(Words by Countess Axylides, tune by Zander Nyrond)
These are the hands of the healer undaunted
Who strove against death to bring life to the earth,
These are the hands of a woman of power
Who yields all to pain for the price of her worth.
CHORUS
Come to the Shandar, the tower of learning,
Come with a will and a heart that is yearning,
Bring your desire, your strength and your longing,
The Shandar awaits all who serve, all who care.
These are the hands of the keeper of crystals,
One who has given his mind to the task,
These are the hands with their scars of the burning,
These are the marks that no healing can mask.
CHORUS
Come to the Shandar, the tower of learning,
Come with a will and with power discerning,
Bring your bright vision, the thoughts that enkindle,
The Shandar calls out to the Will that can share.
These are the hands that have worked with the renn-silk,
Hands that have harvested food for the tribe,
These have planted the corn and the breadfruit,
Tended the children and aided the scribe.
CHORUS
Come to the Shandar, the tower of learning,
Come with a heart that for knowledge is burning,
Bring the strong courage to work with endurance,
The Shandar shall summon those willing to care.
These are the hands that have shaped the kill-crystal,
Hands that are skilled in the warrior's way,
With shield and with sword they will serve with protection,
Hands trained to slaughter and schooled to obey.
CHORUS
Come to the Shandar, the tower of learning,
Come with a will that shall suffer no turning,
Bring the dark purpose to serve and to suffer,
The Shandar will harness the heart that will share.
These are the hands of the few and the chosen,
These are the hands of one Keeper alone,
Soul of the people and heart of the whole world,
These are the hands of the spirit of stone.
CHORUS
Come to the Shandar, the tower of learning,
Come with a will with all others concurring,
Bring nought but self and the need to do something,
Come and be one with the Rheave if you dare.