Mewnoma breathed several times to steady himself before starting on his quest for revenge and to help bring an end to the evil that has been plaguing his people. After he centered himself, he turned to Stephen, “Are you ready?”
“I’m always ready.” Stephen replied, his eyes shining and his white hair glowing in the sun.
Mewnoma whispered, “Chammen ponto, sedo asto tokasei tethum.” (This translates as Hidden Entry, open for your child). As the words left his mouth they both vanished from Earth and appeared in another field in the land of Chamthar. Mewlath started briefly, having felt something strange, wrong, and vaguely familiar as he passed through the portal. He gasped looking around realizing that the air seemed brighter around him and the sun was lower. He felt the power within him grow stronger.
“That never ceases to shock me,” Stephen said softly to no one in particular.
“How many times have you done this before?”
“Twenty or thirty over the years.” Stephen turned to Mewnoma, giving him a wry smile at his shocked expression before his expression turned contemplative. He turned and walked silently towards the tree line with Mewnoma following behind. After a few minutes, before he turned his head asking, “Was this your first time through?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
Stephen chuckled, “You started suddenly when we arrived. Anway enough chatter, we must move quickly now if we wish to reach the stream before sun down.”
Stephen picked up his pace. It was an hour and a half after midday when he was preparing himself to plunge into the trees ahead.
It wasn’t long until he began to reflect on the events of the past week. He felt his face moisten with tears while he thought of all who had died in the battles they had just fought. He hoped his younger brother was doing well with leading their people since their older brother’s death. The beauty of the alfe'onio trees was only able to distract him briefly from memory of the death and destruction – caused by his sister, Hena. He was grieved that her rage and desire for vengeance had transformed her into a hath. His step stuttered momentarily when he remembered his sword going through her stomach. Her body had changed back to its old self as she bled out, and with her last moments of life she charged him.
‘Who is the man, Mganauroka, who helped lead to all of this pain and suffering?' he thought to himself. 'I wonder, would Stephen know of this man?’
It was a few hours after they had started when Mewnoma was finally able to compose himself to speak. After he had mustered himself, he quickened his pace to bring himself closer to his companion, “Have you ever heard of a man or hath named Mganauroka?”
“Yes." He spit towards the ground after he spoke. "That's a hated name for us hath hunters, never mention it again. He's one of Vasnath's generals, a Frendorein who was imbued with evil power to carry out his will. Why do you ask about him?”
“That bastard. Hena spoke of him as the man who turned her into a hath and sent her on the quest of destruction. With her dying breath she demanded that I take revenge on him. After all that happened and all that I did, I need to do this.”
“He's in Vasnath’s region, last I heard he was guarding the high pass above the valley entrance into that country.” Stephen’s thoughtful expression turned to concern as he spoke. “Be careful, he's a shadow-man. The tales of their powers are terrifying and very few end in the shadow-man’s death or defeat.”
“I will be careful, but I think I know of a way to end his life.” Mewnoma’s eyes took on a determined glint.
They walked in silence for many hours after that, until the sun was setting and they came to a gurgling stream that ran through the forest. They laid down their packs, and pulled out their canteens to fill them with water.
Without turning around, Stephen smiled slightly and spoke, “You can come out of hiding, I saw you as we approached the stream. What are two elves doing here?”
A fair elven voice from the trees answered, “We live here and help guard the portal from the Enemy when we can. What are you doing here, Stephen the Stalwart?”
“I’m hunting hath as I always do – and also guiding Mewnoma son of Tamo son of Gahaldigra.”
“Both of his ancestors’ names are known to us, though even still we would have granted him permission to pass because he was with you.” replied the elven voice.
“Who are you?” asked Mewnoma, looking curiously toward the trees behind them.
“I am Shinethnara and this is Nevathvayra my mate,” said the elf (for an elf she was) as she and her mate leapt off a nearby tree with bows in hand.
Even through the low light Mewnoma was able to see that they were like most elves: tall and slim with translucent dark skin. They wore dark brown and green tunics over light gambeson and a green cloak covering everything. Shinethnara had eyes that shone like silver with long dark brown (almost black) hair.
“What happened to the company of hath that came through these woods recently who we saw go through the portal? Was there a battle? Were the elves involved?” Nevathvayra stared at him intently with his golden eyes.
“They were destroyed – and yes, the elves were involved, and there was a battle.” said Mewnoma as the sadness crossed his face.
“We have family living there, do you know if they are still alive?” asked Nevathvayra, his face darkening.
“I will gladly tell you if I know of them, but please do not make me the potential bearer of bad news before a meal. I would be willing to bring you news once we have set-up camp. Would you be willing to join us for the night?” Mewnoma replied.
“Yes we would and we will share a meal with you as you tell us of our families’ fate.” said Nevathvayra.
Mewnoma set up a small shelter next to the tree and next to him Stephen set up his tent, while the elves started a fire. Mewnoma took out his cooking kit and some of the dried food he had with him. He boiled some water in his pot and then cooked the ingredients into the stew. They sat in silence until the stew was done and distributed.
“Loefrako lorre Kema asto solaen tokoseo tokasew newmeth.” said Shinethnara. (This translates as Praise be Kema for bringing us our food.)
“Thanks be to Kema,” replied Mewnoma.
Mewnoma took his spoon from his pack and waited for Shinethnara and Nevathvayra to take the first bite. After their first bite, they all began to eat and there was silence for a brief moment as everyone took time to sate their initial hunger.
“Are my brother, Senafakave, and his mate Àfparena alive?” asked Shinethnara, suddenly breaking the silence.
“Is my sister, Sachavaylom, alive?” asked Nevathvayra at the same time as his mate.
Mewnoma hung his head in sadness and took a deep breath before saying, “No, Senafakave died on Chamthar Maeloth, defending those he loved. He died in the arms of Àfparena, but she died later on as well. As for Sachavaylom I did not hear her name in the rolls of the dead.”
They all stopped eating as Shinethnara began weeping, Nevathvayra held her as he spoke. “This is grievous news you bring to our ears. I was hoping we would not have to go through this deep of a loss again, after the time we were ambushed on the way to Koroma Kema.”
“I am sorry to bring these tidings to you. Nevathvayra, would you like me to also bring this news to your relatives as I travel?” Mewnoma asked haltingly.
“We would appreciate that. And now, please, allow us to mourn our loss for a bit.” replied Nevathvayra before turning to his mate and weeping with her.
Mewnoma turned to Stephen and spoke softly, “I wish this was not my burden to bear. I also wish that I didn’t have to leave them alone in the morning.”
“You will not be leaving them, I will be leaving you.”
Mewnoma started in surprise, looked across the fire at the elves before whispering back, “Why can’t you journey with me much farther and will they even be willing to go with me?”
“You and I are hunting very different things. I can’t bring you on my hunt without diverting you from your goal, I was hoping to find guides to take you under their wing. I’m glad that you found potential guides so soon.”
“But you and I are both hunting hath.”
“No, you are hunting one man for revenge and for a person of prophecy. My journey will wander much and be far from any inhabited lands. If you travel with me, you’ll end up delaying both of your objectives.”
“Will you still take my company if they won’t have me?”
“I will.”
Nevathvayra looked up from comforting his wife, “You will not need to take him with you Stephen, we will take you back to our camp in the morning. As for going on a journey, we would like to know more about you and your goals son of Tamo. We will hear more of your tales tomorrow, but we must wait to hear of your goals and plans for your journey until we return to our camp and our daughter who is waiting there for our return.”
“I thank you for your trust and hospitality.” Mewnoma turned to Stephen, “Will you be here in the morning at sunrise?”
“I won’t be. My path is urgent and I have lost much time and I must try and pick up the trail of the hath I’m hunting as soon as possible. So I will leave well before sunrise.”
“Then go in Kema’s blessing, Stephen Pepper.”
“Go in God’s peace Mewnoma and sleep well.”
They went to their tents and slept.
Mewnoma awoke to the song of birds in the early morning. He got out of his tent and shook off his tarpaulin, pulled out his walking stick and rolled it up. Nevathvayra and Shinethnara had cooked a small meal to start their day.
“Is he gone then?”
“Yes, he left well before daybreak. We heard that he requires little sleep like our kind, but we did not believe that the tales were true, but we no longer doubt them.” replies Shinethnara.
“Come and eat breakfast.” They ate breakfast in silence.
When the fire was out and the ashes scattered they got up and walked along the stream away from the sun. They walked for an hour before Shinethnara turned her head to Mewnoma and asked, “Tell us your life story starting from the beginning and try to take your time. We would rather hear of the recent battles when we are closer to our home. The journey will take us the majority of the day to get there.”
So Mewnoma began to recount the story of his life and the events of Tamoka Pinaeto as best as he could. The stories brought them much joy and true to their requests he held off telling of the recent battles until they almost reached the campsite and he could smell cooking food. His story ended as they came to a small clearing with tents, a small cooking fire, a larger fire, and a young woman. She stood a bit shorter than Mewnoma with a dark tan and well-built muscles from long traveling and much fighting. She was garbed in the same dress as the elves.
“This is our daughter, Skrohokaldi. Skrohokaldi, this is Mewnoma son of Tamo.” said Shinethnara, her eyes still slightly wet.
“Good evening, my Lady. Have you no record of your birth parents?” asked Mewnoma as he bowed to her.
“None remember their ancestors in the wild.” she replied with a bow and a twinkle in her woody brown eyes that peeked out of her brown curly hair.
They both stared into each other’s eyes, blue into brown. Mewnoma saw in her eyes an expression that he remembered, but could not place. They looked away. Skrohokaldi went over to a pot with three bowls next to it and grabbed an extra one from a nearby pack. Shinethnara and Nevathvayra each grabbed theirs and served themselves some soup. They also took some waybread from their packs and sat on the opposite side of the fire.
When Nevathvayra saw Mewnoma hesitate he motioned to him. “Come and sit around the fire.” said Nevathvayra.
Mewnoma went and sat down next to Skrohokaldi on the log that had been moved to lay nearby the fire ring, which stood in the middle of the clearing. Across from them, on the other side of the campfire, sat Shinethnara and her mate, Nevathvayra, staring back at them with the outline of the sun beginning to edge in above their heads. Skrohokaldi took her extra bowl filled with soup and handed it to Mewnoma who accepted it gratefully. Then she gave him half of her chunk of bread, mimicking unbeknownst to him the daily evening practice of Shinethnara and Nevathvayra.
After they had eaten for a bit, Telensenara looked up from her food at Mewnoma and Skrohokaldi tears streaking down her face, “Daughter, my brother, Senafakave, and his mate have died in battle.”
“My dear Telensenara, I mourn your loss with you.”
“Thank you daughter, we did our open mourning last night. Now we will live in our grief in silence tonight” Telensenara said before leaning against Nevathvayra as they returned to eating in silence.
Mewnoma and Skrohokaldi joined in their silence for several minutes before Mewnoma hesitantly turned to Skrohokaldi before stuttering out, “What is the story of what brought you all here?”
“Nevathvayra and Shinethnara came to my people’s settlement after they escaped the hath raid. They were wounded and carrying the body of Nevathvayra’s brother when I found them. We took them in, cared for them, and helped them bury their dead family. I spent much of that year with them, helping them, and learning from them. They began to love me as their own child and adopted me as a member of their family. They decided to stay another four years among us to teach me and any who wished to learn their culture and language as well as the tongue of the Frendorein. They taught me the woodcraft of the elves, which far surpassed the art taught by my people – an art I excelled in. When they left my tribe, I went with them to this forest where we are now settled. They told me they came…” she paused before turning her mouth towards his ear, leaned forward, and whispered, “here to protect their remaining family as best they could by killing spies and scouts that came close to the portal.”
They had finished their food at this point. The sun had come closer to the level of their eyes, making it harder to see. “Let’s move away from the fire to give them some time alone.” Mewnoma turned away from the fire and the sun and saw the cooking shelter with a smaller fire. “Come on, let’s go.” He offered her his hand to pull her up, which she took with slight hesitation. They walked over to the shelter and sat next to that fire.
The two of them talked there for several hours, discussing what happened in their lives and how they grew up. Mewnoma learned that Skrohokaldi was a name of her own choice when she came of age at sixteen. She spoke of how her parents died before she turned one and how she was raised by her tribe, becoming the best hunter and tracker of all her people. She explained to him how she used her status to postpone being married off at the traditional young age.
He told her of the hath raid that was repelled when he was younger, but resulted in his mother’s death. He explained to her why his father left to hunt them down leaving his older brother in charge, and why his sister left in a fit of jealousy and rage to enter this world. She learned of his friendship with the elven sage named Nirianova'io and how he first met her.
By this time, the sun was now blazing across the top of the trees that ringed the western side of the clearing. As they walked back to the main fire, the sunlight bathed their faces in green and gold. They sat down next to Nevathvayra and Shinethnara, who had collected themselves. They were silent for a time before Skrohokaldi turned and looked inquisitively at Mewnoma.
“Why have you come into the Chamthar?” she asked.
“For a few reasons: I came primarily to seek vengeance for my sister’s corruption, but I also came at my father’s request to seek out the Chosen One of prophecy. If I can, I also wish to speak with Nirianova'io again.”
Nevathvayra turned solemnly to Mewnoma, “Nirianova'io has left the bounds of this world.”
“So she did die then?” asked Mewnoma, his face winced slightly.
“Not exactly. She went into Ora'ekumandor and our people felt her body crumble. Her spirit departed her body and now persists only in this land.”
“Oh. Maybe when Vasnath is dethroned and his land is overthrown, I will search for her spirit and seek final release.” said Mewnoma.
“You may not need to search so far or so long to find her,” said Nevathvayra.
“The prophecy we have heard, but the meaning is unclear to us.” said Shinethnara, her face also looked pained.
“What prophecy?” asked Skrohokaldi.
