THE HOUR
WYOUNGTHED OF MAN AND NURT

Lady Aengomiern nursed Oliukus back to health in what to Tesma was three long wakings, she would stay by the slowly recovering hill man with little rest and sometimes when she did doze off it was for a mere few moments at the end of which she would start up with a cry or gasp.

“The wakings of old, they haunt my slumber,” she generally confided in the Truole who listened quietly while sprinkling water mixed with the healing herb extract on the sick man’s forehead and wounds of battle. She never said a word but let the nurt speak.

“Have I wronged my future by choosing a different path in the living than the one my life was inscribed to follow?” The hill man stirred as she, Tesma finished asking this question.

“In every land there are folk who have survived the attack from Time and her allies,” Xeira said softly. “Their future too has been altered, they too question the way you have been doing for the last so many wakings for they need not slumber to recollect the past and who they loved but who are lost now, forever gone… Tesma Redgate, delight in the present for the trials of the gone by wakings have united you with a companion that you can grow old with bringing to life a new race of lives.” She stopped speaking lifting her eyes to where the ladder stood, there was silence within the cabin but the company of nurts gathered on deck were making a lot of noise.

Trejeth’s voice could be heard as he sang unceremoniously to the sound of a string cracker, the words were unclear but it brought a smile to Tesma’s face.

“I believe that to be my brother Wully playing at string cracker,” she giggled as she dashed from her place and up the ladder momentarily forgetting Oliukus and the state he lay in.

Xeira smiled, she sprinkled some more herb water on the man’s fevered form, saying quietly, “The new era of man shall not be born from mere human passion but of the coming together of nurt and man.”

Even as she said this, her thoughts turned to the new era of Truole life. Xeira shed a solitary tear. “There is to be a different Truole age where the sea people shall inhabit land abandoning the waves…”

Oliukus opened his eyes mumbling Tesma’s name on seeing Lady Aengomiern.

The weather on the Mount had not changed much except that it had stopped snowing during the several moments the Wise One stood talking to Lady Deulore while her sister cowered behind her. It still blew and cold wind whistled around them, chilling the two sisters while merely increasing the wrinkles on the Wise One’s face and gnarled hands.

“Speak his name Lady Deulore, do not deny him acknowledgement.” The Wise One urged.

Kwairha remained in great doubt. For, ever since she could remember she had loved Zetreh even when she had not seen him or spoken to him on the rickety stairs in the Hegleok’s rear entrance, and even then she had known Swulirha to have loved him dearly but her own heart had controlled her words and, here it was doing the same thing again.

A particularly strong gust of wind made the sisters stumble back a little, losing their footing so that the Wise One stretched her hands taking firm hold on their arms. It was then that she heard the silent thought from Zetreh and knew the time had come.

“Such firm grip, have you! Your frail form deceives the eye!” Kwairha exclaimed in wonder even as Swulirha wriggled to get free.

“My hold is steady as is the feeling within your heart which your mind attempts to cheat just as you claim my form fools your eye,” the Wise One said, smiling knowingly. “It would prove unwise to allow my frail appearing body and your restless mind to play their deceivers’ role when the truth is altogether more rewarding.”

The wind continued to blow carrying with it a rather slight scent of spring but an even bigger amount of chill. The Wise One had brought the two sisters where they had all been standing before the sudden blast of wind had made the two lose their footing. During the climb up again, Kwairha thought hard about the words that had just been said and as much as she wished they were wrong, Lady Deulore knew the words held truth.

Swulirha kept weeping and pleading of the other that she say what, they knew had to be said.

Inckle had journeyed quite a distance when his eye caught a glimmer just ahead, in mid air. He rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, again seeing the stunned and frightened face of Kabah. Shaking his head to clear it, Inckle moved forward, his sights turned toward the ground where tiny green were rising from the freshly turned soil thinking, how these reminded him of Lady Kwairha, for whom he felt his being ache, it was as though with every step he took, his future was embedded in the presence of Lady Deulore of the Mount.

A part of him delighted at the thought of being beside the fair Lady, of being the Lord of the Mount, her companion and friend, Kwairha’s beloved!

A few more glimmers caught his eye. Inckle put out his hand to wave them away. The sun felt hot and he felt rather tired suddenly.

Stopping for a brief moment to see how far he had come, he glanced around and saw no one and nothing but ground and air, of course the earth was a somewhat carpet of green and the air, very unlike the kind around every place else, even in Wyoungthed.

Could I be nearing Angoruis? The nurt asked himself, there was no one who would tell him if he indeed was nearing the place where so many feared while so many others believed it did not exist simply because they could not see it, the place where he must venture into and carry out his task to assure the future of every being.

He breathed in deep and then sneezed, he had inhaled a lung full of finer dust apparently.

“I do this for the future of all life,” he said quietly, scanning the surroundings. “May I have the strength of the Wise One on my side as I venture forth where dwells the spirit of her wise mind.”

Myeopike revived from the sudden attack. He slowly turned on the ground but saw just darkness.

The Spekai could hear sounds of struggle from somewhere in the dark, for a moment he did not realize who was struggling, and then, it came back to him – the unknown presence had hit him to get to Reign!

Crawling on his belly, he reached the far wall unnoticed, unheard grateful for the fact that he knew his way around the grand hall and its inner chambers even without a light. Standing up very shakily, he felt along the wall and found the torch in its bracket. Just as he was about to lift the unlit torch from its place on the wall, a loud crack sounded along the entrance way which he knew was blocked, but now a broad band of torch light spilled inside and Myeopike saw what actually was happening.

“Reign! Do not let him take your life, and the lives of the unborn!”

Deuglias still held her neck in both his hands tightening his grip every moment as he spoke quietly, repeating the words over and over, “Take her life, evil come alive…I command you to consume the ones within her, I am the son of my father…”

So engrossed he was in his task that he failed to heed the crack and see the light, he did not even see the rock being hurled at him until it was too late.

The Folieke were grouped together a little lower in the air when Stragut flew over them. Just about this time Foliek Erwufj sensed a very slight chill in the air current, it was sending a hint of chill.

“A change is coming, and I do not mean the future fate of all beings.” He threw a significant glance at the others. “Time is about to strike again. Her final blow.”

They ruffled their feathers discussing the issue uncomfortably, not being accustomed to staying passive at a time of such crises, the large half bird, half snail creatures flapped around their circle reminding themselves what Foliek Weulfoul had been told by the Truole Lady which he then had related to the lot.

“We cannot divide and let one or more from among us go afar from here,” Foliek Harfj stated quietly. “No matter how much the Truole or the Wise One might need us.”

The rest nodded. “We can be there for them who need us by staying together.”

It grew a little chillier even as this was said and Foliek Erwufj looked around uncomfortably. “It has been long whiles since Deituk has us summoned…I fear he calls on me now.” There was nothing to say, the others could only stare back at their fellow Foliek, perturbed.

“If I do not return, fare well my friends…I did not wish it to turn out like this…” Foliek Erwufj left the flock without another word.

A silent moment elapsed as they watched him go, disappearing fast in the direction of Wyoungthed. And then one of the six remaining Folieke exclaimed, “Our strength is great together…follow that traitor Erwufj!”

“Is our intention to destroy Foliek Erwufj?” The young Foliek Harfj inquired as they crossed the vast expanse of sky. “Watch and learn.” Was the only answer he received. They flew in silence.

Deituk paced forth and back while pondering his plan. Time entrusted him with a huge task, which was very soon to begin.

Dreser and Chyle were speaking to each other and now, the son approached his father.

“My son has not returned and yet the mist is clearing rather rapidly, father, what is your say in this matter?”

Deituk turned to face his son, he was frowning. “Worry about your woman, it is unwise to ignore such attitude son. Deuglias shall come along soon,” he grinned, a glint in his eye. “The boy is now a man my son, his deed is completed hence you see the mist clearing, and very slowly for I feel sure he is relishing his coming to manhood.”

Clapping Dreser on the shoulder he laughed. “Return to your beloved now, sooth her troubled mind for if she is with child, worry will not do it good. Go.” His son smiled, nodded. “Chyle is with my child father,” he turned to go. “I feel certain of it.”

Zetreh passed from land and forest with the quick ability of a Truole. He wasted no time on rest or meal but ate of new herb that caught his wandering eye as he moved along.

At one point he past the edge of the once formidable Creek woodlands where Nauoljath the mighty beast had spent his days terrifying the creature world, not to mention those poor travellers passing through who for some reason had lingered there too long. Now there was no Nauoljath, and his troupe of beastly folk were long dead, so were the woods and no one remained from nearby to walk through it at leisure.

He slowed a little as he passed through the stretch of land where the earth lay in some patches with puddles of melting snow forming little lakes around which tiny greens had sprung forth, while in other places the soil had turned taking on its underside the carcasses of the rot of animal and tree forms leaving on its upside a gently growing green land. As Zetreh cast his eye about this, he knew Wise Dsarest was gone; he lived no more.

‘While the soil has turned bearing new life, while Time still plots her final strike… Sprinkle dust of future fate upon the lands, into the still flowing rivers and rippling lakes. That Time and all evil may, meet their equal in the fair and good so that when the last battle is fought, the new race of man, green and other being might arise from passion like once Wyoungthed did, from you, Wise One and me.’ His thoughts danced around this say while his eyes saw as he trudged past, the once frozen lake whose surface now rippled, glistening in the bright sunlight and close by it the old cabins where the Lady of the Mount and her sister dwelled with her ladies in waiting for neighbours.

“Live well, Lady Deulore,” said Zetreh in whispered words. “My affection for your sister was a lie that needed to be told just as your true title she claimed as her own. Without thinking either was true, you would not now love the child born of my beloved’s womb.” And he quickened his steps toward where he was headed.

Brestuev fled the hallway; he had no desire to witness the shameful deeds that he knew were about to be carried out. He rushed to the Council room and made straight for the desk. Finding the ledger with all of the family’s history and the one where his father had written records of every birth and important event and day in the life of each member of the family. He turned pages and read and turned and read some more until he found what he was looking for.

On the day Dreke was born his father had scrawled down the child’s name and the parents Lady and Lord Hegleok had signed in the ledger below their son’s name just as they had done with rest of his siblings. By the laws of their council, by the laws of nature what Cineon and Dreke were doing was morally wrong. Brestuev trembled with fury, as he recalled the first day his mother took over as head of Hegleok council, the day Edsoniea disappeared choosing to be an outcast it seemed then but now he knew the truth, he felt certain of it as if he had seen it with his own eyes.

“You have done wrong to this family, Dreke,” he said through clenched teeth. “You are unworthy of the Hegleok name but it alone will stop you from further hurting this family.”

He left the council chamber in a hurry quietly hoping in earnest that he would see his father’s eldest child again. Edsoniea belonged where she was forced to be not. “Forced by the shame of what you did to her, Dreke.”

Inckle Vilksumer took a step forward and his vision clouded with innumerable glimmers, his entire body appeared to vanish from the human world into the land of Angoruis. The nurt’s feet stumbled on uneven ground, which upon looking down, he realized was transparent and grainy – air!

Blinking the glimmers away he moved forward surprised. He felt the familiarity of The Tree in Greo of the human world in this place, everywhere he looked he saw decaying trees and empty stretches of transparent earth. He felt like a ghost, his mind the only flicker of life.

After much stumbling, Inckle’s eyes caught sight of Ailieth with its doorway unguarded, the pathway turning ever more uneven. A feeling of sudden desperation filled his heart.

“I have come,” he spoke to no one in sight. “To do the bidding of my creator.” He neared the chamber of recreation, the only one chamber within this world, indeed the only one within this Tree.

“It is my humble request that should I not live to see the world outside this one,” never once did he halt but walked on weak kneed getting closer and closer to the door until finally, he pushed it open looking within for a moment. “Let her know, let the one who captured my heart, hear these words... ‘Lady Deulore, I shall indeed have been honoured to be your chosen companion and beside you, the Lord of the Mount.’”

Aliyha Hegleok regained consciousness finding her arm too painful to move but move it she did as she gingerly lifted it to wipe her eyes, blinking wide in the dark she sat up feeling a lightness of being.

“My past has perished,” she spoke to what she thought was just empty blackness, “And along with her so has my reckless and adulterous behavior…may the mistakes I have made, not ever find their ways into my children’s’ lives to be repeated.” A sigh filled the silence that followed these words as she shifted her weight attempting to stand.

“Not all of your past has seen the last of existence in your life,” came a quiet whispered voice from the dark making Lady Hegleok sit still a moment or two. She dared not even let herself think about what the words truly meant. Her mind cleared in an instant, she realized – the letters!

“The mistakes are repeating themselves…your children have ventured into sinful ways.” continued the voice.

Aliyha screamed hoarsely, “Cast the vile remains of my past into the roaring of a fire, the hearth within the walls of the chamber that used to be the wretched Aliyha’s in the long ago past must be alight to carry the task through, for they shall turn to ash only there the way my mistakes turned my being to poison all those long years ago. And those of my children who have gone body and mind along the sinful path, BANISH THEM!”

She then rested her head against the wall. “Who is it that speaks to me of such a matter?” she whispered loudly to the dark. “One of the three sons that within you into this world you bore, I am the one who desires to right the wrongs.”

Brestuev hurried away toward the council room. As much as he wanted to stay where he was, beside the heavy door with his ear and mouth pressed alternatively to the keyhole and hear his mother’s voice, there were matters that needed his immediate attention. Mother would soon be a prisoner no more.

Back in the council room, he locked the doors and with trepidation sat in his usual seat thinking hard of what he knew he decided had to be done. The weather had taken on a bright turn, there was even a pleasant breeze blowing in through the open window.

“Such fair weather deserves to be enjoyed,” mumbled Brestuev staring at the open view the window offered of the blue sky and earth coming alive with spring. “Not blemished by ugliness.” With that he resolved to put his mother’s words into actions. “The Hegleok family council will once again be the Council of the Fair.”

With every spoken word and each step taken, Inckle felt his strength failing him, he imagined in his mind, which was the only burning and bright source of life and color among the pale ghostly surroundings for winter had once again taken possession of Flemezour, he pictured himself aging. He had now reached the flickering flame – the Wise One’s mind’s spirit burning within its tiny realm like shallow niche.

'Tell her yourself Inckle Vilksumer,' the flame spurted and flared. ‘Your life does not end here and now, there are long wakings to come and a new Wyoungthed to create.’

It burned merrily radiating warmth, strengthening the nurt’s wavering strength. ‘It is time to leave Flemezour forever,’ Inckle cupped his hands around the flame, it felt warm, ‘and allow this land of the wise minds’ spirits’ to fall to ruin. There will be no more rest for my kind once I rejoin my physical self, the lands beyond Angoruis shall require constant caring and vigilance.’

Inckle nodded, he understood well what the thought communicated but how was supposed to unite the Wise One’s mind’s spirit to her physical form? The tiny flame flared, it felt warm to the ghostly pale palms that cupped around it. It put a glow on the face of the nurt and in his eye, a gleam. Flemezour grew colder with every passing moment.

‘Look deep into the heart of the fire tongue, Earth Protector,’ came a sudden voiceless command drawing Inckle out of his mind wandering. ’Look within me for the answer you seek.

The Earth Protector complied, he looked deep into the heart of the flame, his mind alive with certainty and the middle of his palms searing in pain. He knew how the task would be completed.

The bent form sensed the presence of the unspoken words. She stood facing the sisters, her back to the entrance way, her head inclined to one side. ‘Your words have a meaning that my heart understands…the future of all life shall soon be ingrained upon the just turned earth, so when the sands turn one last while, the offspring of fair and good, of Time and evil will know the final war to be a constant race…Our creations shall not ever dwindle, again we will unite to wander freely the lands of a borderless Wyoungthed.’

A sigh escaped from Wise Rieah; in contentment she softly hummed a rhyme, barely audible over the wind.

“Stragut, friend

The moment is now,

Sprinkle the dust

Of future fate,

Upon river, lake

And spring turned earth.

Among pebbles and roots

There, forever,

The future of every race

Must remain…”

While the Wise One was at this, Kwairha heard the wind, and upon it a message for her. Of course her mind disagreed with every word that the wind brought to her but in her heart, she rejoiced for now, she felt certain to whom her entire future belonged.

Swulirha heard the message to but to her it was a bittersweet feeling to know for sure what she had always, in the very back of her mind known to be true.

The Wise One looked up, straight into Lady Deulore’s eyes. “Your answer must be given now, for even though the wind lessens and the season is soon to change,” she touched the other’s face gently, “ That change will last but for a little while… Time prepares one more strike and it shall either way be her last and worst.”

Swulirha had sagged to the snowy ground, weeping quietly and not realizing the wind had dropped or that the rocky earth was beginning to show its unmasked face in hues of browns and greens.

The change in wind caught Kwairha’s attention, she looked about her and saw the greens and browns of the mountain appear, she remembered without remembering the gamhnurt and his tales of the land he came from. “Inckle Vilksumer Earth Protector,” she mumbled with a smile for she had felt him present in her mind and heart, so very firmly gripping the two.

Stragut hovered high above the lands, holding his wings steady was hard for the wind was pleasant and the white bird longed to fly about like he was used to. Several times the Wise One had spoken to him on the wind telling him to be patient and he had been but every time the wind brought such a say, his spirits sank; he obeyed though he imagined that his plight would not ever change even though the season might. And then it happened!

Stragut had glided around, it felt a very long waking to him though he did not feel fatigued – his appearance should anyone have caught sight of him would have been of a white eagle like until the Wise One’s whispered rhyme reached him and the bird flapped his wings ruffling his feathers flying over the lands and river lakes showering these with a fine dust and bits of stone.

“The future of every being, man, creature and green now has a fair fate!” exclaimed Stragut as he enthusiastically carried out his task.

The door to Aliyha Slyionthe’s bedchamber stood ajar just as it had been when the eldest of the Hegleok brothers had fled the hallway. Now he quietly crept along the very hallway he had earlier that day. In his hand he carried a torch to light his way, the sun had gone down and the old house was slowly being engulfed by gloom. He would also require the flame maybe, to carry out the task at hand. As he neared the chamber, Brestuev felt his skin crawl in a sickening disgust or was it getting cold again? Disgust he decided!

Inside the chamber, the fire had nearly gone out while a huge pile of age old scrawls proclaiming never dying affections and pledges of sinful nature stood its spot on the floor. The chest of drawers stood empty, the single lamp lay smashed beside the table while on the bed that had not long before been the Dresers’ in their most passionate moments, there now lay tangled in evil webs of pleasure, content and asleep...

Brestuev shut his eyes. Barely breathing, he tiptoed in and all that has just been mentioned above met him full in the face. Inching toward the heap of old parchments, he grabbed armfuls of what remained of his mother’s past and tossed it into the fire. He had refueled the fireplace with logs, very quietly. Now, he tossed the piles unto the logs and he set the torch.

A moment later, the entire room was bathed in firelight.

One of the two figures stirred with the sound of the roaring flame, it turned over eyes half open.

It was Dreke and he shook the other figure that lay inside his embrace, awake saying, “The hearth comes alive with a flame that equals none but the acts of our lust!”

Cineon raised her head, for a moment blinked and then let out a shriek.

“You! What have you done, son of our father?” Dreke had started, sat up glaring this way and that.

“It certainly is me, your brother,” Brestuev spoke in reply, his expression at once one of triumph and revolt. “I have made you a fire, here, my brother and sister, children of our father,” he stepped forward raising the torch a little.

“I am no son of Gregieo Hegleok so do not address me as if I am.” Dreke said fiercely, his fists clenched.

Cineon got out from under the covers, “What is it you want anyway, Brestuev? Have you found either traitor?” Her unfastened garment gave her body a gaunt appearance.

“I have found two traitors, two who have betrayed the moral and sacred laws that make a family. Tell me though Cineon, Dreke,” a satisfied smile spread across Brestuev's lips. “How can you, Dreke claim not to be our father’s son and commit such unspeakable doings not once but twice, when the family ledger says otherwise?”

Edsoniea breathed a lungful of dusty air, coughed and coughed. The sudden glare from the hallway blinded her, she noticed Myeopike rush in the direction of the light with the torch, she heard a yell from the Spekai and hoped it was in delight, not despair over more trouble. After a moment of getting air back into her lungs, she looked about her noticing rather blurrily that she was on the now broken cot and at her feet was the pale figure of a young male, his forehead had been severed by a gash and from it oozed blood.

Edsoniea slowly moved her feet away from the unconscious boy, the pain of childbirth took a hold of her again and she fought back a cry. By now, her hearing and vision had completely returned to normal and she caught the sound of two voices, saw two shadows in the entrance way breaking up the band of light into two narrower ones.

Myeopike was highly excited and kept repeating how the stranger had reached the grand hall right on time. Wait. Edsoniea shook her head gritting her teeth as the pain took over her once more, was it possible or was her mind playing tricks – Ermal?

“Young Hegleok,” the Spekai gaped, he lit his torch with the flame from the other’s torch, “The timing could not have been better.” He embraced Ermal who appeared disgruntled at something he kept looking at over his shoulder.

“Spekai, I tumbled in through the hidden opening to your abode landing right atop of something or someone alive,” he gestured wildly. “And then the impact of my land caused a few boulder sized pieces of the cave wall and ceiling to fall in…tell me Spekai, tell me that was not by an unlucky chance my sister!”

He shook Myeopike hard by the shoulders while he himself trembled violently from shock and fear. Myeopike held him firmly saying. “Calm yourself young Hegleok, your sister is safe though how well is quite another matter. Step in here.”

Ermal broke free from the other’s grip. “Who was it that got hurt out there if my sister is safe?” he asked pointing toward the semi darkened chamber behind Myeopike, voice heavy with barely suppressed panic.

“Myeopike dear, I fear it is time,” came a painful call from within the chamber.

Ermal stared wide-eyed over the Spekai’s shoulder. “Edsoniea!” pushing past a smiling Spekai, Ermal rushed in.

Myeopike followed close behind with the burning torch lighting the place, quietly muttering, “The ants, they are the ones that got crushed out there…mindless brave warriors!”

By now they both had reached the low cot, Ermal hauled Deuglias’s limp body to one side.

Feeling for a heartbeat, Myeopike found none, the boy was dead. “You did well Ermal Hegleok,” complimented the Spekai, “I imagine his skull cracked, resembling a spider’s web!”

Ermal however was not listening, his attention on Edsoniea who held his gaze with eyes filled to the brim in tears. All thought of childbirth momentarily forgotten but then a fresh stab of pain made her yell and that was that – the passing of the moment.

The twins, Elagust and Olaliefe were at their game. Elagust in the lead and enjoying it when the tips of her toes fell on a patch of wet green, it felt cold, as if winter had found its way through the earth that made up The Hidden. Elagust stopped, calling Olaliefe to a halt before he could claim he was in the lead.

“Tired, sister Elagust?” teased Olaliefe coming to stand beside her. “Or have you realized that I am far better than you? That you could not possibly stand a chance to win?” He snickered while she simply smiled, “I will let you believe it if it pleases you so.” A pat on his shoulder, she sensed the faintest change in the air, and then.

“The Hidden

Has been found,

Feel the air

Notice the ground.

Let us, if you agree

Call upon,

Ourselves, Spring and Summer

To awaken,

In the heart of winter…

Toward every land

Let us spread,

The green

Spring and summer,

This battle, we will win!”

Olaliefe nodded gravely. He felt the chill and saw the wet green, The Hidden would not be conquered.

A few exceptionally competent warriors of the last battalion put together by Wise Yiolj and Wise Okir to serving under Time advanced into The Hidden in secret or so they thought until the forces of spring and summer overwhelmed the cold they brought along turning it to the likes of themselves. After much of a struggle, those still able, abandoned the fight; their reasoning was that they could assist in taking control of lands beyond The Hidden, eventually leading the entire army on a sudden and final attack, destroying The Hidden.

Lady Aengomiern aided the insistent hill man to his feet leading him toward the short ladder that led up onto the deck. During the few moments of his waking and wobbling toward the ladder, the illness that had plagued his being rapidly vanished leaving few traces that it had ever been present. Xeira admired the determination in this man.

With each step he began to lean less on her, and it did not tire Oliukus but appeared to strengthen him. Quietly, Xeira praised the hill man’s will power and once they had neared the few stairs, she bid him to stay on the last stair while she readied to race up to Tesma and the others.

“Let me run that race kind healer,” Oliukus said, “It is the beginning of a new life, another more pleasant run, and I wish Tesma to know I am all set to start on life’s path with her. Finally.”

Xeira obliged, she followed him up the ladder onto deck feeling heavy hearted again.

Tesma stood cheering Trejeth’s singing and Wully’s brilliance at playing the string cracker, which he had taken from Inckle all those wakings ago in order to practice what Inckle had taught him.

The Earth Protectors played and sang about Wyoungthed. The rest of the nurts joined in the now familiar chorus. The final line tugged at the heartstrings of all those present so that there was a lot of quiet sobbing, and when Wully plucked the string snapping it in gentle twang, there was much clapping with everyone agreeing and complimenting the duo on their heartrending performance.

Tesma hugged the two warmly. “It was beautiful, and when Oliukus awakens,” said she beaming, “I wish you to play and sing once more so he may know the gamhnurt history and the land where we have come from, from this song.”

They agreed returning her embraces, but before either could say anything, Trejeth caught sight of the hill man standing on the uppermost stair, his face alight, more lively than he had ever felt in a very, very long time.

“It is to the sound of this fair song that I awakened,” his voice sounded pleasant, friendly.

Tesma turned around, a wide smile and tears flowing down the sides of her face.

“You are well, Oliukus,” she dashed forward toward him. “Oh, how I delight in seeing you on your feet!”

Oliukus embraced his dear one. “Your folk are a marvel to the likes of me, it is no wonder I have recovered. To hear about Wyoungthed and your past is better than any medicinal herb there ever was.”

The gamhnurts cheered and gathered around the two to show their appreciation for the kind words.

Tesma however patted her beloved’s shoulder saying, “I am glad you have such regard for my kind, nothing pleases us gamhnurts more than to be thought well of by a being strange to our past and ways but it is Lady Aengomiern that deserves your thanks.”

Everyone nodded assent.

Oliukus acknowledged it to be true. “Tesma is right, I do owe you my deep gratitude Lady Aengomiern for not only have you healed me but you brought Tesma and me together more than once.” Oliukus addressed Xeira, turning to face her with Tesma still in his embrace.

The Truole Lady bowed. “You need not thank me, Brave Oliukus,” she came close to the gathered company, raised her head and went on. “The Wise One is my very dear friend and I have merely carried out her request. Thank her for the fates of each of your futures, I talk not only to Tesma and Oliukus,” she looked at each nurt. “I speak to you all present, and to those who do not stand here but who have survived the cruelties of Time.”

She walked toward the railing, the company parting to let her through.

“Wise Rieah has gifted the races of man and nurt, a turn of the earth from the wintry desolate to a blooming future fate…And to the Truole folk, an end to their race.”

An eerie silence fell about the ship as Xeira finished her say, overhead the sky began to slowly darken while the spring scented wind carried with it the unmistakable chill of Time’s cold and evil embrace. The raft that Inckle had used to reach the shore some wakings before, bobbed on the sparkling waters of the Kourass, a figure sat upright upon it. The nurt having left it on the water’s edge, the Kourass was returning the raft to the Truole ship. Xeira turned, her face somber, her eyes reflecting resolve and acceptance.

“It is time to leave, to part,” she spoke to the company before her. “Before the next strike from the merciless fist of Time and her allies, for it is not long from now when Wise Rieah’s powers and the determination of her folk, those who still are part of the new born world, shall once again be tested. This is to be one final blow from Time’s fist aimed to destroy all living. Do not forget, the races of nurt and man shall always be struck unexpectedly and viciously in the far of wakings to come. The lands and rivers will have changed their appearance and their course, and the race grown just as the green and beasts will have witnessed many seasons’ change, and you the gamhnurts of once a timeless and ageless Wyoungthed, you will a slow see yourselves age and change too. Time will pick her victim once in a way and one at a time. Remember, always, who you are and from where you have come forth. That will be your strength against harm.”

The sky grew darker and the wind harsher and colder. The Kourass became tumultuous. The nurts and Oliukus began to understand the connection between what Xeira was trying to tell them and what was happening. The ship began to rock gently with the force of the wind; it was an elegantly sturdy vessel. The raft bobbed closer every moment, it became very clear who the figure was, only now, he lay belly down on the raft, whispering to the Kourass to carry him quicker – he had just one more task to complete as a Truole.

The searing pain as Inckle cupped his palms around the flame intensified with each breath he took and even though his mind felt alive with many thoughts, Inckle’s sight dimmed. The pale surroundings, The Tree, Ailieth, indeed the whole of Flemezour began to slide and tumble in and out of focus as the nurt retraced his steps. It became very cold; the airy ground beneath was slowly cracking, leaving huge gaps. The flame burned his palms spreading warmth throughout his entire being making him glow like a red orange firefly whose feet warmed the air about and below him. He reached the out of focus doorway leading in and out of Ailieth. The flame flared, Inckle could hold it no longer, and he parted his cupped hands in the same instant parting from all his senses.

The Folieke all reached the place where Deituk, Dreser and Chyle were. Foliek Erwufj having reached ahead now was in council with Deituk.

“Fly me over every land Foliek,” Deituk ordered, “It is the final battle and Lady Time depends on her allies to bring a victory to her name. I expect to accomplish it, bring her victory from my doings.”

Foliek Erwufj merely bowed. “I am here to serve you oh great one!”

Deituk grinned and jumped onto the large toad back. “Take flight then and stop only when you feel my hand pat your neck. Fly over them lands and rivers, all that still lives, need do so no more.”

Thus Deituk took off too excited to notice anything else besides his winged beast soar. The others spread out all over Wyoungthed keeping alert as to the whereabouts of Dreser and his beloved.

Two Folieke headed for the grand hall, they sensed they were needed. Neither spoke, it was all wing signs and stealth moving. Deituk and his son could not ever know that the Folieke were there until the moment was right. The giant birds had long before now known what each of their tasks were to be at the beginning of the final battle. All but young Foliek Harfj. He of course had it in his head that they were there to eliminate Foliek Erwufj who had proved traitor to the Wise One and all fairness.

“He has taken flight Foliek Weulfoul,” he whispered urgently pointing his wingtip at the soaring Foliek, “I shall follow him and –”

The other immediately silenced him with a rapid wing flap. “You will do nothing of the sort but watch and learn, and when the moment is right,” Foliek Weulfoul looked straight at him, “You shall be given the chance to prove your loyalty. Wander around that way, if you are asked to carry out a task, any kind of task, do not hesitate.”

By this time most of Wyoungthed was withering again. The sunshine that had a few wakings ago bathed the land had now disappeared behind a quickly darkened sky, indeed it was the same in other lands as well. Even the last patch of green that had previously refused to wither, the floherb that grew magnificently around a nurt dwelling that stood its foundation for so long now, showed signs of slow crumble and decay. The earth about it like everywhere else turned cold and cracked, the green dying.

Foliek Harfj strode about this way, he felt sad at what he and his brethren were doing. To him their loyalty lay with Time and her allies, especially Deituk and his family and whatever task was carried out for them by the Folieke, would show plainly on whose side they were. He fought back angry tears, he was on the side of the Wise One, the Lady Truole and all fairness. He belonged nowhere here and yet, he could not break a pledge, he had to obey the others’ say.

Dreke grabbed Brestuev violently pushing him against the wall where the burning torch nearly fell from the other’s hand.

“You have destroyed my identity, how dare you do such a deed!”

Brestuev threw him off. “Do not speak to me as if you were proud of who you really are!” he spat the words, brandishing the lit torch at his brother. “I have done nothing but gift you an identity you can be proud of!”

Dreke laughed mirthlessly, he reached for Cineon and grabbing her, pulled her to him. “This is who I am, who I was, who I shall always be! A heap of burning parchments cannot alter that.”

Cineon stepped away from Dreke and toward her elder brother.

“I am head of this council, I am Lady Dreser and I gift you an exile. Leave now!”

Brestuev threw the torch itself into the fire. The hearth burned like a furnace. Dreke ducked barely avoiding the flame. “I never did think it would come to this,” he sighed, “It is the two of you that have been banished from the Hegleok family and council for the rest of your days.”

Cineon advanced on him like a cat on a mouse. “You do not dictate my rules, I order you to leave!”

Dreke hauled him toward the door. “Be gone traitor, join the rest of them!”

Now, Aliyha Hegleok had gingerly got to her feet and walked blindly toward the door, she ran her hands along the wall until after what felt like hours, she touched the iron door pulling it with all her might at the edge. It swung open noisily causing her to give a little yell in shock. She then took a cautious step forward, finding no one about the corridor, she became emboldened, fumbling with her hair, then her clothing, she composed herself and strode toward the heart of the house.

Before long she was standing before her three children, in the entrance way of her younger self’s chamber. She appeared every bit the Lady Hegleok – formidable and lady of her own decisions.

“You are quite correct my daughter, he does not dictate your rules to you.” Aliyha spoke calmly.

Cineon staggered back, horror etched on every inch of her being.

Dreke fumbled with his garments. “Mother! How very not delightful to see you…Brestuev here betrayed this family…accusing his own brother and sister of immoral behavior, and I see now that he has overruled my decision as to where you belong!”

Aliyha studied the three faces in silence, then, “Brestuev dictates this council’s rules, my rules, to you, obey them!” Behind the three, flames roared, a smile appeared on her face.

Dreke began to say, “You are no more my mother and Cineon is no longer a Hegleok…truthfully, neither am I which means, you have no control over what we do!” He stood defiant.

Cineon nodded. “Speak now! Suddenly you do not feel so much in power, do you?” she smiled wickedly for Aliyha appeared to be lost in thought for a moment or two and that, was mistaken as a sign of uncertainty and surrender. Brestuev too had a moment of doubt as to what his mother was feeling but then, Lady Hegleok’s smile widened, her smile brought assurance to Brestuev’s breast, his mother was in her realm of power again. Dreke and Cineon did not notice the smile; they were wrapped up in their own triumph.

“You are in the right,” she said plainly. “You Dreke, your father never was Gregieo Hegleok, and I, was a different person when you came to be. I was Aliyha Slyionthe; she is no more. And now that the past has been cast into a roaring blaze, you have disowned your own identity, the only one you have ever known.”

Dreke looked his mother straight in the eye, “My mother lives, do not dare tell me otherwise!”

Aliyha said nothing; she simply turned her gaze at Cineon. “Lady Dreser, you now are,” she stretched out her hand as if to caress the other’s face, which she did, and Cineon recoiled. “A Hegleok by law no longer.” Grabbing the garment Cineon had on she pulled her out the door so suddenly that the gaunt figure went flying as if she were a feather, Brestuev took his mother’s queue and caught Dreke by the neck sending him sprawling out behind the other.

“Be gone, unwelcome strangers! Let me not ever again find you or your children present here. My shameful past is just that, the past as are her children and their offspring for the remainder of the Hegleok Council days!”

Brestuev silently applauded his mother while seeing that the other two were out of the main door and onto the cold street. “Goodbye seems hardly a harsh word to say so, I will wish you both to have a miserable life!” Brestuev slammed the door and walked back to the council chamber.

Zetreh reached the Truole ship. The Kourass, like the weather had now turned stormy, huge waves crashed onto the vessel’s side. The nurt company had descended below for shelter from cold wind and sea spray. Nobody spoke but silently contemplated the words the Truole had said to them.

Fiel and Tesma sat alongside Wully, Oliukus and Untholio. And alongside Kirestle, sat Trejeth, Korehk and Duilo all on both sides quietly watching Xeira as she stood alone on deck, frail looking, the wind rippling through her hair and her wavespun garment.

The gamhnurts and the hill man all felt a profound sadness. Nothing they could think of doing could alter the fate of the Truole whom they had grown to respect and love as if she had been among them for the longest of wakings.

“The best deed the lot of us can do is remember her say,” Tesma said, “Lady Aengomiern is the Wise One’s ally, one of many and she means well.”

Untholio nodded. “Her's is a kind heart,” there were murmurs of assent. “It would be dreadfully unkind of us to even try going against her words, Wise Rieah’s wishes.” Silence reigned once more.

“Xeira Aengomiern, bound to me by an age old promise,” Zetreh stood before Xeira, his own wavespun garment visible for the first time in a long time, it too was of a silvery color but darker, the appearance of the Kourass as it were now. The Eangomierns’ wavespun garments differed from the Aengomierns’ only in color.

“I have returned to claim my guilt, if you will let me.” Zetreh spoke on a bent knee.

Xeira smiled, tears running down the sides of her face. “A promise that was made by two Truole hearts, one of which is not a Truole kind now,” she reached closer and touched his face. “How I delight in seeing you Zetreh Eangomiern!”

Zetreh cast his gaze down, unable to meet hers. The wind’s howling lessened, but it was just for a brief moment. She embraced him. “I do not see a guilty Eangomiern before me, I see my oldest and truest friend who could not ever do me wrong.”

Xeira reached inside her garment’s rippled folds pulling from within it the single treasure she had kept close to her, the Eangomiern jeweled goblet.

“This is yours, take it for, even though you shall be a Truole no more, in name and in living, it is the last treasure of the Truole race that ever you will have. May it sweeten every sip of life’s springs and rainstorms you drink from, with it!”

Zetreh took the cup from her hands. “This is not the only treasure I will have with me.” Thunderclouds began to clap and rain started to pour down in heavy sheets, “I shall take your kind words along my journey’s path, in my being they have found their place.”

Xeira nodded, “Farewell Eangomiern Zetreh, and take with you not just that cup and the memory of my say but take along the children of Wise Rieah too for their end is not near, not here.” She turned and walked toward the clustered group by the head of the ladder.

“Goodbye children of Wise Rieah. And Brave Oliukus,” she bade each a farewell, “On land is where you need to be, not on a sinking ship. On land creating a new generation of life.”

Inckle fell on the cold ground, its surface transparent through which he could see the slowly changing earthen field in the land beyond even though his vision was somewhat distorted by the tears flowing from his eyes. The whole of his being hurt, he felt incredibly weak. The tiny flame fell onto the transparent ground beside him spreading into a fire quickly.

Within moments the entire ground around Inckle was ablaze. Flames licked from the ground up, the nurt felt his mind react but his physical body lay immovable. Something cracked. Inckle knew the interior of Ailieth had crumbled. The fire was spreading. Flemezour was going up in flames, and so it did while out and beyond, winter had claimed the earthen ground and the sky above. The Earth Protector watched helplessly as Time took control again.

‘Am I to lay here unable to do more than what I have already done while Time attempts her hand at taking over the world, the few lives that still breathe?’ Inckle’s unspoken question went unanswered for a long moment. ‘Wise Rieah, I desire to do more than just lay here…it is my wish to join in the final battle against Time.’

The flames rose higher, the land of the wise minds’ spirits that had been under the hold of winter – ice and snow, now, melted and burned.

‘By merely wishing to do more, you have added a greater value and valor to all you have done already,’ came the reply. ‘Hold pride in your doings Inckle Vilksumer Earth Protector. It is because of you that the race of nurt and man, green and beast have another chance to live.’

It is to the sound of these words that the nurt let exhaustion take over completely, body and mind.

Chyle wandered with Dreser beside her and with every few paces they took, Time worked her powers on the unborn child within Chyle so that it grew inside her womb in step with their walk. It would have been a great many wakings if anyone was keeping count and if this had happened in Wyoungthed of old or had Chyle rested for a while. It was neither.

Chyle’s features changed, she looked tired and drawn, but that did not stop or hinder her walking.

“You appear tired, Chyle,” Dreser said at one point, a trace of concern in his voice. “It might be better to rest a bit. Our child grows within you rather like Deuglias grew within his mother’s womb, Time must really want my child to join the world just like she did Deuglias!”

All along the two had eaten nothing but a few dried and dying green. Chyle suddenly stopped. In the distance she saw a Foliek wandering. Chyle knew of the Folieke as Deituk and Dreser had told her all about them. She placed a hand on her belly and whispered, “Be born now, you are wretched and unwanted by your own mother!” And then it happened, she stumbled gasping for Dreser to aid her. “Here comes, your child!”

Foliek Harfj heard the woman cry, and saw the child being born. Dreser held it up for Chyle to see. “Set your eyes on this child to whom has been given the gift of life.” He kissed it, feeling a part of his father, a part of him strengthen.

“Give my child to me,” Chyle stretched out her arms.

Dreser smiled. “Father will delight to know he has another grandson, a boy child to strengthen the powers of the Deituk family!”

Chyle smiled. “To strengthen and weaken, until he finally destroys.” Dreser heard but did not pay attention; the sight of Chyle holding his son, his second son, enthralled him. “What is it you wish to name him?” He remained kneeling beside Chyle, stroking back the hair from her face. The newborn squealed in his mother’s hands, he was tiny and weak yet Chyle knew there was more power in this child than its small form let show.

“I name him Daestroy,” she answered. “I believe it to be a fitting name.”

Dreser smiled proudly, “Indeed, you think well my dear. Daestroy. Perfect.”

Chyle pushed herself upright, she held her son high, a sudden change in her manner and features. Dreser made to hold the child but she raised herself to her feet.

“The Deituk family feels strengthened, does it not son of Deituk?" Her voice was calm, her eyes glittering.

Dreser nodded. “It does. I have two sons with whom I have bonded. It certainly feels strong!” he breathed deep, grinning. Chyle’s ragged clothing barely covered her nakedness when she heaved a sigh of contempt throwing the child in a sudden movement into the air chanting...

“Take it Folieke

This child kill.

Deuglias has seen his end

May Daestroy,

Be the complete fall

Of the Deituk clan!”

No sooner had she done this, Foliek Weulfoul soared through the air snatching the child’s frail flaying arms with her frog mouth, Foliek Harfj followed next making for its feet, tearing the child in half, and together they flew away toward a burning Angoruis with the two halves of Daestroy resting one each of their tongues.

Chyle stood watching, a satisfied smile lit her face, and she glanced over at Dreser whose face was ashen.

“What have you done? You wicked woman!” He sputtered, and then grew silent. Chyle Kere thought she had won. She felt certain that all power was hers but she was wrong. She turned away from the glaring Dreser, silently summoning the vermin to her.

“Wait,” Dreser said, his tone empty of emotion yet full of it. “I feel my being slowly wither, soon I shall pass on like every other human. And my father’s spirit will right after my going be weakened.” He stepped awkwardly toward her. “Let me just once more hold you in embrace.”

Chyle eyed him, she felt no pity but maybe she could have him for one last time, and she put an arm around him. It was enough, Dreser had her neck in a vice like grip. “You are a part of me, do you not know? Your words shall not spare you, my love.” He had her till the very last breath escaped their bodies.

Deituk felt himself tremble for no apparent reason. All was going well, the lands below were colder than ever and wrought with every possible illness for those who still breathed to partake of. He and Foliek Erwufj were over Wild Narrow over which the sky had turned a rather dull gray and lightening streaked now and again. The surrounding sky was more or less of the same nature but not so dull gray as this cloud here.

“Flemezour has been hit and burns,” Deituk observed aloud not bothered to hide the pleasure he felt. And then he trembled again, more violently this time but was unperturbed and commanded the Foliek to turn toward the Kourass and Mount mountain leaving Stompsledge and the rest of the lands and forests for last. Foliek Erwufj however flew straight toward Flemezour ignoring the orders.

The nearer they got the weaker Deituk began to feel, trembling almost every other moment, his being felt hollow. Across his vision flew two more Folieke carrying within their partially open mouths something remarkably like a body torn in half, they were too far off to make out if it really was a child or not but soon he knew for the Folieke neared the edge of the cloud like grayness and let fall the thing from within their mouths.

Deituk paled and sickened, weakened. His end was near. It was Dreser’s younger child that had got thrown inside the burning walls of Flemezour, the giant half frog and half snail creatures flying right into the grayness themselves after tipping over the mouthfuls.

The Folieke had betrayed him. And then again, far off, he saw another Foliek with a dangling body from its mouth – once thrown into the grayness that was Flemezour, Deituk knew Dreser had met his destruction as had his youngest child.

“Turn back Foliek Erwufj, to Wyoungthed I must go! To find my eldest grandson…Turn!” Foliek Erwufj paid little heed to the command of a less than human being’s ghost that rode on him, he said calmly. “Do not trouble yourself Lord Deituk,” he drew abreast the lightening streaked grayness, with Deituk slapping his side, “The one you desire to seek, no longer lives, and in moments, neither will you.” As he finished his say, Foliek Erwufj flew sideways into the cloud causing Deituk to lose his balance – being weak made it so much harder to stay on the giant bird’s back and the moment Deituk tried grabbing hold of Foliek Erwufj’s side, the Foliek turned his massive frog head, flicked out his tongue and lo! Lord Deituk was captive. Mere half a moment later, Foliek Jahg and Foliek Brao flew headlong into a fiery Flemezour, the limp and pale body of Deuglias also in half hung from each of their mouths.

The Eangomiern along with the company of nurts were a long way off from the Truole ship, the Kourass was choppy and the raft threatened to overturn but did not and the lot reached the shore soaked, shivering but otherwise unhurt. Rain and snow came down heavy and none could see clearly but somehow their feet stepped ashore.

Zetreh lead them far from the water’s edge. “Wild Narrow is where you must head to,” he said pointing in the direction, behind their backs and to the left. “The shore of the Kourass is not safe for neither man nor nurt. The folks that lived here once have all left when the hour struck, they who survived dwell nowhere near here. Go children of the Wise One, go! The sky turns grayer above Wild Narrow; Flemezour burns. It is there, below that lightening streaked patch of sky that you ought to be when the storm clears.”

The wind blew harder and louder. Fiel yelled above the roar, “What of you, Zetreh father of nurt and beloved of our creator?” Her words were partly lost on the wind but Zetreh understood.

“Worry not about me for I am in my beloved’s heart and she is in mine,” he embraced the group, one big hug, “Not ever again shall we be apart.”

Cineon and Dreke waited a moment outside their house, and then Dreke, stubborn and proud took Cineon by the arm saying, “Let us find our future away from here. We are not wanted and I desire never to return.” Snow fell heavy and wind blew in cold drifts. Their clothing was fine, being mere undergarments. “If we do not move now, we shall freeze to our deaths!” Dreke exclaimed pulling Cineon’s arm harder but she simply stood there.

“We have wronged ourselves and father,” Cineon turned to face him. “I am your sister Dreke, daughter to our father and mother… We are Hegleoks!” Every word she spoke made her weep, her appearance was like that of a living ghost.

Dreke on the other appeared well and heartless as it was for, he dragged her along and away not caring for a word that she uttered.

They left the street walking aimlessly... toward far off.

Beneath their feet the ground trembled ever so slightly, and the soil on its surface began to turn and it all happened unnoticed.

“Well mother,” Brestuev knelt before the fireplace, lighting it. “You are Lady Hegleok again, all power is in your hands!” Aliyha cradled her injured arm in a sling made from her own cloak, It was cold again. “Lady Hegleok yes, heir to the Hegleok Council of the Fair, no.”

Brestuev smiled, “Let us hope Ermal does find the rightful heir and returns her to her place of power and honour then.” Aliyha nodded, “Let us.”

All lands now were being assaulted by stormy weather. Time had a fist beating down on every life and Deituk had thus far spread more illness and unreasonable reason for quarrels to break out among those alive but he did not succeed. Not wholly. Once Foliek Erwufj and the rest of the giant birds flew into a crumbling Flemezour taking with them the Deituk family one by one, the erratic squabbling on ground ceased. The folks amid verbal quarrels and those engaged in physical fighting suddenly stopped. Why were they fighting? None could answer, and that was when all alive united to fight not against each other but against the evil doings of Time and her two remaining allies – Wise Yiolj the creator of the sky warriors and Wise Okir the creator of storms. Deituk was no longer trouble.

In the depths of the grayness that was Angoruis, Inckle had been lying face down on the rapidly melting icy surface below which there was empty, airy space and beyond that, land. He awoke to a swooshing noise and then another and another. It went on for several moments, the swooshing noises. From the corner of his eye, Inckle saw the strangest sight reflected on the semi solid airy ground of Flemezour. Folieke were flying in through flames and melting walls of ice.

The giant birds appeared to fly straight into the various tongues of flame dropping some dangling things from their toad mouths into the fires before they themselves vanished among the orange flickers. Inckle turned gingerly onto his side, and it was then that an earsplitting sound resonated throughout the invisible land shattering the ground where it was solid and causing huge tumultuous waves to rise where the ice had melted. The waves rose and fell dousing the flames that had consumed the Folieke and their charges.

Inckle was floating on water now; the current was swift and took him around. Finding it impossible to stand up or swim, Inckle let himself be carried around in the slush of decaying Folieke and burning tree stumps and crumbling ice walls. The fires quickly died but one tiny spark remained.

Up until then Inckle had not touched his palms to the water, his fists remained cupped holding within them the Wise One’s mind’s spirit’s tiny flicker of immense power.

For several long moments Inckle Vilksumer floated around the ruins of Flemezour. Eventually his thoughts began to drift toward dry land and floherbs, his mother and friends, and finally, they settled on Lady Deulore.

‘Kwairha of my heart, I must set sight on you again if only to claim you as mine!’ That was enough of a motive for him to splash around in the shallow water using the flat of his hands in a vain attempt to stand up and in the bargain sending a spark of snaking fire throughout the grayness. The water churned and tossed him high and low finally spilling forth through the empty spaces as rain on land.

“It delights me so to see you here,” said Edsoniea to Ermal. Each held a newly born child in their arms. The children were born only moments apart and the Spekai had celebrated each birth by lighting the entire bedchamber with lit torches from the hallway beyond which he sprinted in and out to get so many times that now, the entire grand hall, bedchamber aside, was plunged into an eerie sort of semi darkness and Myeopike had fallen from fatigue, excitement and a twisted foot.

He sat a short way away from the cot having held the children for a brief moment for the first moments of each of their lives, the pain on his twisted foot completely ignored until now. He massaged it with a thick paste of Seruil*, he preferred not to eat this particular floherb, its taste was not to his liking and besides, he had no open wound just a mere swelling.

Of course, Edsoniea had seen the Foliek enter and take the dead Deuglias away but that had all been a blur to her.

“I have come to return you to where you belong, to where now, these little ones belong,” Ermal gently placed the child he was carrying beside the other one, next to their mother.

“Home?” asked Edsoniea softly, Ermal nodded. “Feolsa and Quaeslos are home,” Edsoniea said looking around. “I am home too.”

The young Hegleok fell silent for a long moment, he looked from his sister to the children, at the surroundings and finally at Myeopike who caught his glare and jumped to his feet. Ermal grinned.

The Spekai stood gingerly placing his hurt foot on the ground. It would let him walk toward the cot, he approached his dearest fair friend.

“Edsoniea Hegleok,” he addressed her in the gruffest voice he could, “You are the true heir of the Hegleok Council. It is therefore that you must return to Stompsledge.”

Edsoniea let tears flow. “Myeopike, you never would call me that! Your name for me is Reign, how can you not call me by it?”

The Spekai’s stony expression dissolved too. He fell to his knees. “Reign, you must live right by the name,” he embraced her. Even Ermal felt the love and truest of friendship between the two move him deeply. “Do not deny the future your reign.”

Edsoniea agreed, “I will go only if you come with me. I desire that the children know you and all about the Spekai folk for though they are not of Spekai blood,” she lay a gentle hand on the infants, “Their hearts are of Spekai kind. I wish their minds to be the same too.”

“What you are saying my dear sister,” interrupted Ermal unable to restrain himself. “Is that you want Feolsa and Quaeslos to learn and live the life of the Spekai folk, is that not so?”

Myeopike’s jaws dropped open, he stared from one to the other and then at the twins.

Edsoniea nodded, exhaustion made itself seen on her face. “It is just so. The Spekais’ ways of life unequal our ways… the race of men needs to be like the Spekai folk, in mind, heart and soul. And I much desire you, Myeopike to be to them a father and to me a husband.”

The Spekai dissolved into a pool of tears and his face had a huge awestruck expression. “Lady Hegleok asks a Spekai to wed her,” he beamed looking at Ermal and then at Edsoniea, who nodded eagerly. “Oh how could this Spekai refuse!?”

There was no more talk or thought, all was agreed. Once Edsoniea awakened from a well and long deserved rest, and the stormy weather cleared, the five of them would begin their journey toward Stompsledge.

Also Myeopike knew the soil was turning all around Wyoungthed, The swifter the turns, the cleaner the soil would become – rid of all evil and impure doings that had been done upon it by Time and her allies. He began planning another exit and entry route to the grand hall for however much Wyoungthed beyond changed, and wherever he might live in the future, the Spekai decided his grand hall would stay the same, always his home and he its master.

Zetreh stood long moments on the Kourass’s shore, harsh winds and sleet coming down all around him. The Truole ship barely visible, and not for long he knew.

“Goodbye Xeira, goodbye one last time…brave Aengomiern, may the Truole spirit remain present in the earth once sea.”

Underneath his feet, Zetreh felt a slight tremble. It was time to move away from the Kourass and her shore and his past. The future was a run away and he had to begin the race.

If anyone had set their sights on the running figure, they would have seen a blur on the wind as Zetreh headed at a sprint toward Wild Narrow where the first downpour of a new era for all living would rain down at any moment. The end of Flemezour was soon to be the beginning of a new and better world.

Behind him, the shore of the Kourass shook and buckled inward, slowly turning the earth inside out while at the same time the waters of the Kourass began to grow shallow, the earth beneath kept on turning and parting. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I wait my end,” said Xeira to the stormy sky, she stood on the deck of the Truole ship as it pitched and scraped along the rocks beneath the shallow waters. “Come oh change and tear apart the riverbed, turn the waters and the life they hold into earth, the two to preserve.”

Till the very end Xeira stood firm, a true Aengomiern Truole Lady. The ship soon vanished taking the waters along with it. Leaving in its place a vast land of soil turned and richly glistening even in the dullest of weathers. Snow and rain kept falling but no matter how hard they fell, no amount of snow was ever enough to cover the newly turned ground for the earth kept parting and turning, swallowing the snow and rain.

The land that was Fordust Creek too went through the same turning of the soil and the land that was the Creek woodlands that not so long ago in this tale was a carpet of green when Zetreh walked through it, now parted a snow covered stretch of earth and turned over and over taking with it the past of a beastly dynasty – Nauoljath and his predecessors, the lake and the cabins. Snow fell hard and fast here but it disappeared with every turn of the soil faster than it could settle down.

The land that made up Greo too buckled and parted. The ancient tree trunks or what was left of them got gobbled down along with whatever remains of The Tree and the life that inhabited the earth of the Hooded Wizard. The snow too like everywhere else, got swallowed. This turning of the soil went on for a long while until all the snow that fell hard and dense vanished into the depths of the soil and with every turn, disappeared to nothing but fertile land.

A great tremble shook the earth where the village of Syuolika was situated. The village did not survive the quake and neither did those of its inhabitants who had let themselves believe in Deituk and his evilness.

Only the Hurdar hills remained unchanged but for the slightest turn of the soil on their surface several times. Every spoken land in this here tale turned soil several times over gobbling the cold snow and preparing for a fresh breath of life. In some lands the turning of the soil was gentle while in others it was drastic.

“Gather the warriors that still remain alive,” said Time in an angered whisper, she talked to her second Adviser, “Tell Wise Okir and Wise Yiolj to see to it that they are given a higher status than their present ones.” She turned away from the window in the high tower, her expression one of resolve. “This war is not over. Let them who have survived it think otherwise,” a wicked smile stretched across her serious face.

“For Deituk might have perished, and with him his heir and his sons but traces of the evil in his name shall linger yet and, the next while my army strikes, it shall be a cold waking, the first of a great many for nurt and man and all those beings breathing in the new Wyoungthed!” Time said in firm resolution.

Kwairha and Swulirha huddled in the doorway, the icy web felt nothing like the ice it was made of, it felt like a hearth alive with a blazing fire to the ladies’ backs, so welcome. The Wise One stood hunched before them, touching the freshly turned mountain soil with gnarled hands muttering pleasant somethings thought Kwairha as she observed the other, whenever words escaped her lips, then from the earth came new flowering green.

“The calm before the storm,” said the Wise One, catching Kwairha’s eye. “Inckle Vilksumer Earth Protector has Flemezour ablaze while lands about it shall soon be tossed into wintry gale and the earth will be opened swallowing rivers and lakes, the scars of fought battles and lives lost shall with every turn of soil fade away…” As she spoke, her countenance changed. Wise Rieah stood tall and fair before the sisters, eyes intense in their gaze.

Swulirha and Kwairha both gasped this time, two pairs of wide yes stared back at her. The sky above turned a shade gray, and it began to blow.

“Inckle will return to you, Lady Deulore, when this last battle in the war of Time is won…together build Wyoungthed for man and nurt, green and beast…a Wyoungthed for everyone.” As she finished her say, it began to snow, the Wise One bowed to the two taking their leave.

Neither sister spoke, there was nothing to say. All that was good would come along the moment Time lost, her war. And then the very base of the Mount shook rattling the ancient house to its very foundations but nothing, not a brick from the old structure fell. The two sisters felt alarmed but soon that feeling turned to amazement as they saw the gentle turning of the soil taking the freshly fallen snow into its under layer. The surface earth churned gently, parting into the narrowest of cracks to swallow the snow. The base of the Mount trembled again, more forcibly this time, and the layers of earth slid gently lower every time the soil turned and parted in small cracks.

Within the house, Westeria and Nuorta felt the floor and walls shudder but neither gave way. Several more ragged lines appeared in the already cracked ceiling but that too held. The two ladies in waiting had turned the interior of the old house upside down with their cleaning and dusting. It looked a palace from the inside, ready for living.

Rieah walked the constantly turning ground briskly, heading toward Wild Narrow. The dull grayness above it was expanding pushing aside the lighter grayness of the stormy sky. The nurts and the hill man were gathered under whatever shelter they could find. No words were spoken, the howl of the wind spoke of all their worries and fears. Every pair of eyes glanced upward at the expanding cloud. Zetreh strode along unprotected from the harsh wind and snow and rain. He simply stood in the open staring up at the sky, lips forming words none could hear.

Inckle Vilksumer lay under the shelter of a hut’s caved in roof, rubbing a sleepy kind of weariness from his eyes and peering from under the shelter at the happenings beyond his little safe place. His hands felt raw but that hardly troubled him. He was soaked to the very core of his being. Long moments passed and for nurts like Duilo and Kirestle, more than a dozen wakings for they were tired and kept dozing.

Rieah soon reached her beloved’s side and grasped his hand even as it began to rain hard. From amid the drops of falling rain flew hundreds of different kinds of birds. Stragut was on the Wise One’s arm.

Rieah and Zetreh joined by the hundreds of beautiful winged creatures, uttered words in a chant...

“Spill forth waters

That from a burning Flemezour,

Spread across the sky

Spill forth unto lands,

Turning them into

The Hidden,

Of every living nurt

And mankind…”

THE END

Glossary Part One and Two

A Little About The Gamhnurts

Here is a tale that speaks of an old people who inhabited the land of Wyoungthed within no boundaries set by the passing of weeks, months, years – in other words, time did not control their lives.

An ancient kind of people who were as unaware of the concept of time, as a spider’s prey maybe of the spider’s web. One single day would last for them as long as they chose it to last. Often, when there was much going on and a lot of merry making announced, a day could last longer than three to four days of our counting and it still would be too short for the Gamhnurts living in Wyoungthed - the land of timelessness where no man, good or ill mannered had ever set foot.

The Gamhnurts were a folk of tremendous courage and a good many had the intelligence to match.

The Gamhnurts, ever since can be remembered had only once a trouble that divided them. Nothing is known about the cause of the trouble, it probably was recorded in the minds of many but life had a way of blending the past, present and future so that none could clearly state what had occurred those many wakings ago.

The gamhnurts of Wyoungthed from that time of unsettled dispute split into two groups. They kept themselves no names but were generally referred to as ‘the stone lovers and the earth protectors’. These titles were added on after last names.

They fought little among themselves and both groups made efforts to get along. Most often than not, they succeeded.

Homes

The Earth Protectors lived in homes built of stone, three room homes. The Stone Lovers lived in homes of earth, three room homes.

Talents

Gamhnurts were good at game challenges of various kinds. They, well most of them at least, were also good at planting herb, playing string cracker and singing. These were a few of their many talents. Others included knitting sweaters and to make the netted stockings from a particular fiber from one of the many tall stalks that grew about in plenty each of a variety different from the other. The stalks differed in color and texture.

The Ministry

There was a group of Gamhnurts, wise and authoritative that did not exactly rule but maintained order when need arose and saw to it that game events were well organized. The members and head of The Ministry as it was known were highly respected.

Appearance.

These were folk of a height that matched no man nor mountain yet it was distinguishable. The Gamhnurts wore enormous sweater like shirts and covered the length of their muscular legs in loose baggy types. Their feet were clad in finely woven stockings. It was a fact that all gamhnurts had hair of rich colors and straight. Their faces showed them to be fair hearted with eyes the color of rich earth and sky and leaf.

Beliefs.

None really can tell how the Gamhnurts came to be; living in a timeless land, they believed that they had sprung from the soil and stone into each others’ care.

If truly thought over, the entire population of Wyoungthed was one large family of mothers and sons and daughters.

Fact.

Rieah the creator of Wyoungthed and its folk was their mother, leader and this, few of them gamhnurts knew to be true. Those that

did know, flattered themselves into thinking each of them to be Rieah’s favorite.

Socializing.

Public game events, which were held often, were a way of socializing and making new friends and discarding some too though this had never happened because the challenges were on friendly terms.

In fact, in this tale the game event that was held at the Challenge Field was the last one remembered.

The nurts Inckle Vilksumer and Astra Deins played a challenge, which led to a social reshuffle. The first and the last and the most regretted.

Before The Coming Of The Hour.

Life - where age, no matter how big a number hindered nothing of the life of a Gamhnurt letting the ‘nurts’ as they often called themselves enjoy living endless years with little to worry about.

Sheltered under homes made of tiny rocks set about in a proper fancy way the Gamhnurts and their land were under no threat until the coming of The Hour.

-------

Qesdaleenda*

A name given to the lane where the most beautiful and unique variety of floherb grew in the soil round homes in the lane.

Greenstick*

Again, a section of neighborhood near Qesdaleenda after another variety of floherbs.

night’s rest*/ the third waking *

The sun never set in the land of Wyoungthed and night was known only when nurt/s went to sleep. When after awakening refreshed, it usually meant a new day began. The counting of wakings was termed as Wyoungthed counting* and it applied not just to Gamhnurts but to every green, stone and creature within and around the land and its borders.

All over the land, the gamhnurts’ had small clustered neighborhoods.

string cracker*

The Gamhnurts’ favorite music instrument. The String Cracker was the important part of the nurt culture and those who knew how to make it snap, were known to be great musicians.

musical voice.*

All official announcements at public gatherings were recited in musical voices.

floherbs*

the food of gamhnurts consisted of a particular plant which gave a sweet earthly smell when chewed cooked or raw. the plant was half a flower and half leaf and grew in the most populated regions of Wyoungthed.

earth cake*

floherbs were often kept in homes wrapped in mud plates as they tasted better and remained fresh.

healing green*

medicinal herb used by herb medicine believers outside Wyoungthed in the world of men

the tree*

a wicked wise structure of forest wood and entangled roots of young growing trees to form one great growth.

Deituk the Cunning*

an enemy of men and Rieah and an ally to Time, he was feared greatly for his powers and immense dislike for the human, animal and plant worlds. Once, a great many ages before the title of ‘Deituk the cunning’ he had been Deituk the Wise One – guardian of health and harmony between every human and beast, to each other and themselves. But then his ways changed and he turned against the Wise minds and all that was fair, the moment of temptation had been presented by Time in the moment he set his sight on Ugliyer in whose being Time had embedded a passion for nastiness. Deituk the Wise One fell under the influence of Ugliyer and desiring to impress and win her attention and affection, he betrayed himself and all the Wise minds.

Time had his respect for she sought to destroy things in the world they both hated. Deituk had his own son born unlike him but only in resemblance for within they were the same, wicked and strong and, friends of Time.

hour of the bat*

an expression used to mean later than midnight.

Deituk’s place of hiding*

a cave, a little rise in the ground on the border of the very edge of the human, plant and creature living world.

Foliek*

fierce looking breed of half large snail half giant frog type creatures with wings. They could fly and did so in the dark where no eyes could see right. The Foliek were friends of Xeira and had been so to the entire wave peoples from the oldest to the most recent generation.

Dreser*

human son of Deituk. Born from woman Ugliyer and Deituk in a marriage of power and passion.

Angoruis*

the name the folk dwelling on the banks of the ancient Kourass called the land of the Wise minds’ spirits.

Flemezour*

The Land where Wise minds’ spirits lived.

Ailieth*

Chamber of quiet and recreation within the Tree dwelling in

Flemezour where spirits of the wise minds rested.

Truoles*

The earliest settlers/dwellers upon waves of the river Kourass. They were known for their power and perception, great friends of the wise minds that ruled land, wind and plant/green. The Truoles foretold the future. Why they chose the waves to live on, no one knows for certain but while they sailed and lived as they did oblivious to the passing wakes. In this respect they were a lot like the gamhnurts of Wyoungthed. The folks on land surrounding the river began calling the Truoles by two distinguished titles in the language of the folk of Wild Narrow. Every object under their possession, whether the ships they sailed on or jewels they wore held a reflection on how alive they were. Every Truole had only to touch his/her possessions to know how alive they or their fellow Truoles were. same with how each one of them felt, thought.

Eangomeir*

in the common speech of the land folk, it meant, Life is forever.

Aengomier*

this meant Love knows no power other than its own.

Creek woods*

the forest land that bordered one side of the Mount and an area of Fordust Creek.

grand hall*

like the Tree only difference being it stands as a prison of rock under ground.

Myeopike*

the unwise master of the grand hall in the woodland area bordering Gamhnurt land. This so called being came from a folk called Spekai. These were born of woodland earth and ancient roots of trees long gone, withered or destroyed by Time. In every forest there’d be one Spekai but eventual only Myeopike remained the one survivor. the Spekai might have been unwise but their hearts were noble and kind. they were enemies of Time.

wavespun*

a clothing material spun of waves and made into garments for Sea Truoles The spindle was the sea surf that delicate fingertips caressed and with eyes they envisioned patterns that their fingers upon waves put together, as clothing. The Aengomiern wore garments resembling different fish skin and the Eangomiern’ clothing resembled the various patterns of sea waves.

Hurdar*

distant hills bordering lands from Stompsledge to the Mount and the forests, rivers. the young men from these hills, like their forefathers were hard built and stone colored. they wore garments tailored from nature; large greens and reptile skins. generally good natured but fierce about intrusion that threatened whatever life they had they sought no troubles with the other folks and lived and kept to themselves. they had no families, no women companions. Time had destroyed them in a moment’s rage when Hurdernut the leader of all of the communities refused alliance and chose sides with a certain Rieah of Wyoungthed. Time left the hill men in perpetual youth, that was the punishment she rewarded them. men simply stopped aging.

Hurdarel*

language spoken by the men of Hurdar. abrupt and melodious at the same time.

Nauoljath the Cruel*

Ancient guardian of the Creek woodland. Long like in appearance but more fierce and a lot bigger and menacing. He was the king of his beastly folk. Those passing through the forest never felt the presence of Nauoljath or his folk, it was only those who lingered too long under tree cover who got acquainted with his wrath and dislike of intruders.

hour of the next waking*

to the beasts of the forests this was what was meant by midnight beginning of a new day.

day star*

the sun was often called the ‘day star’ by folk of Syuolika.

sprinkling pepper grain*

young woman* Aiker/old woman* Kere

an equivalent of the term ‘mrs.’

a way of keeping evil and bad luck at bay.

a bad toe*

a saying which meant someone was a big trouble maker.

Meshmittle*

a sort of mixture of a paste of grapes and a herb called Rew.

meal of the waking*

last meal taken before gamhnurts and Spekai folk decide it time to end a long waking. very few whiles did this happen and when the waking stretched, the slumber to mark its end was deep and many more times long lasting.

Kirestle’s waking*

when one gamhnurt began keeping track of wakings according to her/his resting moments. In this case it was Kirestle Redgate who kept a count.

gamhnurts of old*

in the wakings when Rieah had left Wyoungthed to keep the nurts and the land safe, all the gamhnurts in the entire land had a silent quarrel over what is still not known but the end result was that they divided themselves into two social groups - the earth protectors and the stone lovers. hence the phrase ′ gamhnurts of old*′ had a meaning.

pleaded with fairness*

a saying which meant somebody offered heartfelt prayers to the heavens to make a change for the better.

scent of sweet blossom*

smells of spring when flowers are a bloom.

Inckle took a stop closer, “I sir,” he said a little confused*

Gamhnurts were a folk who knew nothing of men’s world, of kings or queens, of princes or princess and the power these held in the lands of men. Indeed the language the gamhnurts spoke was a little different than people in other lands, and some words and phrases they did not understand often due to the dialect they spoke in, at other times because among themselves, they only had two social classes so unlike us, men.

words of Time*

though not mentioned in the tale, at the moment when Time gifted the men of Hurdar an ageless life with no companionship, to them she said: ‘Your alliance with the unwise I have rewarded and you shall live the reward unchallenged, for, if challenged, you and those with whom you form alliance to fight me shall be destroyed. Let my words be remembered. Live well.’

in the palm of her hand*

she had his mind and heart conquered by lust so that anything

that might be asked from him, Dsarest would concede.

“Why is it you lie to me Stragut? You never used to.”*

in the wakings when Rieah and Dsarest and all the Wise minds ruled the lands in peace, when Time was a frivolous threat, Dsarest’s aid like the aides of every other Wise minds were personally known to each others’ masters. Stragut had been close to his master but even closer to Rieah the Wise, his master’s dearest friend. She knew his strengths and weaknesses, his secrets and he knew her power and he revered it.

Seruil*

a thorny variety of floherb found in dense sections of Wyoungthed’s woodland. these floherbs were tiny and rather shrub like in appearance and to touch. they tasted sour and bitter.

crawling creeper*

what gamhnurts called snakes and other venomous crawling things.

tickle stalks*

hairy ticklish earthworm like things, if touched caused excessive itching which finally led to the bleeding of the area of skin which had contact with the stalks.

Skipping Toes*

a game involving a skipping race on toes.

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