For a writing class I'm taking currently, I wrote this short story, the title of which is in the subject line of the thread.
It's set in my sub-created world, which you'll notice is similar in some ways to Tolkien's (i.e. there's a 'blessed land'--though i don't always call it by that name--and a race of Angel-esque guardians in the West). However, I do try to make it different as well, so please try not to think i'm copying or anything.
I try not to. Anyway, here's the story--hope you like it. (Just for fun, I put in a reference to a poem by a well-known poet other than Tolkien, if you want to see if you can catch it. It might be too hard to catch easily, though--i don't know. Still, if you want you can give it a try.
)
City of the Starglobe
Shall I recount my tale to you? It is long, for I have journeyed much over these lands. There is little time ere I must set sail, but perhaps I will tell you the story of my first encounter with one of the Winged Folk, or Sprites as some call them--the immortal and beautiful race of Anwi.
One morning, my path took me into a green, rolling country. Even when it changed into forest a little way ahead, the land seemed to all be part of a great plain that stretched away from the northward mountains that were quite near on my right. Beyond the forest, I could make out a distant line of bluish hills--past which, as I've learned, is Ael, the Western Sea that booms not far from where we sit. As I told you, roaming as far westward as I can is my journey's purpose. Since I left my home-country in the East, I've been wandering long--following the golden fire of the sunset, and the poignant, silvery song of the Gloaming Star. I'm not sure why, but I've always been saddened when the bright Evening sky darkens from twilight into Night. In the hazy legends of my people, we speak of a place where Light dwells, never to die. Although the stories don't say much more, I cannot help but believe there is some truth in them, and I mean to find that place if it may be found by mortal Man. I have no words for this nameless longing for a land I've never seen--to me it's simply the Call, whose summoning I will never cease to hear until I find its source.
As to my tale, however, soon I came to the forest I had seen, and birds were singing under its eaves. Coming to a little stream, I knelt to refill my waterskin, which was nearly empty. Upon finishing this task, I paused for a moment to regard my reflection. Staring back at me was someone rather pale beneath a light dusting of freckles, with unruly brown hair and clear green eyes. Back home, the girls said I was handsome...I'm not sure if I believe them, but it's a nice thought even so, I suppose. Smiling amusedly to myself, I prepared to move on.
Suddenly, however, I became aware that I was being watched. Looking up, I was astonished at what--or rather, whom--I saw. Regarding me with a mixture of curiousity, wonder (both of which were mirrored on my face, I'm sure), and a strange, rather desperate kind of hope, stood the most unusual maiden (and the most beautiful as well, I'd have to say) that I'd ever seen. Ageless she seemed, and yet younger than I was, ready at any moment to laugh or sigh or grieve. Silver-edged white was her raiment, and gleaming ropes of--was it mother-of-pearl?--caught up her shadowy locks. In her dark eyes, I half expected to see the light of the stars--they belonged to someone much older than my visitor seemed, and yet who had not lost her sense of wonder. Most astonishing of all were the tall, white bird-like wings that rose from her shoulders to almost shimmer in a pale shaft of sun. She was an Anwa--the first I'd ever seen. In my homecountry, we had hazy lengends of a winged people, but they hadn't prepared me for this.
Astonished as I was, a few moments passed before I realized she had spoken.
"B-beg, pardon, my lady," I stammered, "--I did not hear when you addressed me."
With a bell-like laugh, the winged girl answered, "You don't have to call me 'my lady'--my name is Lomelil, daughter of the lord of Cascathal--our city, that is--but you're welcome to call me by name. What brings you to this land, mortal Man, where so few of your kind come?" Suprisingly (to me, at least), she seemed friendly as one of my own race, or more so. And yet, there was an unearthly quality about her that reminded me of the starsong that drew me west. For this reason, I trusted her enough to tell her my errand's true purpose, unafraid that she'd laugh or think me daft.
"My name is Galen," I finished, "but many call me the Wanderer."
With new respect Lomelil looked at me then. "Welcome then, Galen Wanderer. They didn't tell me there still those of your race who felt the Song of E-Losse in the West." Regarding me with another curious look, almost of recognition, she murmered to herself, "But then, I thought you'd be different from our tales of the rest--and you were. But nevermind that for now." Hesitating slightly, as if need battled with propriety, she inquired tentatively, "Will you come with me to my City?... There is something I think you should know--to speak truly, we are in desparate need of aid, which you alone may be able to give--but my father is the best one to explain."
Although this request confused me, her fear (of what, I wondered?) seemed so much in earnest that by no means could I have turned her down. Besides, how often do you find yourself in a situation this otherworldy?
"Certainly I will," I replied, and her expression brightened.
"Follow me then, and I will lead you to Cascathal of the Anwi."
Through the forest I followed her, as she led me toward the mountains. Soon, we came upon a rocky path into the foot-hills, climbing higher and higher until a tunnel's dark opening loomed before us. Confidently, however, Lomelil entered in, and I found that white lamps were hung from the ceiling at intervals. It was not long before we came upon several more winged folk who seemed to be guarding the tunnel. Lomelil spoke briefly to them, and we moved on toward the end of the tunnel.
When we emerged into the light of day, I was once again struck speechless. Here a great city was nestled amidst sheer mountain cliffs of a stone like translucent opal that transformed the sunlight into a thousand pearly rainbows. Surrounding it was a great bulwark made--like much of the city--of a glimmering moonlike substance for which I had no name. Inside it was a myriad of soaring towers that gleamed elusively as if to answer the distant snow-topped peaks, fair white dwellings embossed with silver and ornately carved, and everywhere fountains leapt, flowers blossomed and great trees rose along shady walkways. A little ways to the north, a mighty waterfall thundered, foaming wildly. After slowing to a safer speed, it found a culvert in the wall, and rushed through the City to plunge toward down into a steep ravine at the wall's southward edge. Still, I wondered at City-dweller's ability to live so near a waterfall--perhaps it was magic, which as I found out later had much to do with this place. Even at first glance, however, I thought Cascathal seemed magnificient--that is, until I looked closer. The trouble seemed to come from the waterfall, and thus the river--instead of running clear and bright, the water was dark and murky. Apparently supplied by that river, fountains gurgled rather than sang, and the flowers that had seemed so vivid at first I could now see were plainly dying, as were the trees. Worst of all, great cracks ran from the ground of the river bank to branch all over the city. Clearly they did need aid--I just wasn't sure how I, a mortal, could give it.
Even as I took all this in, a tremor shook the City, and two flag stones split apart not far from where we walked. Looking at me sadly, the winged girl said, "As I said before, we need someone to help us. Now you can see why." Indeed I could.
At length Lomelil brought me to her father's house, which was the stateliest of all the buildings I'd seen. Inside, long shafts of sunlight fell through the windows of a grand hall, at the end of which was a throne carved of the same substance as the cliffs. Seated on it was a Winged One grave but kind of face, and by their similarity in features, I knew that this was Lomelil's father, the lord of Cascathal.
"Welcome, daughter," he greeted her warmly, "but who is our guest?"
"Father, I believe he is the one Tailawithre spoke of when she wove me a dream two nights ago--" my companion explained almost eagerly, "--the one who can save us."
"That is welcome news indeed," her father murmered in surprise, then turning to address me. "What brought you to the country south of the mountains, where so few come these days, mortal Man?"
"A Call drew me westward, your lordship," I answered, rather confused by all I had heard, but intrigued as well. (I've been told my curiousity will be the death of me one day.) "When I met your daughter," I continued, "she told me I might be desparately needed here, and although I cannot see what aid I could give, I would not refuse her request."
"She told you truly," sighed the lord. "I am known as Lord Cistredar, and as you can see, the home of those I rule is in great danger. It is entirely up to you whether to help us or not, but in order to understand how, you must hear a tale of our people."
"I would be glad to listen, my lord." (As I said, I am always interested in anything that involves the otherworldly.)
"Long ago," Cistredar began, "one kindred of the Anwirin race dwelt in the forested land outside, near to where you met Lomelil. They were ruled by a good and wise king, but he had as yet taken no wife from among his own people. Wishing to find one, he took leave of his people for a time and wandered in disguise through the lands, looking for one who could love a poor Anwirin harper. At length he found someone who could--and she was mortal." Here the lord paused. "No matter how much we rejoice at their happiness, it is a grief to us when one of our kin weds with a mortal, for we know we must likely lose him or her. But let me continue.
"Their tale is too long to recount fully here, but eventually they were married, and ruled happily over the Anwi for a time. However, darkness was growing in the land. Perceiving the potential danger it posed, the king built this stronghold to give his people a safe retreat, should they need it. When it was finished, Neina, Lady of Starlight, gave him a shining orb wrought of star-fire, which we call the Starglobe. She told him that it would protect this City and it's people in times of need. At that time, however, the threat of Shadow diminished somewhat, and the world was free of that fear until many years later.
"Thus for a while, all was well, and the king's wife gave birth to twins--a boy and a girl. Unlike Anwi, however, mortals are subject to sickness, and the queen became ill when her children were not yet full grown. As she began to fade away, the king tried everything to restore her health, until only one option was left. Sadly, the king and queen bade farewell to their people, their land, and their beloved son and daughter, for they must sail westward to search for healing, if it could be found. They left the kingship to me (although I have taken the title 'lord' instead out of respect for them), and bade my own wife and I look after their children. No-one truly knows what happened to them, but legend has it that they were not parted, or that they will find one another again someday. As for me, I hope they are well, but I miss them. The first king was my brother.
"To continue, however, not long after the half-Anwi twins came of age, the threat of evil once again overshadowed the land, and we retreated to the City. Uthanion the Dark Lord sent the Shadowbeasts--vicious, bat-like creatures that do his bidding--to attack us, and destroy the Starglobe. Queen Neina has ever been one of his greatest adversaries, and he hates her starlight in all its forms. The Anwi fought bravely, meeting their foes in the air, and the half mortal prince battled them as well as any, for all that he could not fly. We would have been lost, however, without the courage of his sister, Ayille. Despite the danger, she took our Starglobe with her up the mountain to the north of us by a stairway that climbs alongside the waterfall, to where there is a mysterious tower. With the help of Neina and Tailawithre (who afterwards became the guardian of this City and the tower), the Starglobe was put in a safe--or at least, safer--place inside. Some say that it was 'hidden in a galaxy' up there, or in another dimension, although it's not clear how this could be. It's true enough, though, that the tower on the mountain isn't fully of this world.
"As to Ayille, no-one knows exactly why, but for some reason she never came back down--some say could not. The story is that she wished to become one of the starry lights of heaven, in order to live (despite her mortal blood) until the time came when she could find her parents again, and Neina granted her request. After that, the Lady of Starlight decreed that no-one but those of the race of Men could go into the tower to save the Starglobe, should the Shadowbeasts attack again. She did not reveal why, or even if that one would return again, but I know that she is good, as are all the Faiyari of the West who still honour Avru, and her designs would not bring us to harm unnecessarily.
"This, then, is how you may aid us, if you are willing: Climb up to the tower, where it is clear the Starglobe is in danger, and fix whatever is wrong, without certainty of coming out. I would not ask you even to consider this if there were any other way--if Anwi were permitted to do this, I would go myself. However, there is no other way. Please consider this, and if you succeed, we will be forever in your debt. You have until tomorrow morning to decide."
Stunned by all I had heard, I met Cistredar's gaze, and found that I trusted this Anwo who was so desparate to save his people, yet would not force an outsider to accomplish what they could not.
"I will consider it, my lord," I replied, not knowing what else to say.
"Thank you, Galen Wanderer," said the lord sincerely. "Lomelil, please escort our guest to a place he may stay the night."
With my head spinning, I followed Lomelil once again. Seeming to sense my need to think, she left me to unpack my things in a spacious room of one of the guesthouses. Some time later, however, she returned.
"I thought you might like to see Cascathal, even in it's present state," she offered almost shily. "I could show you around, if you like."
"Thank you," I replied, recognising that she was extending the hand of friendship to me. "I would be glad to see it."
For the rest of that day, Lomelil and I wandered through the City, careful to avoid the larger cracks. As she showed me her home, I questioned her about what I had heard. Curious about the mention of both Queen Neina and Lady Tailawithre, as well as the mysterious race of Faiyari, I asked my companion who they were.
"You do not know of the Archangels who dwell in the West?" she replied, seeming surprised. "Well, let me tell you. Neina Airiniel is the the Queen of the Faiyari, and it was she that wrought the stars. Lady Isteluv Tailawithre is the Dreamweaver--she sometimes comes in dreams to the Anwi, like she did to me, to tell them what they need to do. She and her twin brother (in the thought of Avru), Iltakir the Visionward, are said to be the youngest of the Faiyari, although that doesn't mean they aren't to be reckoned with--they're almost more so, in some ways."
"Maybe that's why Lady Tailawithre chose to be the guardian of this City and the tower," I mused. "She had a twin brother, as did Ayille."
"Maybe," said Lomelil. She sighed.
"Did you know Ayille well?" I asked, wishing to prompt her further.
"I knew her. We became quite close--I would always follow her around, she being the elder. I came to admire and love my half mortal cousin, but I remember she often seemed older than she was, as if the weight of her dual heritage dragged her down in some way. It must have been hard, I suppose, being the only Earthbound One in a city of Anwi. Anyway, then everything changed when she went away. I hope she found contentment, wherever she is (personally, I believe the story that she changed into a star--it seems to suit her), but I miss her."
"I'm sure you do," I answered sympathetically. Struck by a sudden thought, I asked, "How long ago did all this happen, Lomelil?"
"Let's see..." Her expression changed from wistful reminiscence to a frown of concentration. "It must have been at least half a millenium ago. I was only a couple hundred then. Why, what's wrong, Galen?"
"Nothing," I laughed. "I'm just not used to immortal folk quite yet."
"That seems strange," she teased, "because you remind me of one quite strikingly."
"Oh? And which one is that?"
"The first king, my uncle, actually. He went looking for something too--twice in fact, and the second time his search led westward," Lomelil explained. Indeed, I had noticed the similarity as well, and felt a kind of affinity for this other Wanderer.
"I take that as a compliment," I said aloud.
"I believe that he found what he was looking for," continued my friend with a smile, "and so will you."
That night, I fell asleep still thinking hard about all the events of the day. As Lomelil had led me about the City, I'd noticed that despite their being Winged Folk, I'd seen few Anwi actually flying. They looked unhappy and afraid--I thought that was probably why, and didn't blame them. How could I not help these people out of this dire fate? It might mean my life, but...surely it would be the noble thing to do. It would chime with my ideals, which I could not forsake when they were put to the test. With this thought in my mind, I drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, I opened my eyes (or seemed to) and found that I was not alone. Although somehow I knew was not yet awake, I was also aware that this was no ordinary dream. Pehaps I was helped to come to this realization by the fact that there was a shadowy figure in the room with me, of whom for some reason I was not afraid. About my visitor there was a powerful aura filled with wisdom, sorrow, and compassion. Instantly I knew she was very old and strong, although her physical appearance was that of a slightly built girl, perhaps seventeen. Like the Anwi she was clad in star-white, her long flowing gown contrasting dramatically with the shadowy waterfall of her hair. Unlike them, however, she had no visible wings, although I did not doubt she could have flown anywhere, had she wished. Her dark eyes were filled with reflection, and seemed somehow sad and joyful at once. If I thought I caught a glimmer of starlight in Lomelil's eyes, I know I did in my unearthly visitor's. As she turned her gaze to me, I knew at once that she could perceive every thought and emotion. Yet even so, her glance was kind.
"Well met, Child of Men," she greeted me gently. "You know who I am." Indeed, I found that I did.
"You are she whom they name the Dreamweaver," I breathed in awe, "--Lady Tailawithre."
"I am she," the Faiyare answered with a smile. After a moment, she became graver--almost concerned, I though--and observed, "You are confused, and afraid."
"I am, my lady," I replied, not used to having my mind read so easily. Suddenly, a thought struck me. "Have you come to weave me a dream, Lady Dreamweaver?" Tailawithre laughed.
"I have, Galen," she said, and as she took my hand, the scene abruptly changed.
We stood on a starlit mountain top, beneath which the breaking City lay. I knew this must be the mountain on which the tower stood, for the waterfall was directly to our left.
"I have brought you here to help erase your doubt and confusion," said Tailawithre. "What do you wish to understand more fully?"
Picking one out of a thousand questions, I answered, "Why is it that only a mortal may go into the tower and set all to rights?"
Pausing a moment as if to consider, my Visitor replied, "Like the Anwi, the Shadowbeasts and their lord are bound to this World, even when their earthly shells die. I am as well, as are all the Faiyari. But those who are meant to die rather than live until Are is remade will cross the Forever Sea someday, and pass from the World all together. Uthanion cannot fully comprehend this--none of us can, who cannot yet cross that shore--and what he cannot understand, his servants certainly cannot. It is being mortal that gives you, even before death, a kind of elusiveness. That may save you where the immortal Anwi would fail. It is also true that Avru delights in empowering the weak to foil the strong, and that is another part of the answer to your question. I must warn you: the danger is real, but you may still accomplish this and free Cascathal."
"What would I have to do?" I asked.
"The problem lies at the source of this waterfall, which wells from within the Starglobe, just as the Starglobe itself is the heart of the City," Tailawithre explained. "Someone must go inside the Starglobe, to find out what the Shadowbeasts have done to it, and set all to rights. If you agree to do this, I will use what power is allotted to me there to protect you, but you are the one who must accomplish it." Once more she paused. "If you live throught this, have no fear: you will return to the Anwi. Your road is different from Ayille's. But what road will you choose now, Galen Wanderer?" Thinking of all I had seen, I suddenly felt all my confusion change to resolve.
"I will do it," I said, lifting my chin. "There is only one thing--how am I to do it?"
"Climb up to the tower, as they've told you. You have clear eyes and will see the right path from there. But for now, you must rest." Leaning forward, she lightly touched my brow, and the vision dissolved once more into dreamless slumber.
The next morning, I informed Lord Cistredar of my choice.
"We are much indebted to you," he said, and deeply inclined his head. Following that, he and a host of others guided me to a place near the waterfall, where a rocky stairway led up the steep cliff. So that is my road, I thought. For some reason I've always loved rather than feared hights, and that would come in handy in this case.
"We will await your return," Cistredar told me, then I caught sight of Lomelil hurrying up to us.
"I want to lend you this," she said, handing me a clear white gem that glittered like water beneath the stars. "It might be useful." Wondering what she meant but glad of her aid, I thanked her, and started up the stairs. Looking down once, I saw that the City was near to destruction, and my resolved to save them or die trying was strenghtened. Even if I should die, though, I did not think that my other Quest, my search for the Call, would be left unfinished. After all, I was looking for Light, and that may be found in more ways than one.
After climbing so high that the murmering voices of the gathered Anwi no longer reached me, I found that the stairway ended. In a dreamlike world of silence and light, I stepped onto the sparkling snow of a fairly broad ledge near the top of the mountain. Before me, an airy tower thrust its gleaming spire toward heaven. Knowing I had finished the first stage of my journey, I walked closer to it. On a door of that same white substance so seemingly treasured by the Anwi, silver letters were etched on the otherwise featureless surface. Although I didn't know the characters, somehow I understood their message, and knew what I should do. First though, I looked up again at the tower. From a high window, a strange, unearthly light glittered, radiant even in the sunlit morning. Somehow it drew me, as did the song of the stars. Drawing a deep breath, I pushed open the door, and gasped at what I saw.
Suspended apparently without support, a star-colored stairway spiraled endlessly both upwards and down, without guard or railing. All around it, a thousand twinkling points of brilliance bejeweled the darness that stretched away on all sides--I could not see the tower's inner walls. Although it was astounding, I suppose it should have come as no surprise that a place like this was enchanted.
Suddenly, I realized that the nearest stair was too far away to reach easily, and no bridge or causeway spanned the star-strewn depths at my feet. How would I continue? Well, I couldn't stop now--there was nothing for it but to try and reach the staircase.
Tentatively I began to step forward, firmly grasping the doorway, and found a step easily underfoot. How could that be? Puzzled, I looked back, and saw the doorway now as a far away rectangle of daylight--much farther off than it had been. Well, I suppose the supernatural works like that--you can't hope to explain it by logic, and indeed I wouldn't want to. Perhaps space worked differently in this mysterious tower. Not wishing to delay, I started climbing once again.
For how long I ascended that staircase, I cannot say. Perhaps time as well as space worked differently there. Gazing downward into the strange galaxy, I found I was exhilarated rather than frightened. As I said before, I've always harboured a strange delight at being high up, perhaps connected the my childhood wish for wings. I don't know why, but that's how I am.
At last, I descried the same light shining above me that I had seen outside. Strangely, I could see no visible source that it came from--at a certain point in space, it simply ended, as if coming through a window or some other obstruction. Shortly however, this staircase also ended, and led me to a doorway in mid-air, through which I entered a small circular room that had been invisible to me before.
What immediately drew my attention was the source of that ethereal light I had seen twice now. Brighter than all the stars, a dazzling orb of snow-white fire seemed to float in the center of the room, and I could well believe it was the heart of the City, or even of the World. Like the Call, it caught my heart and captured my gaze, yet for all its brilliance didn't blind me. Indeed, this was well, for even had I wished to, I do not know if I could have looked away. Once again, I knew what course I should take. As unafraid as when Tailawithre had visited me, I walked toward the Starglobe, and let it pull me deep into it's white radiance.
Once inside, it took a moment for my head to clear, for it was a bit like being in a hurricane of light. When it did, however, I recognised a slender, dark-haired figure with an aura of power about her. Seeing me, Tailawithre smiled. "Welcome to Cascathal's heart, child of Men. I see Lomelil has lent you her gem--that is well, for it may aid you in an unexpected way. As I said before, I will help you as I can, although you must complete this task. Come--I will lead you to the waterfall's source."
Through the Starglobe's swirling white fire we walked, which soon dissapated enough that I could see a rolling green country, with a forest not far ahead. With a start, I caught sight of a distant line of bluish hills, and wondered if this country were in some strange way the one that I'd been journeying through yesterday morning. After walking for a few minutes, more, however, Tailawithre stopped, and bade me come closer.
"They are close/listen," she warned me quietly, and I knew she meant the Shadowbeasts. From within the forest, I could hear fell cries on the wind, and bloodthirsty shrieks. Was it my imagination, or were they coming closer...?
"Let us hope they are still unaware of our presence," the Faiyare said, and we continued.
Soon after, I heard the babbling of a stream, which Tailawithre told me was the waterfall's source. No sooner did she say it, though, than a hoard of Shadowbeasts came tearing out of the forest toward us, with their leathery wings, pointed fangs, and burning red eyes.
"Go!" cried my companion, sending a piercing beam after beam of white radiance toward our foes. When it hit one, it would scream in pain, and circle around to renew its attack.
As for me, I was racing toward the stream, to set to rights whatever had gone wrong. When I got there--I easily saw the problem--a shiny, poisonous-looking black stone had been set in the water, near where it bubbled out of the ground. As the water flowed past it, it turned dark as well, and from there on cracked the stones of the streambed, and withered the growing things it touched.
So this was what Uthanion had done in his attempt to destroy Cascathal. Although I was loath to have any contact with it, it seemed my only choice was to take it out of the water and somehow destroy it, and when I thought of the Anwi, I knew I would do anything to save them. Slowly but with determination, I made my way toward it.
As I did so, however, a strange sensation came over me. My head was swirling...what was I fighting for? Was it really worth it if I suddenly couldn't remember like this? Why should I do this thing anyway, and for those who I barely knew? But even in this short time, they've become dear to me, especially Lomelil, and I have to save them... Why? There would be no thanks. Why should they do anything for a mortal? All would come to darkness, anyway--there is no Light, no Call--
No!
Wrenching myself out of these dark thoughts, I eyed the blackly glistening object with distaste, and realized I had come to a halt. Whatever that thing was doing to me, it had more power than I'd originally thought, and I'd have to be carefull not to let it influence me.
Hearing Tailawithre shout a warning, I ducked as one of our attackers dove toward me. A beam of light flashed overhead to meet it--there was a scorching sound, and the Shadowbeast fled. Still, there was more to be done. Trying to concentrate on the Light I loved, I continued with my task. As I went on, however, I seemed to be more weighed down with each step. That thing kept dragging me down into a dark reverie that shut light out. No matter how I tried, to hold onto them, I was slowly forgetting all my high ideals, even my longing for the Call, till at last there was only one thought left--I must accomplish this task. With a last effort, I bent down to pick up the stone, though I harldy remembered why.
As my fingers made contact with its smooth, black surface, however, I froze. Although my hand felt burned by that touch, I couldcouldn't move, almost completely locked in crushing jaws of despair...
...till something cold and hard and real fell into my free hand, where I stared at it blindly for a moment before realizing what it was. Then, as from a great distance at first, there came into focus a starlike point of brilliance against the dark that held me captive. More welcome than the first light of morning it seemed, and more beautiful than the song of the Gloaming Star. Slowly I recognised it as the crystalline gem that Lomelil had lent me, shining peacefully of its own accord.
"Starlight, starbright," I murmered softly, remembering a child's rhyme of my homeland. As from a great distance, I heard the shrieks of the Shadowbeasts growing more desperate--it seemed that Tailawithre was close to victory. So was I.
"...First star I see tonight..."
Even amidst the turmoil of the battles both without and within me, I was aware of a peace born of certainty. The real war was, and would always be, won. As for this fray, Tailawithre had been right--once again, I could see clearly which road to follow. I am the Wanderer, after all.
"...Out of Darkness grant me Light!"
No sooner had I spoken than yet another dazzling beam of radiance shot out, this time from the gem straight into the black stone's heart. There was a hiss, as if of pain, that came from it, and my other hand was released. The stone began go shake violently, and dust filled the air. The Shadowbeasts fled, and a cleansing radiance spread throughout the stream, which seemed to sing. In the general chaos, I tried to stumble away, coughing as the dust seared my lungs. I had not gone more than a few steps, however, when I felt Tailawithre take gently take my hand.
"It's time to go," she said.
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Once again, a starry sea was all about me. This time, however, the stairway was nowhere in sight--indeed, I didn't know if I was in the same galaxy as before, though I somehow thought I was--like the Starglobe, I seemed to be floating amidst the darkness, with the Lady of Dreams beside me.
Smiling, she said, "Well done, Galen Wanderer. The Anwi will remember your name in song and story long after you have crossed the Forever Sea. They owe a debt to you, and their memories are long."
"I could not have done it without you, my Lady," I replied, "or without Lomelil's gem."
"Tell her that," said Tailawithre. "She would be glad to hear it."
"I'll also tell them how much you helped me," I promised, and she thanked me with a smile.
"Where is the stairway, my Lady?" I inquiered.
"Over there." She pointed, and I could see a silvery spiral glimmering as from far away. "Come." Once again, almost immediately after she started to lead me to it, we were there. If I hadn't been certain before, this would have convinced me: this was no ordinary staircase!
As Tailawithre and I descended, the journey seemed much shorter than when I had first come. Soon, we came to an open doorway in the starstrewn blackness, through which sunlight could still be seen.
"This is where I leave you, Galen," my companion murmered, a bit sadly I thought.
Feeling a pang, I asked, "Will I ever see you again, my Lady?" At that, her grave expression changed once more to a smile.
"Look for me in dreams, and call to me when you need me. I will remember you as well--my memory is even longer than that of the Anwi." Not knowing what else to say, I held her gaze for a moment, then turned to go back to the world.
With ease I made the journey back down the mountainside, and the Anwi, still waiting, let out a cheer when I came into view. Right away I noticed that the City was whole and healed once more--fountains flashed, trees lifed there green branches to the sky, and the waterfall and river were of liquid crystal. As soon as I was back on the ground, Cistradar came and told me the Anwi would always hold me in high honour--but suddenly he paused to gaze intently at my face. Puzzled, I respectfully returned his look.
"What are you from, Galen Wanderer?" the lord asked me. I told him the name of my home city.
"So that is why I thought I recognised you!" Cistredar exclaimed wonderingly. "I neglected to mention that after Ayille had left, her brother set out for the East, and founded that very place. I can clearly see that you are descended from him--tonight we shall have a feast honouring you both as our rescuer and long lost kin." Although I was stunned speechless, thankfully no words seemed to be needed, for he began at once to seek out various Anwi, instructing them in the preprations. Quietly Lomelil came to stand beside me.
"I suppose that was why you reminded me so much of my uncle--cousin," she added, seeming very happy at this turn of events.
Gathering my wits enough to hold the gem out to her, I said, "I want to thank you for lending me this. I couldn't have done what I did without it."
"I'm glad," the Anwe replied. As she looked at it, strange expression came over her face. "I think it belongs to you now," she told me. When I started to protest, she added, "Please consider it a gift--I want you to have something to remember us by, as we will always remember you." Knowing I could not refuse, I thanked her.
That night, there was indeed a splendid feast, at which I told my story in full. For a week following that, the Anwi continued to celebrate, but at last I knew the time had come for me to continue my journey. Having taken leave of Cistredar the previous evening, I slipped out through the tunnel in the early morning light. However, someone was waiting for me.
"Do you have to go?" Lomelil asked a bit forlornly.
"The West still calls to me, and I have another Quest I must finish," I said gently.
Smiling then through her tears, my friend--and cousin--replied, "I know you will find it, just as the first king did. May Neina's starlight illumine your road until we meet again!"
"May the Dreamweaver guide you in darkness," I responded in kind, and turned to continued my journey.
My last memory of Lomelil is of looking back to see her still watching me, a slender white figure against the grey mountains. Seeing me watching her, she waved once, and so did I, before facing the West once more. Perhaps our paths shall cross again someday, but first I must fulfill my search.
Speaking of which, the tide is turning. It is late--I too must turn my prow toward the Sunset. I was glad to talk with you, wise sir, sharing tales of your long life and that part of mine which has already past. Farewell--as you bade me, I will search till I find it--if mortal may--or die, for that which is to you the Gleam and to me the Call. I must go--my ship rocks at her moorings, and my heart longs to follow the Last Road, which will take me to the Light that I now know dwells in the West.
