The Cymroth

Chronicle Entry - Secret Annex

Recorded by Brother Wyn of Caermynach, Anno Domini 918

Known As: The Joined Ones
Period of Unity: c. 3800 BC to c. 950 BC
Territory: High ridges between Builth, Aberceiros, and the Epynt
Status: Fractured into Silures and Ordovices by 950 BC

The Cymroth were a people who settled the high country of what would become middle Wales after arriving from the east during the generations following the scattering at Shinar. The name derives from proto-roots meaning together in red clay, marking both their unity and the soil of the ridges they claimed.

The Record

The merchants who preserve knowledge of the westward migration report that scattered kin-groups following remnants of the wandering star found each other in the uplands between the rivers. Each group spoke a slightly different rhythm of the same root tongue taught during the migration, yet when they sang together the dissonance resolved into harmony. They took this as sign and named themselves the Joined Ones, building their first settlements where volcanic stone hummed when struck.

The people worked stone and bone with careful symmetry, believing pattern to be nearest to prayer. They raised turf and stone ramparts in concentric circles, placing structures not for defence but for resonance. The settlements served as instruments that amplified remnants of the tone that flows through creation, though this purpose was forgotten by later ages that knew the sites only as hillforts. Metal was rare among them in the early centuries. Their craft lay in reading the bones of hills and placing stone where the ground itself would sing.

The Cymroth did not worship by name but honoured what they called the Keeper in the West who hears but does not speak. Their rites were sung rather than spoken, echoing the teaching that had restored their ancestors' voices during the westward trek. Disputes among them were settled by rhythm, with two sides presenting their cases in chant before elders. The first to break metre yielded. This method preserved peace for nearly three thousand years, longer than most kingdoms endure.

History

The first settlement was raised on hills above what men now call Llanelwedd. The merchants name this site Caer Cadarn, though whether this was the name the Cymroth themselves used is not recorded. The site was chosen for the quality of stone found there, which carried faint vibration when struck in certain ways. The builders placed outer ramparts so that gates faced specific stars, though which stars and for what purpose I cannot say.

Over generations, the people expanded along the ridges, creating what the merchants describe as a necklace of resonance forts. Each was built on ancient volcanic or granitic lines where earth sang faintly when tapped. The settlements included Caer Cadarn, Caer Einion, and Caer Fawr, though the locations of the latter two are not precisely recorded in accounts available to me. The Cymroth maintained these sites for nearly three millennia, an achievement that surpasses most empires in duration.

Their history was carried in refrains the merchants call cymnau, melodic records that preserved knowledge through song rather than written word. This method proved effective across centuries, though much was eventually lost when the people fractured. The faith that bound them was not complex theology but simple practice: sing together, settle disputes through rhythm, build where stone remembers harmony.

The civilisation proved that harmony can exist without uniformity, a lesson their distant ancestors learned during the westward migration when many tongues were taught to serve one purpose. Where the lord whom Greeks name Zeus had sought to force all voices into one unified tone before the towers fell, the Cymroth demonstrated that difference within unity was possible. This achievement distinguished them from other early peoples and explains their unusual longevity.

The Fracture

Near 950 BC, the unity that had endured for almost three thousand years broke. The merchants preserve differing accounts of what caused the division. Some speak of one clan attempting to perfect the tone and silence the rest. Others mention disputes over how to respond to pressures from peoples moving into neighbouring territories. The precise cause matters less than the result, which was catastrophic for a people whose identity rested entirely upon remaining joined.

The Cymroth split into two groups. Those in the south became the Silures, known to later Romans for their fierce resistance to conquest. Those in the north became the Ordovices, equally formidable in battle though different in custom from their southern kin. Between them lay a gap, the high country around Builth and the Epynt where villages would later pay tribute to both sides to maintain precarious peace.

The fracture marked the end of the first true civilisation under what the merchants call the Western Veil. What had been fellowship bound by song became chiefdoms bound by blood and border. The resonance forts remained, but their purpose was forgotten. Later peoples who found them saw only defensive ramparts and mistook instruments for fortifications.

Final Entry

The legacy of the Cymroth persists in the peoples who descended from them, though the memory of original unity faded within generations of the fracture. The Silures and Ordovices fought each other as often as they fought outside threats, unaware they had once been one people. The high ridges where the Joined Ones first settled still hold remnants of their structures, though most have been obscured by later building or reclaimed by earth.

The merchants who told me this history speak of the Cymroth with particular reverence, claiming them as direct ancestors and preserving their account with care across more than four thousand years. When I asked why the people who achieved such lasting unity eventually broke, the eldest merchant replied that no mortal achievement endures forever, and three thousand years of peace was accomplishment enough for any people. He added that the lesson of the Cymroth was not their fracture but their long success, proof that harmony through difference was possible if men valued it more than perfection.

The red clay soil that gave them their name still marks the high ridges between the rivers. In spring when rain loosens the earth, the colour shows bright against green grass, a reminder of the people who took their identity from ground they shared rather than blood they defended.