps deep inside the earth, entrances to his kingdom are where places of magnetic power lie, dragon lines crossing in several nodes. The Elves of Belerion served the great dragon and kept his wisdom alive in their songs and poems. When the Elves retreated into the home of the Shee, druidic peoples populated the land, red headed noble people they were, the direct descendants of their Elven ancestors. It is said that St Michael’s Mount was once a temple to the sun and female druids lived upon this sacred mound. People came from miles around to take of their healing power, many blinded regained sight at the hands of the priestesses. It was called Din Sul, Din means hill or mound and Sul was the name of the sun goddess which they worshipped. They managed to keep this stronghold true until Christian monks murdered every one of the priestesses and cast this holy place into darkness. They renamed it St Michael’s Mount and even made up a fictitious story to hold their lie in place. It is said that fishermen stranded on this rock in a storm were comforted by a vision of St Michael. What lies these monks of Christ did tell. A monastery was built upon this sacred place, harnessing the power of the earth for their dreadful deeds. Now it belongs to a lord who is in cahoots with the English Queen. Black magic rituals are now done in this place, harnessing the power of the dragon and then perverting it into satanic rites. The Queen of England has lay bronze prints of her feet into the very rock, (an Elven Ritual) marking her territory . This was not the only place which was stolen and corrupted by these black magicians all over the British Isles where once there stood places of worship to Arda herself, monasteries, churches, and freemasonic temples were built upon them, capping the energy, using the power to subdue the people of England.


We are the Elves of Belerion, we see a distant mile, our sight is a sharp as a hawk’s and is seen in our eye.

We wear a grey mantel, with runes and magic thread

We walk along the dragon’s back, a journey a priest would dread.

We live the way of the silver branch, though this way is lost in time

We only remember it to this day, in poetry and rhyme

Ancient are our ancestors, like grandfathers to men

We lived in days of yester year, autumns we did spend.

We built ships in elder days, like serpents on the waves

We rode through the currants, in those golden days

We once were called the Teleri, I am sure you have heard it said

Now most of our kin, are buried and dead



Belerion was once a mighty civilisation of Elves, it spread far and wide and covered the whole of the land, which was holy in the eyes of the Elves. Bathed in the valleys of the dragons, the elves lived in the hollowed hills of the Shee. Elven mounds, hollowed hills are all over the land if you have Elven eyes to see. Yes it is true that many of the stone circles and quoits were once used for the passage of Elves to the undying lands, however when the land shifted and the gates closed , and man turned to darkness, the Elves who were not trapped in the Twix , created homes for themselves in the hollowed hills , fairy mounds they were known. All over the land there are remnants of this bygone age, however not all the mounds are now inhabited. The High Queen of Belerion now lives within the woods. Faded is her reality, her illusion ageing and tired for everywhere if you look closely there is a rip in its fabric. Smaller are their numbers than in the height of their reign, they were once a mighty family with many lineages of kin. In the height of their glory there abound countless numbers of Silvarin Elf. For if you remember clearly, this was what the Teleri were now named. Before they moved into the hollowed hills they lived in Silvarin cities in the trees.

Elves live in a hierarchy but not the same as men, for Elves evolve through thought and deed and not from wielding black power. The High King and Queen are related that is for sure but they are not given this title lightly and have to be masters of high wisdom and Elven magic. Their rites of passage are complex and intricate, the developing of the mind of magic is their main intent. Unlike the ways of backward men who give the crown to those of blood line, the Elves do not agree this is right. Automatic entitlement is not given to those next in line, but to those Elves who are true to the way of the silver branch, in leadership and loyalty. It is true that certain families have been more successful than others at gaining this high status, however it is possible for any Elf to be king or queen. There is a set path of advancement which if magically walked brings both the female elf and the male elf to fall in love as if they were a twin. There is no competition between them, not one lesser than the other, they reign in a balanced harmony. Only through this harmony can they keep their reality intact.

As the king and queen magically unite as one they send an energy field around them which can expand across several miles. It is said in the ancient days kings and queens could project their auric field for hundreds of miles. If anyone came into the outer edges of their kingdom they could immediately be detected through the sensitive of the king and queen. The queen she had a vision role she could send her spies in the form of birds to see who was wandering in her kingdom, she could look into the hearts of those who trod her land, to see if they could be trusted or they must be feared. The king took more of a physical role, patrolling his kingdom on steeds, the queen held the core of the land as if she was the pivot of the wheel. The king was the outer rim moving through his kingdom with a patrol of Elves. Many humans saw them trooping by on their daily hunt. The trooping Elves walked the dragon paths and crossed upon the nodes, meeting other troupes in these sacred places.

The Elves of Belerion no longer troupe because of the loss of their king. They now only patrol on foot within the woods, though seldom does anyone stray into their Elven territory. Even though people walk their dogs there every day their reality is so far off from Elven kin, that the Elves do not even feel their presence there, as they have wrapped such a thick illusion around themselves that to penetrate it is almost impossible. Even those who have actively tried have only been cast aside and lost in the trees. Magic spells and incantations whisper in the trees, sleeping spells and missing time is cast at men, many walk and picnic there but never see an Elf. This is because the queen has cast a spell woven net over her land but she has also cast an illusion around herself and her people. She lived inside this illusion as if all the world was well and turned her cheek and closed her ears to those who told her otherwise. Time within the hollowed hill moves so slowly it seems as if you can live forever, whilst the outer world turns so fast and things die and decay. All the time the queen was living inside her closed world, outside man cut down the trees to make props for his mines, to mine the land of copper and tin and take what was not theirs to take.

So what happened to all those Elven kin who once walked this land many fell in a great war between light Elf and dark. Our past is not a happy one as you may have thought. It was in the ancient days when darkness roamed the land and magic was cast in black and white and battled in the ether. Dark Elf cast darkened spells woven in deep caves, the light Elves cast starlight spells to clear the ways. Illusion was their forte, they were masters in the weave. Delusion of the mind was a sickness they did send to those who strayed into their territory and were of dark descent. Traps, detours, means of getting lost, this was the magic which the queen did send. Helped by the spell weavers whose life it was to weave.

To become a spell weaver a dedication is demanded of everyone, as it takes more than several eons of time to achieve the title of spell weaver extraordinary. The Elves walked this path during the age when Belerion was at its height before the fall. Schools of learning, spell binding, dragon divining was taught to students of both Elf and men. To know the sacred name of every plant, every tree and more was the first level of this college of learning. To be able to sing the song of every species of Arda was the next request. At this point many Elves would not make the grade and would leave and study more in order to be able to pass the test and enter the next stage of their learning. Badges of honour and achievement were wore in pride upon their mantel. (Just like the elf who first greeted me in the woods, he wore a mantel with elven script and runes upon it). As the student proceeded through every stage of this ascent into magic his form would change, his height would increase making him taller, a giant to men. His energy emanations would increase in both depth, distance and power, magic talismans could be seen to glow in his field. Magic objects, weapons and tools would manifest before their eyes, given to them by Arda to assist them on their path, these manifestations were emblems of the status of the Elf. Bow and arrow meant that the Elf had mastered the energy of the wind and air, his allies the birds and eagles who flew the skies so high. Those with cup or chalice had the living waters on their side and could call upon the rivers to rise in their banks and for the rain to thunder from the sky. Stones in a magical pouch were cast upon the earth and from this mighty stones would build, through this powerful magic the henge were set upon the land. Fire if mastered came from not from flame or match but was sent from the heart as a green flame, this was the final stage of their initiations into the elements. For every Elf had to be able to cast a fire with no wood, and keep this burning hot and bright into the dead of night.

Expansion of the aura was also required to set it so thick and strong that an assailant, would be catapulted in a giant leap, forced back by the magic which the Elf did create in his energy emanations. Those who fought in the Great War were adept at this, they conjured up beautiful and strong armour which shone as if with a silver light, yet was light and smooth and felt like skin upon the body. Once the initiation into the elements had been successfully completed the Elf was then considered a spell weaver of the basic kind, though not many were content with this and continued on with their studies specialising in one kind of magic or another. As the Great War waged on many different forms of magic were used but as the war continued it became muddled black magic from white and even those Elves of Belerion did meddle where they should not. Dark elves used dark magic that was to be expected but even those who consider themselves of the light dabbled in the grey. It was not exactly dark, it was not exactly light but somewhere in between somewhere in the Twix.

All elves are animal whisperers it is a natural talent of ours. We can project our consciousness into any animal and use their eyes to see and their ears to hear. We use owl to spy at the dead of night and bat when walking abroad. A humble mouse is a great ally as he can pass unseen in dark corners free from seeing eyes. His ears are sensitive and can record conversations said in whispers. When strength and determination is needed wild boar is called upon, his magic is often used by the male Elves as they can contain his energy in their being. The female Elf will use the swan as a disguise when she is in danger. They were the Swan maidens with a soft and gentle power of healing. They too were taken into battle to tend the wounds of the Elven heroes that did fall upon the blade. Horse, stag and steed were the closest bond to those of the animals that the Elves did forge. For travelling in migration was the way of the Elf. Now the Elves of Belerion need not commute in such ways as they prefer to stay locked away in their little woods.

All Elves are magic born but those who studied in the Belerion were far outstanding. Only through her power could the queen have kept up her reality for so long. Though she is tired which is not something often felt by an Elf, for she is lamenting in her heart. For she has lost her king and he has not returned even though she knows he is not dead. For if he fell down to the final sleep then her reality would fall apart for both magic of king and queen are needed to keep the illusion real. Even though he is absent she knows he is still alive however she can also feel that dark magic holds him in an ironed glove. She has long since given up in futility to find anyone who could unlock his chains for a sickness fell upon her when she tried herself, a powerful magic more powerful than her own holds her king imprisoned . Even though she would not consider this as a possibility remembering his fair hair and deep blue Elven eyes, her king has turned to the other side and now is a dark Elf lord.


For in his desperation, in a battle of magic curse

He used a dark magic, which he could not reverse.

This was his greatest sin

Now the dark side did live within.

At first it was not noticed only in a seldom frown

But after the ages did pass and more battles were fought

The king did realise he had been caught.

For darkness does grow when not plucked from the heart

And every moment of anger was sent as a dart.

As a dart dipped in poison

It began to fester and grow

Until this light Elf king did no longer glow.

His once radiant attire now deepened in hue and darkened in time and his mind did go the same. He took to wandering on his own far from the camp of his Elven warriors, seeking out the dark trees, that even Elves did not communicate with, for many had a sickness about them that brought an Elf to hate. He no longer sang as an Elf like all Elves do but hummed away under his breath, speaking words that no light Elf should speak. His memory of Belerion was fading from his mind, which is an experience that would seem impossible to any Elf who does not know. He began to see the other side and wished he had not sided with those in silver armour and began to think of seeking out those whose anger glowed in their chests. He began to forge another plan which he told to no one and kept it secret in his mind locked by dark magic which he used regularly, telling his people it was necessary. Some did listen to him and they too did turn, some left his command and returned to their homes but many were slain and did not make it to return the news to the queen.

Many ages did pass, and the war between light Elf and dark was complete and the light Elves ran to the mountains and deep into the forests, and the dark Elves took to the caves and ravaged places, man began to reign. At first the dark Elves were patient and bided their time, ancient are their lives, patience is something which grows with such a life.


We could go back in time

But only as if in a dream,

And see our futures

As if an imagined scene.

The future is never set in stone

And can change with intent

So the dark Elves plotted

In absolute relent.

The darkness can never really be mastered

But the dark can master the Elf.

Many dark Elves became caught in their own magic,

Rebounding it back upon them self.


The dark Elves came up with the best plan they could conspire, that was to influence those humans who had dark intent. It was easy for them to wrap them with their magic and bring out the worst in them. At first they wanted to kill all light Elves until there was no one left but when they failed at this mission they turned their attention towards men. Even though they were darkened the only love remaining was that of tree. And when they saw men with sharpened axes coming, they vowed that day that every man would receive a curse blacker that pitch and harder than steel. At first it was easy as the human reality lay not far from ours, but as the electricity formed on 

the planet we could not conjure up shadows because of the light, the dark Elves could not stand it, this harsh illumination and ran to the hills and caves. Can you imagine their anger and their rage? They could not take revenge on behalf of Arda which they thought was their pledge, because of this new energy which crackled and hissed as it ran along its lines. Most of the dark Elves live now trapped in the earth because now with cell towers they cannot survive, in fact they are fried, by the conversations of men talking along invisible lines. So they remain in the earth conspiring as if they will one day have a chance to rid this beloved planet of theirs from the parasite which is man. To rid themselves of this infestation of their lands.


The king of Belerion is missing and to this day he has not returned and it is told in the stories that he will one day return but those of us who were caught in the Twix, we have given up hope for we are not so under the illusion and magic of those who are still Elven kin in form and grace.

We are only Elven in soul and not in face.

Chapter Eight

 NB * This is an ongoing project , these are the first chapters more to come

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