Albums/
Celtic Mythology/
String of the Gods
"Forged in the Otherworld" tells the legend of Dagda’s enchanted harp, Uaithne, an artifact of divine power crafted in the mystical Otherworld—the realm of gods, spirits, and magic. This song brings to life the myth of its creation, where the forces of fate, music, and war converged to shape a weapon unlike any other.
In the shrouded halls of the Sidhe, where time bends and reality warps, the harp was forged by ancient druidic forces, imbued with the essence of the three great songs—sleep, sorrow, and battle. Blessed by the Tuatha Dé Danann, its strings would hold the power to lull enemies into slumber, summon grief to break the hearts of kings, and unleash fury upon the battlefield.
⚔ As Dagda’s fingers first brushed the strings, the echoes of the Otherworld resonated through the land, sealing its destiny as an instrument of both destruction and salvation. But such power was never meant to be wielded without cost, and from the moment of its creation, the harp became the target of dark forces seeking to claim its magic for themselves.
Let the echoes of the Otherworld guide you… the legend begins.
Forged in the Otherworld
Born from storm and woven fate,
A song to open heaven’s gate.
In hands divine, its voice was pure,
But darkness came to claim it sure.
Through mist and time, its echoes call,
A power lost, yet feared by all.
Strings of fire, carved in gold,
A voice of sorrow, fierce and bold.
Through war and shadow, it shall rise,
A song eternal in the skies.
The gods have whispered in the air,
A melody beyond despair.
Through hands unworthy, fate was torn,
The world now waits for light reborn.
Through mist and time, its echoes call,
A power lost, yet feared by all.
Strings of fire, carved in gold,
A voice of sorrow, fierce and bold.
Through war and shadow, it shall rise,
A song eternal in the skies.
The earth shall quake, the skies shall burn,
When lost voices soon return.
Through mist and time, its echoes call,
A power lost, yet feared by all.
Strings of fire, carved in gold,
A voice of sorrow, fierce and bold.
Through war and shadow, it shall rise,
A song eternal in the skies.
A battle calls, the gods awake,
Their voices shaking land and lake.
The harp shall sound, the night shall break,
And all shall tremble in its wake.
Through mist and time, its echoes call,
A power lost, yet feared by all.
Strings of fire, carved in gold,
A voice of sorrow, fierce and bold.
Through war and shadow, it shall rise,
A song eternal in the skies.
The wind still sings, though time moves on,
A song remembered, never gone.