THE HOUR
XEIRA OF THE KOURASS

Within Angoruis*, a place of land between Wild Narrow and the banks of the ancient Kourass, the ancient river course, dwelt the Wise minds’ spirits. It was their world and no living being stepped or even looked upon it. The reason for this was simple, the place was not visible to the human eye and neither was it known to anyone, well it was almost unknown. It was a place between earth and sky and the windy air played itself as the earth of the Land of the wise minds’ spirits while the sky was no different from that shared by the others in life. The peoples who lived in Wild Narrow from the first settlers to the present generation believed that the world of the wise minds’ spirits never existed and to convince them otherwise was hard. While the folk of Wild Narrow held fast to their beliefs, the dwellers on the banks of the ancient Kourass claimed the Spirit world to be frightful and said they witnessed terrible happenings occur to those who had tried to enter or even peek inside that ghostly place. It of course was just human talk and most part of it untrue, just people being superstitious and ignorant about the truth of it all. That worked very well for the Wise as they were hardly bothered and could live every day undisturbed.

See, Flemezour* was inhabited by spirits of the living wise minds. Wise minds were a handful and each had their own field of expertise and when earth, stone and green were in no danger and all living beings content and at peace, the wise minds rested and held councils at leisure debating trivial matters like, which of them should utter the first word to begin the debate of the day. Everything in the land of Flemezour had the spirit of the living and the non-living. The wise minds dwelled in a tree palace where the spirits of trees felled all around forests in lands beyond gathered. Some in peace while some not. Many trees were young and strong. They served as the good foundation while the older and less able ones became the walls and ceiling of the structure.

Among the wise minds that ruled over soil, plant and wind, the arrogant and elegant, as they were known by minds governing the seasons over every land, was the spirit of a mind so fair and merry, Rieah. Never speaking harsh, her words flowed in rhyme and her laugh awakened Elagust and Olaliefe, twin brother and sister, the seasons’ guardians of summer and spring. And when Rieah’s mind’s spirit was troubled, Elagust and Olaliefe as one let begin the cold of winter in Flemezour and in the land beyond, gently. If the matter troubling her was of small significance like old Dsarest the earth and nature’s guardian’s mind’s spirit whom Rieah cared for took to throwing tantrums for little or no reason, Flemezour alone turned chill but if the matter weighing down the mind had greater significance then the chill spread, extending arms to places beyond the chamber of recreation.

On the morning of the fourth thousandth day of her living in Flemezour, the spirit of Rieah’s mind awoke troubled. It had witnessed a dream that for long had stopped haunting her. The tiny flame flickered as the past reawakened itself. The world, her most cherished land; Wyoungthed, now more than ever, faced danger from the wicked stroke of Time. The promise had been kept and her land and people were all near wiped clean off existence. Soon, her people would need her and the one who would find her would be the one who to defeat of the age-old foe, Time.

The mind wandered out of Ailieth* to the windy grounds where all was bare and colder than inside The Tree. Elagust and Olaliefe were in deep thought obviously in communication with one another unaware of everything but the cold and Rieah. The two minds held council debating the threat of conquest and injustice that was to come upon Wyoungthed and the lands around it. Rieah’s mind wandered over and joined in. The decision that the three wise minds came to remained known only to them and that was the way it had to be for a while.

It was five wakings since Inckle had left Wyoungthed. Strength had slowly dwindled making him frail, unable to walk yet an inexplicable force had him moving, staggering on but not ever falling. What floherbs he could come across, he ate but wilted greens gave no relief from the weakness and lifelessness Inckle felt deep inside of him. The world around him appeared far and unreal as he reached the wild edges of his land, the feeling grew. He knew he would shortly step into a whole world very different from his own and that did not scare him as much as the thought of bringing back a stranger with him to Wyoungthed. Surely, the journey forth was tiring beyond words, how would he ever make it back? With these thoughts swarming his head, he did not realize that he had entered the edges of the dense woodland. Suddenly, the dull light began to diminish further into a dense gloom. Inckle stopped in his tracks and stared about him then his feet buckled under and he fell from exhaustion onto his knees, his head touching the ground. He could just close his eyes and rest but no! it would be unwise to let a waking pass in this wood. He began to crawl but all he managed to do was to land on his side and there, Inckle remained in a dream filled sleep.

Sprawled out on the edge of the forest just barely under cover of trees and yet out of sight from any eyes the nurt dreamed and heard strange rhymes in voices of every kind: chirpy, dull, scary, lovely… All these spoke the same one message to Inckle. As he slipped into deeper and deeper sleep, the rhyme took on an almost musical note:

'O gamhnurt Inckle Vilksumer

You rest upon the ground in slumber,

The earth and stones under you that lie

They search for the one they cannot find.

The greens that crown your hair so brown

And circle those tired feet,

They will bind a hold on you

For your land has nothing to eat.’

Inckle stirred, felt himself being pulled and pushed and tried to awaken but that only made him sleepier and he sunk deeper yet into dream.

'The future of life in every land

Man, plant and beast,

Gamhnurts too from Wyoungthed

Depend on you to breathe.

O Inckle Vilksumer

Let Time pass you by, find the Wise One

In her spirit form,

O where she dwells

None can tell, its up to you to find her home.

And when you awaken

This rhyme you will forget,

These voices will disappear.

The challenge is big

A long road under your feet,

With hardly any rest

Be strong; be brave O gamhnurt Earth Protector,

The cruel, the Wise One and the Law

It is you that decides who will win, the rising of the new day.

Awake! Awake!'

Inckle tossed and turned before he finally opened his eyes and found that all about him there was darkness, well, except for a tiny ray of light far off above him. He felt the ground where he lay, and it was not muddy or stony. There were no greens… Where had he crawled to in his sleep?

He got to his feet stretched his hands in front of him and made for the light, it seemed to move further each time and every time Inckle thought just two more steps, it would be another ten steps before that same thought returned. Was this a dream he was awake and walking in or was it reality? As if in answer he felt a hard jab in the back, fell forward onto his knees and suddenly it was bright light rays piercing his half opened eyes from a tree roof above. Another hard poke this time in the ribs and Inckle was wide-awake staring horrified at his assailant.

Two hands grabbed him by the sweater neck and started to drag him again. Inckle was bruised enough as it is.

“Stop! Stop!” he yelled as more harsh ground cut through his clothing before reaching and tearing into his skin. “Who are you and why are you dragging me and where are you taking me?” Inckle asked turning over on his belly and there, he saw the yawning mouth of a tunnel apparently in thin air. Nothing within the tunnel could be seen yet there was a certain sense of dread and a particular charm that made it nearly impossible to resist. Still, the fear won out and just as he was about to be hauled inside, Inckle screamed, “No!” and the next thing that happened; he found himself spread eagled on the forest ground exactly where he had fallen from fatigue. Now, he felt a lot refreshed and sure he was really awake, sat up and began inspecting himself and the immediate surroundings. No bruises, no hurts and as for the surrounding near him, a ground of trees and greens, stones and earth. Grabbing a handful of soil and stone, Inckle let it slip through his fingers and his heart became heavy as he thought of his friends, mother, Wyoungthed … Rising to his feet, deciding which way to go was hardly a question as the only other way to reach the nearest land where men lived was through this ‘tree maze’ as he thought of it. With the image of his mother, her beaming face and her calm voice filling his mind and heart, gamhnurt Inckle Vilksumer began walking.

Back in a fading Wyoungthed, Untholio and his companion had reached Fiel and company. The two were greeted in a warm surprise where Trejeth spoke a few words as he embraced Untholio and Fiel, Astra Deins.

“I do believe that you Untholio have brought back with you the truest friend Inckle has among the Stone Lovers in this land. Thank you for the precious find!” said Fiel softly.

Untholio felt joy and hope surged stronger now in his heart.

Fiel who was holding Astra in a hug, said in a whispered emotion, “My son lost so you could win, I believe he has won, won a brother and I …” she paused and looked him in the eye, “I have had a second son but only just found him. May we embrace ourselves as a family?”

Korehk stumbled outside looking a lot better than since the last time Untholio had seen him. The floherbs paste and many wakings of warmth and care from the two Earth Protectors had done him good.

“I probably do not deserve to be hugged or even treated like family as Astra does but I too believe in Inckle and the Earth Protectors and I hold not a thing against them,” he mumbled as he came a little closer to the huddled group. “I know I am but a lighter, a much lighter shade of young gamhnurt breath but it would mean much if I would be allowed to join with you and look for Inckle so he can save the world of Wyoungthed, the lives of all the gamhnurts or at least those that still live.”

Without hesitation, Trejeth and Untholio grabbed him and pulled him in among the circle and embraced him just as hard as they were embracing each other.

“Are we not the gamhnurt family that Rieah will be proud that she gave up her everything for?” Fiel said softly as she looked at each. They were now standing apart deciding what to do next.

“All the homes this side of the land are ruins in the conquest of Time,” Untholio spoke seriously. “Most of these dwellings are void of us folk,” he paused seeing the faces of the rest of his friends, “What? Is something wrong?” He looked worriedly at Fiel and she was smiling.

“The past is what was not right, the present, this waking on, is where you have turned wrong to right.” And she bid him continue what he was saying.

Untholio told them how the few gamhnurt families still alive were too frail to even survive another cold waking. “We are the only ones that may be strong enough to search for Inckle and help him find Rieah the Wise One.”

Astra and Untholio both decided that neither needed rest and as the others were refreshed enough, the five could get on the move. Hoisting one stocking sack nowhere near empty with floherbs wrapped in earth cakes onto one shoulder and a sack containing spare sweaters and baggies onto another, Trejeth lead the way. Fiel and Astra followed next carrying between them more earth cake full of floherb and some few more usable pieces of clothing. Untholio and Korehk were last and a bit slow to catch up with the others, understandably so because Korehk needed to be helped with every step.

“I had not realized until a little earlier when Untholio said that we had to find Inckle and help him in turn to find Rieah, he has no idea of all that has happened since the last waking when he set off to the nearest land of men.” Trejeth reflected his face sober. “How can Inckle be told that while he was away on an errand brought on by his own compassion his best friend, the one he loves and nearly all the land that is his only home, now withers?”

Fiel looked thoughtful and finally said, “I know my son and Trejeth, you are right but let us not worry and tire ourselves just now, what must be told, will be told. Every word has a time to be spoken.” With that she quieted and they strode on.

Xeira the old lived by herself on the mire that was once the river Kourass. Even though it had been many ages since now that the riverbed lay empty of the waters where Xeira’s ancestors had spent long lives sailing upon in ships that were their homes on waves before Time invaded and the river course changed amid havoc taking with it every life on every ship but one. It was marsh ground but that mattered not to Xeira who spent her days on a wrecked old sail that when seen in the dark by people in Wild Narrow and those living on the banks of the ancient river, and still others further away, appeared to glint, sparkle during day or night. None dare approach even the edge of the ancient riverbed for fear of the gone and Xeira was never seen except from a distance where she looked bent and ghostly. And the adults to their children spoke tales in awe and horror:

‘Xeira is a living past. Never dying, living on and on awaiting the return of the others that are long gone.’

It was the kind of life Xeira had control over but chose not to change a thing. In the days of the Truoles* it was known that the fiftieth thousandth generation of their folk would vanish among angry waves and wild winds. One of their great friends would deny them friendship and aid, joining the enemy that was then but a rumor, thus ending an entire people of the waves. Xeira was not a life then but a foretelling of the oldest and wisest Ereth, the leader of the Truoles. ‘A Truole, Lady of the waves shall see life when the fiftieth thousandth generation of us folk is at the dawn of another era and at the twilight of our very long existence. Her task she will see through with gifts every Truole is gifted at birth. Her eyes shall reflect the silver coin in the night sky and her words when spoken shall win the war against Time. Her name will be Xeira.’ So he spoke and his words came to be.

It was on the night of an early winter of the four hundredth year and the fiftieth generation of Truoles when Ingraliez of the Eangomeir* committed herself in passion to Heilot of the Aengomier*. It is from the joining of these two lives that Xeira was born. A child true to the words of Ereth she had gifts that every Truole was born with and one very unique quality: Xeira could see what to others was not there thus learning a lot more than the others, ordinary Truoles. So she knew of Flemezour and of the wise minds’ spirits that dwelt therein. Though her feet never left the deck of the Aengomier, Xeira saw all that went on within Flemezour and among the minds. Her days in company with her folk were counted not because she was leaving them but because they were nearing an end even she dared not prevent from happening. Being a Truole child was hard. Children of the Wave people had to obtain permission to speak to the adults on matters other than what concerned their play. Getting the permission meant long encounters with old leaders of each Truole clans convincing them or at least trying to prove that she was old enough to be allowed to speak of matters that did not concern a child was anything but easy. Though Xeira was Ereth’s prophecy come to life, every Truole treated her no different than their other children and this was just fine with Xeira most of the time but not when, ‘the pot is heating and water running away – steaming’ as she often said to her Truole friends.

She watched, learnt and understood everything that happened waking after waking. While folks around her, child and grown up sailed the waves back and forth living endless days, she joined in knowing full well that each waking spent with the folk she loved was worth much more than all the encounters she might have had with the leaders. She never said a word but readied for the inevitable.

When it happened and the end came for the Wave people, Xeira leapt into the waters and prayed to the evil fate for an end for herself along with her people. There was wind, harsh wind and the earth opened up in so many cracks. The water seeped in through and then a storm broke out, the thunder spelled the reality in its loud rumbling while the sky let fall the lashes of the whip of lightning on sails upon the waters. It was like archers rode in thunderous carriages with torch like arrows shooting down a folks’ end. Ships burnt with Truoles inside and upon them, many a Truole drowned in the waters and were swallowed by the earth along with so many more. It was a cold waking not because the weather had changed from the hot and humid kind that had troubled the Wave people and the land folk around. It was cold because an entire people of the wave and their history, so many generations, were now but subject of myth. Xeira had survived by staying under water and wreckage. The water was not much but the rubble a lot and the earth had caved inward slightly adding mud and fine stones to the muck of remains. The flowing Kourass no longer gurgled.

This happened in days when the land people around were lovers of tales and so all that time ago, those who had witnessed the end of a folk but the beginning of a tall tale told and retold it to those who had not seen with their eyes. So many times was it recounted that the story grew to the ears that heard. Eyes darted to see and they believed.

Xeira knew her life was a legend to the inhabitants of Wild Narrow and to the folks who still lived on the once banks of the now ancient Kourass and to the people of other lands as far as forest Greo and Stompsledge. She knew that in some tales she was a hero and in others a horror but nothing changed in her life. The child whose eyes reflected silver in the night sky had grown in desolation waiting for the day when she would speak words and avenge the end of her folk and her lovely river. The birds were her only friends, particularly the Folieke* who visited her every other night one a time bringing food and news from the world outside her own.

She waited, watching all that went on in Flemezour and the more news the Foliek brought her, she knew that Time was stirring up a war only to lose. At that she smiled. Rieah would not ever let her beloved Wyoungthed along with the Gamhnurts fade to nothingness, she would fight to win and Xeira would fight in the same war; hers was the aim to see rightfulness. They were on the same side.

The Hegleok council of the fair was in session. It was the first assembly with the head of council Aliyha. Winter was still some way off and Cineon’s wedding too but Dreser was already present at the council, the final member. Aliyha made as if her daughter was married, she was not too far from the fact there. Cineon and Deituk’s son were very much in love and devoted one to the other.

“The Muoriels have asked this council to regard the case in which the Orliereas claim the land between Fordust Creek and Mount mountain was stolen from them years before by the elder of the Muoriels; son of Nonulies and Grtrez Muoriel, Hyute.” Zetreh read from a yellowed page as he stood by the door of the Council Room. Aliyha and Dreser looked at him from their notes neatly placed in order, set aside their feather tips,

“Are the Muoriels and Orliereas here to come before this council?” Aliyha was the one who spoke with authority.

“There is a Lady Deulore here Lady Hegleok,” said Zetreh, “She says she comes on behalf of both, the Muoriels and Orliereas and brings word from the heads of the two families.” He stepped aside and gave a slight bow.

There in the doorway now stood a gentle looking young woman wrapped in a cloak the color of ash, her eyes twinkled like gems when struck by bright light. They were silver like and when she walked toward the center of the room, her eyes darted this way and that taking in the faces and eyes staring at her.

“You bring a message Lady Deulore?” Dreser said calmly, “Who is it that has sent you here?”

Swulirha spoke softly and her voice was enticing. “No one tells me where to go and I carry no message I fear. I come here to take what belongs to me by right.” She said and with the slightest pause, went on. “The land between Fordust Creek and the Mount mountain belongs to me, I am here to ask that this respectable council and its wise members grant me that what is mine by law.”

Aliyha spoke in an impatient tone, “Is that so? And what exactly makes you think that the piece of land you claim is yours, is really yours? What proof can Lady Deulore give this council to support this request?”

Dreke could not keep from sneering as his mother attacked this silly good-for-nothing person; the others in the room were quiet and serious. Ermal was thinking of how much this beautiful girl reminded him of Edsoniea and wished his best sister would just return that way Dreser would have no place at the council and he, Ermal, would have his best friend back. His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by Lady Deulore.

“All the proof that is needed will be found right there on those parchments that you have in front of you I believe.” Swulirha’s voice was calm and certain. “I am of the family line of Hyute Muoriel. I am great Hyute’s grand niece from his son’s Wintheul’s third marriage to my mother Yukile.” Dreser located this particular piece of information on a very ancient looking scrap of parchment, it was all written in a scrawl, hard to read but after an effort that so hurt the eyes, readable. He passed it to Aliyha who frowned, narrowing her eyes to near slits to read. A silence followed wherein the only sound heard was from Cineon sitting in the far corner keeping record of everything said, every case, tapping her foot softly, bored with this case already. Hurry up with it all, she needed more action to fill in the large ledger.

“I see you are quite right!” Exclaimed Dreser with the hint of a smile, “Tell us one thing though, just how did you know this bit of knowledge existed in our hands when we ourselves had no idea it was there?” he was serious, even frowning slightly.

“Yes, how did you know?” Aliyha looked up from the task of reading.

“These details were given to head of this council wise Gregieo Hegleok by my parents’ families when they first approached the Hegleok Council. I was but a child, I stood in this very room and on this same spot, I remember.” Swulirha looked straight at Aliyha who felt suddenly frightened of those luminous eyes but then, the fear was gone. They were just a pair of eyes belonging to a petitioner.

“I do not see reason for this council to believe you, let alone grant that what is yours,” Aliyha said, her tone cold. “This bit of detail means not a thing, it certainly does not prove you were here yourself for all we know. An elder member of the family who was present here could have told you about the encounter and you could then have… the land between Fordust Creek and the Mount mountain must therefore remain –”

“Are you denying me what is mine Lady Hegleok?” Swulirha cut in, eyes glowering. “I believe you have understood me wrong,” she went on a little calmer. “I did come before you and this council to state my claim but there really is not a thing you Lady Hegleok or any member of this council can do to stop my taking over what is mine, I have already begun to reside in the Orliereas’ ancient house of dwelling at the Mount mountain.”

Hearing this a small smile spread across Zetreh’s lips quick as a flash and Lady Deulore’s eyes met his an instant not too soon before the entire council erupted.

“You dared?” Aliyha was livid, voice shrill. “I cannot even begin to conceive this! You dared to do something of this sort without the Hegleok council’s consent? How dare you!” Aliyha was the image of fury as sheets of aged yellowed parchment, feather tips and nearly the entire room exploded into confusion. Lady Hegleok was on her feet a towering figure as she rocked back and forth while she screamed throwing everything within her range everywhere. Nearly all of the other members tried to calm her down but that proved hard and made Aliyha angrier. Swulirha Deulore did not flinch and her eyes glowed like silver gems in a night sky. Outside, a harsh wind whistled. A summer rainstorm would soon commence.

“I dared,” said a voice, loud enough so that Aliyha heard what was said amid all the noise she was making yet slow enough so as not to draw attention to itself. “I dared Aliyha Hegleok and now I challenge you to war!” Almost ghost like the ash-cloaked figure disappeared. It began pouring.

Suddenly the commotion stopped and Aliyha stood still long enough to say, “She has gone! Zetreh!” And then she fell back on her chair, as if slapped in the face. The others began to realize what had happened but the last word was lost on them. “The Lady Deulore must be found and brought back.” There was urgency in every word.

“Mother, please calm down.” Cineon was by her side while Ermal tried to soothe their mother by assuring her that Mister Almonne along with Brestuev and Dreke would be sent to seek Lady Deulore and bring her back so that justice could have its say.

“Or mother, why not just forget it all. Let her go, she cannot do much at the Mount mountain without your consent.” Brestuev said with the tone of an expert while trying to get everything back in order.

“Let her go? You fool!” Exclaimed Aliyha, face scarlet. “Did you not hear? Do you not understand what has happened?” Aliyha almost stood and Cineon quickly placed a hand on her shoulder ready to try and keep her mother from getting up but no need arose. A strange expression had replaced the angry one on Aliyha’s face. It was as though Swulirha Deulore, Lady of the Mount mountain was nothing but a nuisance that she, Aliyha, would soon be rid off.

“Your brother is right,” She looked at her daughter, a slight smile appeared on her face. “There is not much that woman can do without the Hegleok council’s consent at the Mount mountain and the land between it and Fordust Creek.” By now the room was fairly tidied up and the council members somewhat settled.

“Everyone, I wish to apologize for my own behavior,” she paused, smiled and continued. “Also for undermining the power of us, this council here. We are the name of justice and it is our life.” There were nods of acknowledgements and pride from all in the room. Well when these words were spoken, no one was seated. Cineon was by Aliyha, Brestuev and Dreke together with Dreser were trying to restore calm and order and Ermal who after having done his best to assure his mother that to stop shouting was best had drifted toward the window where he stood mesmerized, hardly believing what he was looking at.

Time had her entire council brought together in the Hall of Decisions. In her mind the invasion was planned with precision. Wyoungthed would soon fall in her powers completely, the gamhnurts were mostly dead or dying soon and the love child of Rieah, the one she chose endless ages ago to be the one among all the gamhnurts to find her and bring her back to the land of timelessness thus defeating Time in a fight Rieah started when she broke the pact too, would be gone.

A crooked smile, then to her second adviser, “The hour has been chosen. I wish you to prepare for it. Let wise Okir and Yiolj know of this. It is to be the seventh hour of the eighth day of the ninth month from this one. Remember, this war is as much mine as it is yours.” The she turned to her first adviser, “The minute you, my first advisory reach the end of the counting, the world must face the worst of weathers since the Drowning of the Sea people. Sickness and meaningless violence shall come upon every land and seasons will forget to change. Petty fighting among peoples shall turn to ruinous war. Yes, Rieah has begun to pay her price, pity all the wonderful beings of this earth must also suffer for the mistake she made. ” A wicked laugh escaped the throat of Time as these words she uttered.

In Flemezour the spirits of the wise minds’, Okir the creator and ruler of storms Yiolj the chief of the sky warriors were in turmoil. Time had sent a message and it was not to be ignored. These wise minds’ spirits had little time left in the company of peace and other wise minds’ spirits. Now they had to make a hard decision. Their owners had promised alliance to Time but also to Rieah their hearts belonged. Could the wise minds win over their owners’ hearts’ desire? While the two debated this, Rieah’s wise mind prepared to leave and return to her owner who awaited her in the deepest of thoughts at The Tree in Greo. She knew what Yiolj and Okir would decide and how that decision would affect the other wise minds’ spirits. Even as the wise mind’s spirit readied to depart from the land of rest, a message was spoken.

Back in Greo, the Tree stood dark. Not even a leaf rustled, the air still and the Wise One paced along the hall. Voice quietly uttering, “I wish my mind to return to my body but not just yet. Let the one I chose find me first and then it is that I will lead him to you to Flemezour. That is how it is to be.”

And so Rieah the wise mind prepared itself to remain in Flemezour. Evenings began early as whatever sunlight descended and slowly the weather roughened. Okir and Yiolj were working their influence on other wise minds controlling the greens and other nature beings, and on Elagust and Olaliefe too. It was still very early to notice but Rieah’s mind sensed the coming change.

Tesma and Wully could barely move around their home. Age had caught on and weakened them. Their mother was now nearly completely sightless and frailer then ever.

Foliek Erwufj found them exactly where they had been when Untholio left home so many wakings ago it felt.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.