***
Jourell sat in the tower of the University, poring over the ancient tome he had taken from the priest's house. His young female guest shivered nervously at his side despite the thick furs Jourell had wrapped her in. As he read, he was beginning to understand his dreams of the child. The more he read, the more he wanted to read. The words drew Jourell into the pages, the ancient texts coming to life, filling his mind with new understanding. This tome was no grimoire. It spoke of a power beyond anything he could dare to ask or imagine, but he could not find the key to unlock it and make it his own. With such power at his disposal, he could overcome Vargor and Barramon, and any others who oppose him. There were mysteries hidden within the words his mind could not grasp. No matter the rituals he performed, he could not invoke the spirit which tome spoke of. A spirit of infinite power.
As the hours drew on, Jourell knew he would have to return to his cave. The sanctuary where he had spent centuries learning the ways of the spirits who ruled the principalities of the earthly kingdoms. He would go there again and seek further guidance; he must have this inner power beyond all powers.
The night had come and gone. A watery sun was peering over the Dark Iron Hills, igniting the sky with its fiery gaze. Blacks stretched into purples through indigo to blue as the sun rose higher and higher, driving the memories of the night across the horizon. Jourell rose to his full height and stretched out his arms growling softly. He looked down at the sleeping girl, then turning to face the east he opened a watcher.
"Jumtak throg nar eta," he changed, smiling as he lifted the girl gently in his arms. “You must wake, it is time for you leave.”
Standing her on her feet he placed a hand upon her shoulder to steady her. "This will take where want to go. You must think of someone that you know who is safe then put your hand into it and walk through."
"Thank you," the girl croaked, her face painted with claw marks and bruises. The watcher shimmered as she approached it. Reaching out a trembling hand, she looked back once more to the orc who had saved her. "Good bye," she whispered disappearing together with the watcher.
Jourell, smiling to himself, slid the tome beneath his dragon scale armor. A moment later he was at the base of the tower, standing in the center of the portal. With a deep sigh he wound his way back through the corridors to the council chambers to where he knew Barramon would be waiting for him.
"Greetings my friend," Jourell said with a reluctant sigh, placing a heavy hand upon Barramon's shoulder.
"Is it time?" Barramon sat himself in Magnus's chair, his armor rattling around his exposed bones. "The day I have long feared has come at last. You are leaving."
Barramon looked up at the softly smiling orc, standing tall before him, immovable and unrelenting.
"There is much that I must do," he nodded, his chest heaving with deep breaths though he took no air into his dry lungs. "I have discovered secrets that trouble me deeply in my spirit. The ways of my caste are stirring within me. I must heed them. I will go to my cave in the mountains and there contemplate the meaning of the tome I removed from the old priest’s house." Jourell rubbed absently at his chin.
"I knew that I could not keep you. Can any man tame an orc?" Barramon rose to his feet pulling the orc close, hugging him deeply. "I shall miss you. You have fought valiantly by my side like no other."
"Careful, you are getting sentimental." Jourell stepped back toward the door. "Until the next time."
Jourell opened a watcher and, without turning back, passed through it leaving Barramon alone in the silence of the council chambers.
into grimlaw
Tralchar stood by the wagon park watching the flood of humanity wend its way across the land of Grimlaw, the country where he was the law, the land the dwarves called home. Hundreds of wagons stood waiting with rams and mules in harness.
"You'll find new homes ready for you all," the beaming Tralchar said, proudly waving the exhausted travelers down to the wagon park.
"I hate to say it," Arrborn grumbled into his beard, one eye cocked toward Tralchar.
"Aye, so don't. If you hadn't been so insistent all those years ago, then we would not have been prepared to receive so many into our midst. Everything has happened just as you prophesied." Tralchar pointed to a solitary robed figure stumbling wearily down the pathway from the Walk of Faith as though it were littered with rocks. "That just leaves the warrior child, the doomsayer, and the one to unite the allies." He huffily counted off the items on his stubby fingers.
"All in good time, all in good time." Arrborn stepped out, blocking the way of the lone traveler. "There's room for you at my home until we can get you back together." The man looked at him through red-rimmed eyes, the light in them long extinguished. There was no indication of recognition; he just walked along beside Arrborn over to the Talloran ram tugging at the coarse yellow flowers where they sprouted among the rocks and stones. "Come on Yakkob, it's time for us to go."
"Go!" Tralchar, affronted, thrust himself between Arrborn and Yakkob. "I have much to explain to Magnus about our laws and customs that must be obeyed whilst his people are among us."
"I have no people," Magnus said, his voice a whisper on the wind. "I have failed everyone."
"Now is not the time, Tralchar. These people need hope not laws. The laws were given to us by the One. They show us our shortcomings, our need for something greater than ourselves. Arrborn pointed his staff at the wagon train weaving its way down the valley out into the distant reaches of Grimlaw and glared at Tralchar, his eyes gleaming with fire. These people need to know that we are ready for them. Our barns are full to bursting. The land is tilled and ready. Homes are waiting for them to begin again. It may not be the rolling meadows of Meregith or the open lands of Mor, but it is home." Eyes narrowing to slits he stepped away from Tralchar. "Have a heart, Tralchar. Walk a league in their shoes. Law and pointless traditions are the last thing they need. They have untold years to be bored with them." Tralchar stood with his mouth gaping. "Home Yakkob."
With a short bleat Yakkob, Magnus and Arrborn vanished leaving Tralchar to catch flies by himself.
Time passed at a leisurely pace in Grimlaw. The people were in no hurry to do anything. Life was there to enjoy, something seemingly impossible at the frantic pace that life was lived in Mor. Not to say the indigenous people were idle, far from it. It was widely spoken of among the immigrants how well everything was organized and run here, and how nothing seemed to be too much trouble, so there were remarkably few who held any resentment or bitterness toward their hosts. There would, however, always be those that were ungrateful, no matter what they were given.
a troubled heart
"What troubles you, young warlock?" Jinpo's eyes sparkled with moisture. "I have noticed of late you grow silent."
"I cannot lie to you, Jinpo. I am torn inside. I have caused hurt where I never intended. Hatred when I needed friends." Dekor threw a stone across the shimmering waters where fish leapt after flies. The stone bounced across the surface sending out a message in rippled script.
"Your time with the One has caught up with you, I suspect, hmm." Jinpo threw a stone. It landed with a splash, scattering the children playing in the shallow water.
"Perhaps. But how do I right the wrongs that I have done?" Dekor sighed resignedly. "What must I do."
He watched Zillah skimming over the lake snatching up the fish as they leapt out of the water. Taarl waved excitedly at Dekor and Jinpo as she steered Zillah toward them pulling her up at the last moment. Zillah roared delightedly at the children splashing her with water.
"Is happiness not for me? Is that the punishment for choosing fire?"
"Happiness is always a choice, young Dekor. Taarl has chosen to bond her soul with yours. You are now one. She has chosen a shortened life and yet she is happy. You have chosen your path, but another has been shown to you. Why not take a few steps upon that one and see it what it brings… then choose."
"I need to go. I
will take Icthus, but Taarl will have to stay here. I will attempt to seek the One and at least start with one foot on the right path." Dekor smiled at the memory of his first encounter with the One and how he had rescued him from the hunters in Meregith.
"I will speak with Taarl. Icthus is in the Thorn gathering berries; he will be back later. Wait in my home, there is food there. I will see to it that you are left alone until we all eat tonight. Now go." Jinpo tapped Dekor with his stick, signaling the discussion had come to an end.
Alone in the hut Dekor sat listening to the muffled voices of Taarl and Jinpo as they discussed the situation. Zillah snorted at the hut, sniffing at the cracks around the door and under the verandah, searching for her master.
"What am I to do?" Dekor said softly to himself.
"Return to Bethraim," a gentle voice said from a softly flickering light as it came from within Dekor, to rest at his feet.
"Do you appear different each time?" Dekor asked. Reaching out to the light, he felt nothing, his hand passing through it as though he were trying to apprehend a ghost.
"I come as I am needed. I am seen as you can best understand me." The light rose slowly from the floor and came to rest directly in front of Dekor.
"The girl?" Dekor's heart sank at the prospect.
"If the solution to your problem was easy you would have already done it and I would not be needed. Her name is Dorn. She is in the mountains to the far east of Grimlaw. But your way there begins in Bethraim." The light flickered before disappearing.
Dekor rose to his feet and walked outside, surprised at how late in the day it now was. The sun was setting in west casting long shadows across the Mire. Fires burned all around the village as families set about preparing their supper. Tattlejacks of all sizes scuttled by carrying handfuls of fish and grasses, the children leaping and jumping about in the shallow waters hoping perhaps to catch something extra to add to the supper pot.
Taarl sat on an old tree stump enjoying an extended fishing lesson from Icthus, who stood in the water at her side guarding a large pole heaped with berries. Taarl lifted her fishing pole, the line snatching tight as the fish on her hook darted toward the bulrushes. Icthus squawked excitedly as Taarl wrestled the fish ashore. Icthus flipped head over heels with excitement at the size of Taarl's catch before he fell into the lake, making Dekor laugh for the first time since his wedding.
Taarl held the fish high above her head, turning toward Dekor and returning his smile. Jinpo tugged at his arm and handed him the sticks for the fire which he built beneath a large pot filled with water in readiness for the meal. Dekor ignited the woodpile with a blast of yellow flames. Then placing his hands on either side of the pot he heated the water, his hands glowing a deep red tinged with elements of pink and white. Jinpo watched from the corner of his eye, pretending to be preoccupied with the pile of fish at his feet, skillfully gutting each one with a flick of his knife.
Tossing the fish into the pot he asked, "You are decided?" as he dropped the fish guts into a small pail which he put to one side.
"I am. I will go to Bethraim and begin my search there." Dekor took some berries from Icthus. He tossed a handful of them into his mouth, savoring the juicy pop of the firm fleshy berries.
"That will be good. And a good meal with family will make it better." Jinpo patted Dekor's hand as he took Taarl's fish that she had caught. "You have a difficult talk ahead of you," Jinpo said ushering Icthus aside. "They must learn to be truthful without us."
Dekor drew a long breath, letting it out slowly as he pulled Taarl close, looking into her eyes.
"What do you see when you do that?" she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips.
"I see love," he replied, returning the kiss.
They remained in each other's embrace enjoying the moment together.
"Icthus tells me that you are to go on a journey," Taarl said resting her head on Dekor's shoulder, allowing her hands to explore his back. "Will you be away for long?"
"I do not know how long it will take. I will be traveling with Icthus and Zillah so we will travel quickly wherever we go."
"I am ready for you now," Taarl whispered in his ear. "My acceptance of you is complete. We can now mate."
"How will that change you?" Dekor kissed her ear, then made a line of tiny kisses all the way down her neck. They had been wed for a while, but up until today they could have no union.
"I do not know. There are not many of my kind for me to learn from. My mother was a darkling and my father a nomad of Zin. They spent their lives running from one side or the other until I was born then neither could harm me. I only know that when we are truly one then I shall be like you and you like me. We will always know each other, whatever the distance between us."
"Then I shall never be alone." Dekor held Taarl close to him as they walked over to join the rest of their family. Jinpo handed them both a bowl of steaming stew which they ate in silence. Icthus watched them, curious as to why they were not speaking. He opened his mouth to ask why only to have his father close it again for him. Jinpo shook his head with a disapproving look and pointed at the empty bowls. Icthus sighed resignedly as he set about his duty. He enjoyed the eating far more than he did the clearing up.
It was dark long before Dekor and Taarl retired to their hut along the shore of the lagoon. They sat on the edge of their verandah watching the fireflies in their swirling courtship dance beneath the watchful gaze of the moon. Taking Dekor's hand Taarl rose to her feet and led him into the cabin.