Part XV:
The Master of Twilighthum
11th of Felsite, 383“Tea?”
The travelers were gathered in the central chamber of the roundhouse. A newt woman, who had introduced herself as Pethit Breathgleamed, was attending to them with a tray of simple clay cups and a copper tea kettle. They sat around a table with warm blankets and furs wrapped around them. Coals burned in a brazier next to them offering some extra warmth and a little bit of light. Their clothes had been taken to dry at the kitchen's hearth by a muskrat man named Zes, who had just returned and seemed eager to get acquainted with the visitors.
The crab man, Cutthroz Holybarb, who welcomed them outside, had gone upstairs to tell the Master of Twilighthum of their arrival. In the meanwhile they were to make themselves at home and Pethit and Zes would see to their needs.
“Yes, please,” Sibrek answered the newt woman. Several nods and other signs of acceptance followed from the others.
“It's made from dried muck root, raspberry leaves and some other herbs,” the newt woman said as she poured the hot tea into the cups. “It's got a bitter taste, but it's good for the nerves -- calms you down -- and eases pain. You look like you've been in a scrap or two.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” Tanzul said, being the first to lift his cup to his lips and brave the taste of the rather foul-odored liquid.
“It's nice to have some guests 'round,” Zes the muskrat man said. “It ain't such a frequent occurrence here these days.”
“So, what is this place exactly, if I may ask?” Sibrek turned to the muskrat man from his cup. He still had a bit of an unsure expression of the place on his face.
“This? This is Twilighthum,” the muskrat man replied, noticing the capybara man's uneasiness. “Just a small outpost at the outskirts of the Fragrant Forests. There's a small community of us living here, guided by Master Themiyi. 'The Raven of Gods', that's what he calls us. Quite the name, eh? We consider it our part to keep these blessed lands safe from ravaging beast and prowling monster.”
“You probably saw the warning at the bridge,” Pethit added. “I don't fancy such a display myself, but the marsh frog men... Well, they have some peculiar ways and they kept on insisting. It does seem to do the trick, though.”
“Ah, yes... We saw that,” Maloy joined the conversation. “A rather macabre sight and caused a bit of discomfort among us, I have to admit... We did run into some trouble on the way here. Feral giant dingoes ambushed us in the night and almost had the better of us. Then, earlier this day, we ran into something... Something of a more evil nature. Something truly vile... A creature of the Night.”
Maloy turned to look at a bone figurine on one of the pedestals that had caught his attention earlier and pointed at it. “The creature looked very much like that one,” he said.
“Hm? A man of shadow?” Zes lifted his brows. “Horrible, twisted abominations they are. Night trolls Themiyi calls them. Count yourselves lucky to have survived such an encounter.”
There was a moment of silence around the table.
“You speak of this... Master,” Sibrek said as he put down his tea cup. He was probably the only one who liked the taste of it and hadn't made a wrinkled face after the first sip. “What can you tell us about this Themiyi? What should we expect, since we're supposed to meet him?”
“Tell about Master Themiyi? A good question, that one,” the muskrat man replied, scratching his chin and then twirling a whisker. “Now then, what to say, where to start?”
“He's a kindly man. A cheerful fellow,” Pethit jumped in while Zes was thinking. “He's one of the elves of Ula Tefe. One of the last in these lands, looking after the wilds that once were at the heart of the realm. He's just and humble. He's everything a good Master ought to be.”
Edzul shifted a bit uncomfortably upon hearing that this so-called 'Master' was an elf. He had suspected as much and didn't like the thought of being in the home of a tree-lover, especially one from Ula Tefe -- war had broken between the elves and the dwarves of the Bent Spears not so long ago. Fortunately their hosts didn't notice, or pay heed to, Edzul's expression, and they went on with their chatter.
“Themiyi isn't the typical elf, though,” Zes continued on what Pethit had started. “He has traveled far and wide, taking in ways and ideas from many kinds of folk. He's sort of the scholarly type, a philosopher in a sense, but with the heart of an adventurer.”
“And he loves the stars,” Pethit went on. “He spends most clear nights looking at them. Reading them. Contemplating. Trying to understand them. And, I think, he actually knows what the stars tell him.”
“Ah, the stars!” Astesh exclaimed with wonder. “Ôsed's guiding lights in the night, the blessed souls, bringing Light into the Darkness wrought by the Prince of Duty! Such a wonder they are, such praise they deserve! Oh, to be able to speak with them!”
The muskrat man and newt woman turned to the capybara woman, looking at her curiously.
“It is by the Great Doe Rabbit's Will and Guidance we have set on our Journey,” Astesh continued, zeal gleaming in her eyes. “If what you say is true, that your Master can speak with the Stars, surely we have not come here by mere chance then.”
“No, probably not by chance,” Zes said to the capybara woman. “The Master does not believe in such things. Everything has a purpose and reason he says... But you speak of a journey. What has driven you to brave these savage lands? Where is it that you are headed?”
“Ah, we all have our reasons,” Sibrek replied, eager to get a word in. “From the North we come, some from the dwarf lands, some from further off. But we all share a common destination: a place called Waterlures.”
“Waterlures? I've heard of the place,” the muskrat man said, twirling his whiskers again. “It's not that far from here. Your journey is near to its end, then. A big place it is. Crowded streets, bustling with life. Capybara folk and other animal peoples. Elves, humans, dwarves... Never visited it myself, but I've given it a thought or two.”
The conversation was interrupted by the scent of delicious cooked food wafting into the room. Noses twitched taking in the aroma and empty bellies began to rumble.
“It seems the stew is ready,” Pethit said, glancing over her shoulder at the doorway. “If you'll excuse me, I'll go take a look and serve you dinner in a moment.”
Pethit brought food to the tables and the travelers ate it eagerly, continuing to discuss this and that with their hosts. They lost track of time, but it must have been late when the crab man Cutthroz finally came back from the Master. Enough time had passed for most of the travelers' clothes to dry -- the marsh frog men had been quite efficient -- and blankets and furs were changed back to proper attire.
“You eat finish?,” the crab man said from the door, clicking his pincers for attention. “Good. Master ready to meet you. You ready to meet Master. Come, come. Follow.”
And so the the travelers followed the crab man...
...heading up many steep and narrow and creaking wooden stairs...
...up, up, up, until they came into a room with a pillar in the center. Some bookcases were set on one wall and pedestals against the other. Curiously, the bookcases were devoid of any books, but all manner of miscellania were placed randomly on the shelves -- as if someone had put them there for a moment, and then forgotten about them.
At the end of the room was one more set of stairs and Tanzul, who was in the lead, could hear the crab man calling from above, “We here. Climb stairs. Enter Master's chambers. Good.”
The stairs led into a rather large study with windows of leaded cut gems, the cames forming intricate patterns, on the north and east walls. Ahead of them in front of the north window was a sturdy desk made from the bones of some creature. Behind the desk sat an elf.
There was a flash and puff of smoke as the crab man, standing next to the desk, threw something on the ground.
“Behold! Great Master Themiyi! Lord-Warden, High Raven, Star-Knower, Troll-Slayer, World-Walker, All--” the crab man began proclaiming, but was cut off by the elf.
“That will be quite enough, Cutthroz,” the elf said with a stern and commanding voice as he studied his guests with his strikingly blue close-set eyes. He stood up and walked around the table, stepping closer to the odd bunch of animal people and dwarves. Cutthroz stuck close to his 'Master', following his moves, smiling and nodding stupidly, ready to serve in an instant like a butler from a nobleman's house.
“So, you are the ones who come from the North and braved the dangers of the Forest of Rooters?”, the elf asked, his tone all the time very serious. His gaze turned to Astesh and her missing ear as he continued, “I see you did not come through it unscathed. These are troubling times and the wilds of Ula Tefe are full of peril unlike in past better days. But I see you did not come unprepared. Very wise of those who are headed south to Waterlures.”
“H-how did you know that?”, Tanzul stammered, quite surprised and caught off-guard by the elf saying things he couldn't possibly have known.
“An educated guess,” the tall elf replied, brushing aside a lock of his long golden-yellow hair that had fallen on his face.
“Master know things. Master know you will come,” the crab man said proudly. “Nothing escape Master. He has Power.”
“Eh? Power? You are a sorceror then?”, Galel addressed the elf with distrust. The ostrich man was suspicious of the elf and what he might be: the first thing he had noticed when they entered the study was a large, worn-out chalked circle on the floor. It had smaller circles in it and lines and odd geometric patterns created strange, disorienting shapes. It looked very much like something a sorceror would have -- not that Galel knew anything of such things, except for what he had heard.
The elf glanced at Galel piercingly and said, “If you mean by that, do I run around raising corpses and raining death and destruction upon the world, no. No, I am no necromancer.”
“Well, what is this then?”, Galel asked, pointing at the floor with his beak and sweeping his foot along the circumference of the chalked circle. “Looks suspiciously like witchcraft or some sort of devilry to me.”
The air in the room tensed as the elf and ostrich man glared at each other. The rest of the group became anxious and uneasy due to the suspension, unsure of where things were headed from here. Even the crab man seemed worried (and quite confused).
“That. Is no concern of yours,” the elf finally replied sharply, his impatient tone implying that further questions would not be taken kindly. ”You are guests in my house and welcome to stay. But I will not tolerate accusations of dabbling in the Dark Arts under
my roof, so hold your tongue, young master ostrich.” He then eased his stance, and continued with a much calmer voice, “Regardless, I can assure you that I am not one who consorts with the Night nor conjures the powers of Darkness. You are quite safe around me.
That I can promise.”
“Excuse my friend and his hasty words, Master elf,” Coni stepped forward and bowed, “I am Coni Pocketstand, and clearly luck must be on our side for us finding our way to your house. Praise to Jalew Goldenmatched for that!” Just as the elf was about to reply, she blurted out, “Say, your cloak really, really is of unmatched quality. Absolutely stunning. Where does one get such garments?”
The elf was baffled, not knowing whether Coni was insulting or complimenting him in all honesty. Winces and grimaces went around the room and Edzul covered his face with a hand. Dimbulb's simple mind, however, did not see Coni's words as anything else than flattery.
“Oh... Uh, maybe that didn't come out quite as I intended... Sorry,” the hamster woman said, shuffling into the crowd with embarrassment. The elf smiled, threw his head back a bit and laughed.
“Worry not, hamster woman,” he said cheerfully. “I am Themiyi Mothersoothes, Warden of Twilighthum. And this cloak? It is something I have procured during my travels from a tailor whose name and home, alas, escapes me for the time being.”
With that the suspense was broken and everyone introduced themselves one by one. Galel was still somewhat wary of the elf, as was Edzul, though in his case it was just because Themiyi was, well, an elf of Ula Tefe. The travelers (except Edzul, who remained silent and kept his hands crossed across his chest) told where they hailed from and of their journey and what they had faced during it. Themiyi was especially interested to hear more of the adventures of Tanzul, Coni, Galel and Dimbulb and what was the current situation with the necromancers in the far north. The elf seemed disappointed when everything they knew was something he was seemingly already aware of. The travelers in turn asked Themiyi about the old elf lands and Twilighthum, and he gave a brief history of Ula Tefe and how Twilighthum was built on an old elven outpost. Themiyi did not go into much details and some questions he did not answer at all. It was no surprise then that none dared ask more about the chalk circle on the floor nor of the queer charms and talismans hanging from the walls and wood beams.
Eventually the discussion shifted back to the travelers' journey and to their destination, Waterlures.
“What is it that you seek in Waterlures?” Themiyi asked, “Some of you look like the types capable of wielding sword or spear, so is it mercenary work, perhaps? Plenty of need for that in these times, alas. But some of you clearly seek something else there, no?”
“Our reasons are our own,” Galel said sullenly. The ostrich man was about to continue, but Coni jumped in with haste before he could ruin the mood, “...but, indeed, you are correct, Themiyi. There are several of us seeking to do good and protect the innocent from the wickedness plaguing this world.”
“We have heard much of the place,” Sibrek said. “Much good and things that bring hope into our hearts. As life hasn't been so -- how to put it? --
well-off within the realm of the Bent Spears, me and Astesh decided that Waterlures would be the place to start a new life. Somewhere far enough from the, ah,
conflicts and other unfortunate happenings. Perhaps open a humble little shop, peddling this and that?”
“It is still open what we'll do there,” Astesh added. “It'll all depend on what is needed of us. But wealth and a better life is not the only thing we look for there. It is a place filled with the likes of us -- capybara men -- and, most importantly, the Almighty Ôsed is highly revered there. It is kinship and matters of soul and spirit that drives us there, too.”
“Hmm, I see,” Themiyi said, walking to one of the jade pedestals and picking up a bone figurine of horrifying beasts. He looked at it for a moment, turning it in his hand, then put it down. “Yes, Waterlures has become a very special place in Minbazkar. Hope, you said. That is very true. Much has come from there that has brought hope into this world. Things have begun to change. The inevitable does not seem so inevitable anymore. The foul necromancers are losing their stranglehold on the throats of the kingdoms of this world. The numbers of the giants and their kin are dwindling. Even the very age we live in has changed due to it, I've heard. And not only that, but old ruins are being reclaimed by people who have finally gained the courage to pull their heads out of the fisher berry bushes.”
“And you believe it is Waterlures that has done this?” Tanzul asked, his interest in Waterlures growing.
“Yes. And no,” Themiyi answered. “I am uncertain how much of these
changes Waterlures, or its inhabitants, have directly contributed to, or how intentional it has been. Tales of their exploits and heroic deeds might be just that: stories. But what Waterlures clearly has done, is set things in motion -- perhaps unawares -- towards an end which is still clouded to me. However, so far, it is hope that I see in where things are headed. A glimmer of light can be seen in the dark horizon.”
“I believe there is truth in your words, elf,” Osod the llama man spoke. “It is beloved Mater who set me on the path to Waterlures, sending this colorful group my way. What lies at the end of this rainbow I am set to follow, shall be revealed in due time. Perhaps we have a part to play in the grand scheme of things.”
“Perhaps,” Themiyi said, turning to the llama man. “There are things at work here, certainly. Your coming here and our meeting is not one of chance. Perhaps it is the Gods, perhaps it is the Great Forces of all existence behind this.“ The elf paused for a moment, his expression becoming stern again. He then continued, “Now, Waterlures may be a beacon of hope, but its leaders and citizens are oblivious to it. They remain closed, keeping themselves secluded from the happenings of the outer world. However, this, too, is changing. The goblins have taken notice of them, I have heard, and, want it or not, they are becoming involved. They are forced to. But will they understand this? If they do, how far are they willing to go? Will they do what must be done, commit to it, on their own?”
“What do you mean?” Tanzul asked.
“Someone has to show the way,” The elf said, pacing back and forth in front of the group, the crab man scuttling behind him awkwardly. “They need a nudge, a push. Something that will make them realize that currently they are the gears turning the wheel, capable of determining the direction. Someone has to open their eyes to this.”
“Ah, I see... And I suppose that is where we come in, eh?” Galel said sardonically. “Strangers arrive from the north with grand words and, ah, the townsfolk suddenly know their role set by the Gods or what-not?”
The elf stopped pacing abruptly, Cutthroz almost bumping into him, and slowly turned to face the ostrich man.
“Shush, Galel!” Coni hissed.
“No, you shush,” Galel snapped back, shoving the hamster woman back. He then went on, “Let's just cut to the chase and be clear with what it is you want with us.
Master Elf.”
“Galel...” Tanzul began, but shut his mouth when the elf raised his hand.
“It is fine. The ostrich man has a fair request,” Themiyi said. “Very well, I will be direct then. My hope is that you would be the ones to give the push. To encourage Waterlures to take the initiative and not just wait for their enemies to come to them. That is, to tell them that they
need to strike the enemy before the enemy overwhelms them. Attack the goblins. Attack the necromancers. Surprise them. Strike them where it hurts. To--”
“Pssh! Warmongers,” Galel interrupted the elf with a scoff. “You want us to go to Waterlures as warmongers, hah!”
Edzul began waving his hands furiously, the capybaras were taken aback, and one could see from faces in the room a general disapproval as they realized what the elf suggested. Except for the crab man and hippo man, who both looked very confused.
Edzul jabbed Pife with his elbow, motioning him to translate his message to the elf. “Uh, um, m-my friend here... He w-w-wants to say that... Say that...” Pife piped out, his voice failing him.
“Something about elves, I presume? Something insulting, perhaps” Themiyi said with indifference. Pife squeaked, nodded and gulped.
“I am sorry, Master elf,” Sibrek said with sadness and disappointment in his voice. “Your suggestion is something I will not accept, and I believe the others of us feel the same. We seek a place shielded from the troubles of this grim world, a place of solace, and I will not bring those troubles with me.”
“And some of us wish to strengthen that shield,” Maloy joined in. “There is already enough war and death in this world. We do not seek to increase it.”
“Chaos. War. Death. That is what you are asking us to herald,” Astesh raised her voice. “You would ask us to do a service for the Prince herself. We are
not her harbingers, and we will not be used by her. Search your heart, elf: has Abod stolen into your soul and tricked you into her servitude?”
There was an uproar among the group with everyone trying to yell over each other, demanding the elf to answer Astesh's question or bringing up further accusations of some sort of devilry or malevolence. Osod did his best to try and calm the commotion, but it was no easy task this time.
Themiyi sighed, but otherwise remained temperate. He waited for the room to quiet down before he spoke.
“I am no servant of the Dark Gods nor of the Night, as I told you, and I do not like being accused of being one,” he said with a heaviness in his tone. “However, chaos, war and death are already here, and this Abod, this Prince of Duty,
will find her way into Waterlures, no matter what you -- or I -- do. What I would have proposed is to try to put an end to it, to keep suffering and grief to a minimum. If nothing is done, the Prince's flail will strike harder. Yes, there will be death, but how much? There will be war, but how long? There will be chaos, but how deep? These are the questions that need to be asked, that have no simple answers.”
Themiyi paused for a moment, turned to look out the window at the stars, and continued, “If there ever was a time to act against all evil in the world, it is now. Everything points to it, I have seen it... But I will not force you to act against your will and conscience. And if you have indeed made your choice, we do not have to discuss this matter longer, and we can turn our attention to more pleasant topics.”
“Pardon me, but I am confused. If this is so important, then why not go yourself to tell all this?” Tanzul asked the elf. “Why not go and fight yourself against the Darkness? Why ask travelers you have just met? Why would you trust strangers with such an important task?”
“My duty lies here. I cannot leave my post. I am needed here and there are other matters I must tend to,” Themiyi replied without hesitation. “As for trust... That, I believe, wouldn't be an issue. Still, perhaps I will find other messengers then, if need be. But, forgive me, it is getting late and you all must be weary. Cutthroz will show you to your quarters where you may rest for the night. I myself will head out to watch the stars, so it may be that we do not meet before you leave. If that will be the case, I wish you a safe and swift journey to Waterlures. May the gods walk with you.”
Before good night wishes and farewells were exchanged, Themiyi said that if anyone would like to join him and watch the stars, they were welcome to do so. Cutthroz then led the guests down and showed them where they could sleep for the rest of the night.
Once the crab man left, the group began to discuss their exchange with Themiyi, keeping their voices hushed. Most had mixed feelings and were unsure of the elf. None of them had a clear picture of what kind of person he was: on the one hand he seemed shifty and secretive, but on the other he seemed to be polite and honest, wishing to do good in the world.
“This all left me confused,” Sibrek said as he took off his cap and began twirling it in his paws. “Did he not strike any of you as a rather... Hmm...
Odd fellow?”
There were nods in the room, and Galel said, “Well, quite more than odd, I'd say. The chap was clearly hiding things, or, not
really hiding, since all that stuff that stank of witchery was in plain sight. He just outright refused to tell what that circle and all the suspicious knick-knacks were. Guess he knew we wouldn't have liked to hear the truth.”
“I hate to say this of our host, but I felt like it was more out of sheer arrogance than being secretive,” Idar said what impressions the elf had left. “He probably thought we wouldn't understand or something. Typical elf, if you ask me. Always thinking of themselves as being better and wiser than everyone else.”
Edzul nodded and grunted agreeingly.
“Couldn't agree more on that one,” Galel said as he stroked his beak. “He is definitely a sorceror or someone who dabbles in things not meant for us mortals. He ain't fooling me. Didn't you lot hear what he said? 'I have seen it.' Now if that doesn't point in the direction of some sort of abhorrent divination, I don't know what does.”
“Oh please! He could have meant something else. That's an outright ridiculous conclusion! And besides, divination is not wrong or evil, Galel,” Coni entered the discussion in defense of the elf. “Plenty of decent cults practice it. It's not like we haven't rolled the dice.”
“Pssh! And what good that did to Tanzul: a week of bad luck, hah!” Galel scoffed and snorted. “No, but I didn't mean that kind of divining. I meant other kinds. The nasty, foul, foreboding ones. Like conjuring spirits of the dead and asking the future from them. Now why else would there have been such a suspicious circle in the elf's room if not for something like that, hmh?”
Tanzul sighed as he listened to the conversation going on in the room. There were certainly things the elf left untold, but Tanzul did not for one instance believe in Galel's absurd accusations and assumptions of some sort of devilry. He felt that the elf was trustworthy and there must have been much he could tell, if only he would be listened to. But Galel had made his mind, the dwarves obviously held a grudge against elves, and the zealous capybaras saw the Dark Gods in everything they didn't understand...
Without a word, Tanzul left the room and headed back upstairs.
Tanzul thought of the elf's words as he walked towards Themiyi's quarters. It was true that war was already in the world. In fact, it had been for a long time. And because of it the world was in chaos after much, too much, death. During his brief travels Tanzul had seen the aftermath: how warlords and bandit chieftains held the populace in their grip. Chaos and war was in their interests, it seemed. But to cause more war in an effort to bring it to an end... Perhaps it was necessary? Yet wouldn't it lead to just more suffering and more tragedy? The elf seemed to think so, but also believed that in the end there would be less if things were to go according to his plans. But what if they didn't? How could he be sure of it? Or was it just a gamble?
Tanzul was conflicted. He had put an end to more than one bandit with his friends. It must have made things better in those places. Put an end to the chaos there. But their actions had not put others -- innocents -- in danger. War was different. Or was it? Was it not the same, but only in a larger scale? War certainly had its uses, and despite all the suffering it caused, Tanzul had to admit that deep down, he wanted to experience the glory of the battlefield. To be part of the spectacle. A hero bringing the enemy down and saving the world. Perhaps it was as Osod had said,
'There can be no Light without Darkness'?
He needed more time to think. But there was still time before they would be in Waterlures, and perhaps there it would become clear what he should do.
“Ah, Tanzul,” Themiyi turned around as the fox man stepped to the doorway leading to the balcony. “I hoped that you would come and join me. Come, please, let us watch the stars together.”
Tanzul walked to the balcony and leaned on the rail. He looked up at the stars that shone brightly in the clear night sky. He breathed deeply of the air as a cool breeze blew.
“Look, over there,” Themiyi pointed at a cluster of stars. “That constellation is called the Crundle. And that slightly to the right of it is the Bent Spear. Can you see them?”
“I think so,” Tanzul said as he squinted his eyes, trying to make out which stars the elf had pointed at. “The Bent Spear? As in the dwarf kingdom of the Bent Spears?”
“Yes, precisely,” the elf said, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he looked at the sky. “It is said that a long time ago some of the dwarven clans of the north named their fledgling kingdom after those stars. But in those stars a great tragedy was written. They were warned that to take that name would bring ruin to them, but they laughed and took it as their own just to mock Fate. Or so it is told.”
“What happened?” Tanzul asked.
“Their arrogance and selfishness brought the goblins of the Tight Torments into this world,” Themiyi answered. “But you should ask your dwarf friends about it, if you want to know the full story. Though, it is unlikely they will tell you. I doubt that even the capybaras of your group that hail from the kingdom know the legend. It is something the dwarves would wish to forget and they tell of it mainly to their own kin, of their own kingdom.”
“Maybe I will ask them, if a good moment comes,” Tanzul said while he continued to watch the stars. There was something soothing in their twinkling, something that made you feel that everything will turn out alright eventually, no matter how dark things may seem. Perhaps they were really the souls of the Rabbit Goddess's faithful who shone in the sky? It was hard to imagine that anything foul could ever come from the stars.
The two stood silently and watched. A shooting star streaked across the sky. Tanzul let out a delighted gasp, “Did you see that? Truly a blessed sign!”
“Ah, you believe it to be a good omen,” Themiyi said, smiling. “I wouldn't have expected that from someone traveling with followers of Ôsed.”
“How so?” Tanzul turned to face the elf.
“To them, it can be good or bad, or most likely much more complicated than that,” Themiyi said. “Stars have many meanings to them, and since they hold the belief that the stars are the souls of the departed, returned to their maker, they are very, very important to them. A falling star could very well be the Dark Gods snatching a soul from Ôsed, or perhaps a loved one being sent back to the world of the living. Perhaps for a holy quest or the like. Always a portent of significance and great importance. Sometimes it feels like the Rabbit's followers revere the stars more than their dear Goddess.”
“What do you believe then?” Tanzul asked.
“I believe they are stars. But also that they can tell us many a thing,” Themiyi replied leaning on the railing and looking up at the sky. “There is a force that runs through everything, through all living and inanimate, through river and creek. Even through the stars and the entirety of the cosmos. Our very souls are part of this force. In Ula Tefe the force -- or its embodiment, so to speak -- is known as Ithithe the Gorge of Apes. Wherever it ebbs and flows it leaves traces of itself, like the threads of a woven fabric, forming intricate patterns in a cosmic tapestry. Yet these threads are more akin to musical notes and chords. One could say that all of existence is a grand composition, and if one pays attention and is aware of certain truths, one can foresee where the melody will progress and take us. This is at the core of reading the stars. To know and feel the force, and with this see what is to come.”
“Not souls of the departed then? The stars, I mean,” Tanzul said.
Themiyi did not answer immediately, but continued to watch the stars, captivated by them.
“No,” he finally said, turning to look at the fox man. “But they could be, and in a sense, they are. Ithithe is something that is outside and without the divine, but also within. Ithithe is everything: you, me, tree and stone. Ithithe is everything what has been, what will be, and what could be. All at the same time.”
“These things are beyond my understanding,” Tanzul said resting his head on his paws. “All the talk of the gods and this, uh, force makes me feel so tiny and insignificant. If everything is preordained, what point is there in anything? As if we are just playthings of higher powers with no control of our actions in the end. The thought feels... Wrong. That would be like they are some kind of ruffians, forcing us to do things we'd rather not. It can't be right.”
“That is a rather simplistic view, and one which certainly is not true, Tanzul,” the elf looked at the fox man. “I do not think you understood things correctly. Perhaps you should pause and consider it for a moment. I can not say much of the gods and their whims, but I can say that Ithithe, the force, is far more complicated than that. Ithithe does not seek to control with power, but to share it. Ithithe grants
everything power and the possibility to change the course of what is to come. What the future holds has been written, but at the same time it is being constantly re-written by all of us and our actions. It is without power -- without Ithithe -- that everything would be meaningless, all standing still, breathless. Without power there would be... Nothing.”
“I just don't know,” Tanzul sighed.
“Let us not dwell on it then,” Themiyi said tapping the fox man lightly on his shoulder.
Once again the two watched the stars in silence. Tanzul's thoughts returned to what Themiyi had asked them to do when they reach Waterlures. While he thought he maybe understood what the elf wanted to accomplish, it really did not make sense to him, and he saw no way why the folk of Waterlures would listen to them. Why would they listen to a group of strangers telling them that they should go to war? They'd be fools if they did so. But even if they did, how could one town possibly vanquish such many an opponent?
There had to be something Themiyi wasn't telling.
“Do you really believe Waterlures could make a difference?” Tanzul finally asked the elf.
“Yes,” Themiyi replied, still looking at the stars.
“How?” Tanzul raised his brows.
“You will see when the time is right,” the elf smiled, stretched his arms and inhaled deeply of the fresh night air. He turned to the fox man, put a hand on his shoulder and continued, “I know that you will do what you think is right. I am confident of it. But it is getting late, my friend, and you have a journey to finish tomorrow. It is time for you to go and rest. I know you have still many a question, but there will be no more answers. Not from me. I have already said more than enough.”
With that Themiyi ushered Tanzul inside, bid him good night and a safe journey. Tanzul was confused and at a loss of words due to the sudden end of the conversation. Not knowing what else to do, he headed back down to the quarters where he had left his companions.
(continued in next post...)