Chapter XII:
The Nihlion
The Spear and the Sword
Nearly two full days before Noro expected, Amarin released Nihls and his companions from their cells, sending Ealan and Ado south toward the harbor in a carriage. He returned Urian and supplied a fresh horse for Thurinn to ride. He also gave his friend a sealed envelope addressed to Ebbe, commanding among other things that she flee with Ilnoron and follow Nihls into the south. Ebbe had become, in all but flesh, the child's mother, and would do whatever Amarin asked to see to the child's safety. He did not tell Nihls what the letter asked, since he knew his friend would not be willing to carry such a message. 'He is yet too hopeful that Noro might by some means be persuaded to give up the power and might he has gained in Alwan,' Amarin wrote to her. 'But you and I have seen too much to think such a thing.'
Nihls made his way to Anatheda quickly, passing along the roads used by the army of the Blest, which were now well trodden and clear. He was accosted by several guards along the way, but Amarin's seal was enough to persuade them that he was not up to any mischief. 'Just a messenger,' they concluded, though they eyed the toothless man Thurinn with suspicion.
When he came to Anatheda, however, he met something he had not in the least anticipated. Amarin himself would never have sent him on this journey had he known how many in Anatheda would be ready to leave Bel Albor. In the end nearly two hundred people departed with him, including all those who had in the old days been known as Teachers. There were many 'Teachers' among the Blest now, but none of them knew the traditions of Thedval, and every one of them was approved and appointed by Noro alone. Garam and Ebbe came also, and Ilnoron with the latter.
They followed a straight path toward the harbor, but their great numbers slowed them.
Noro and a band of his warriors awaited them at the Clefts, just a short ride north of the harbor.
'Is this what the honor of Nihls comes to?' Noro shouted as he and his armed men spread themselves out upon the road. As the Enthedu approached they could see more than a hundred warriors, all mounted and armed with spears in their hands and swords at their hips.
Nihls quickly came to the front, his body shaking but his heart without doubt that he had done as he thought he should have. 'It is true what the reports have said concerning you, Dullsword!'
'Whether they are true or not, brother,' Nihls said, retaining the traditional greetings of the Enthedu, 'these people have chosen to depart Bel Albor, and you cannot justly waylay them - unless you have utterly abandoned not only the name Enthedu, but the Spirit also.'
'The Enthedu have a new name,' Noro replied. 'The Blest are the bearers of the truth now - and they bear it better than your master would have it.'
'I have one master,' Nihls replied. 'The Truth, and whatever you name it, it remains the same. Your Blest, however, are of a different substance. It is fitting, then, that they should have a new name. You know the ways of Thedval, and there are many witnesses here among us who might testify to the same. If you stand against us by force you openly declare yourself in opposition to the people of Theodysus. In which case if you are, despite such a stance, yet to be counted among the Blest - then the Dragon himself, who opposed Theodysus and hated the Hidden Name above all, might very well fit in with your people. That is what you would stand for if you lift a weapon against us.'
'Is he a devil, then, who would retrieve his own son from a theif?' Noro asked, shifting positions in his saddle.
'A thief!?' Ebbe suddenly shouted, pushing herself forward to stand beside Nihls. 'How long has it been since you have even looked at the boy, Noro, master of Bel Albor? You have saved mankind, but what of your own flesh? You have taken everything from the boy for the sake of your ambitions! It is you who is a thief!'
'Bring the boy to me,' Noro demanded imperiously, his knuckles white as he gripped his spear. It was not the same spear he once bore. That weapon had long since been abandoned. But he retained some part of his old weapon each time he had a new spear forged. Some of the iron, at least, remained the same. He now handled it quite skillfully. There was no hint of the young Enthedu who had, once upon a time, taken up a weapon he did not know how to use.
Ebbe started back at Noro's command, realizing perhaps for the first time how completely their old friend had vanished. 'Swallowed by the Dragon,' she thought as she looked at his hateful eyes.
'You are a man of sense, Noro,' Nihls began, stepping forward to shield Ebbe from Noro's threatening gaze. 'That much has always been true. You know there are times when the rules fail us, and we must simply trust to the God that he knows what is best. It is said that a woman must be faithful to her husband, and that she should not abandon him. But when a man tries to murder her, is she then to remain at his side? The old ways of the Enthedu have always understood such things; and there has always been sense to their practice, even if it meant that something less than perfect was the result.'
'The sun flees from us, Nihls,' Noro interrupted. 'We have not time for one of Abbon's lectures.'
'You are a man of sense, Noro,' Nihls repeated. 'You know that you never loved Giretta; how then should we take your abandonment of the child? How shall we understand this except for that, just as you did not love his mother, so also you do not love him. Say what you will, your deeds have already spoken. Giretta has spoken also,' Nihls said, meeting Noro's gaze.
Noro's eyes narrowed as he looked angrily at Nihls. 'What nonsense are you speaking?' he barked.
'Giretta told me to care for the child if she were to die,' Nihls said. 'If doing as a child's mother wished is thievery, then there will be many thieves among the saints in that day when all things become part of the truth again. You are a man of sense, Noro. And is it not sensible that I should care for what you have discarded? But you did not worry about your son's safety before now - and you worry now only because you think his presence among us puts you in the right. In truth you do not even hate me enough to pursue me to this place. It is no secret to the Enthedu that you have sought Meidi now for over two years. You are a man of sense! What else could her reticence mean but that she would not have you for the father of her son! Slay me now, Noro. Go to her! Slay every one of us and take her back to Albori to be your bride - to be queen in Ancient Aedanla's place. You will not thereby win her love. Kill us all, but you will still fail. Your lusts have cost you everything, though you may for a time convince yourself that in the wars of Bel Albor you have proved the victor.'
Noro quivered with rage and then leaped from his horse. The wind howled as he approached, as if the heavens themselves were set in motion by his anger. He took up his spear and thrust it at Nihls, who was barely able to dodge the blow. Finding himself standing beside Ebbe, Noro struck her with the shaft of the spear and knocked her off her feet. He spat and turned his attention to Nihls once more.
Noro's lips quivered with anger and he thrust his spear at Nihls again, this time tearing a gash in his side. Before he could strike again, however, Nihls turned and backed away from him. His sword hung useless at his side, though he wanted very desperately to draw it out. Suddenly Thurinn rushed forward and grabbed Noro from behind, pulling him over onto his back.
'No!' Nihls shouted, just in time to prevent Thurinn from smashing Noro's skull with a rock. The lord of the Blest kicked the toothless man away and motioned for his warriors to attack the Enthedu. He focused his rage, however, on Nihls alone. Thurinn stood up and watched helplessly as Nihls dodged attacks and received blows from Noro's spear shaft. The mounted warriors approached with their spears drawn to kill whoever resisted them.
'Noro!' Nihls shouted. 'There is no need for this! And you know it as well as I do!'
'You are a fool,' Noro bellowed angrily, 'Shall I rest easy in the kingdom knowing that a hundred rebels bear the name of Theodysus falsely?'
'Your whole body is a tongue, Noro,' Nihls said as he circled his opponent, 'what will you say with it? You say Theodysus with your lips, but
what of the spear?'
Thunder roared overhead, and rain began to fall. Lightning streaked across the sky in a sudden storm, scattering some of the horsemen and driving some of the animals mad. Watching the horsemen drawing near to the Enthedu Nihls remembered what Meidi had said.
'Do not strike at me again, Noro,' Nihls said. 'I lie not. It may be your death.'
Noro laughed, and a gleam of excitement seemed to pass into his eyes. 'You are a mere man after all then?'
He lunged forward and the head of his spear was turned aside by the dull edge of Nihls' sword. Far from angering him, the sight of the drawn sword seemed to fill him with joy. Noro struck again, but Nihls spun around, letting the dull edge of his sword strike Noro's ribs.
Most of the strength of the blow came from Noro's own attack, but Nihls felt sick suddenly as he considered his own contribution. Moreover, if he wished to survive, he would not outlast Noro by making such slight injuries.
Noro attacked again, this time aiming for Nihls' leg. Nihls leaped in the air and stepped on the shaft just below the blade. As Noro tumbled forward, Nihls lifted his own sword so that Noro ran straight into the dull point. Noro's attack was strong enough that the sword was pushed into his shoulder, releasing a stream of red blood onto his now rain-soaked shirt.
Looking behind him Nihls could see Thurinn watching nervously. In his hand he held a rock, as if he were ready to throw it.
Noro tried to take advantage of his distraction; he thrust his spear forward to pierce Nihls' chest, but the Enthedu caught the spear just as the head cut into him. His hands burned as he held back the full extent of the blow. Blood poured out over his hands and Noro ripped the spear back. He quickly raised his sword and backed away to better defend himself.
'Noro,' he said. 'You are the greater warrior. That no man can doubt. But there are things greater than war.'
'Show me, then, Enthedu,' Noro said, using the old name of their people as a curse. 'If every man lived as the Enthedu live, what justice could there be? Every good man would die at the hands of the wicked and then there would be nothing but blackness.'
'There may be blackness either way,' Nihls replied, his chest rising and falling rapidly for all of his exertions. 'But there is also justice in its purest form: A man suffering wrongfully. For in the victim is endured the punishment of the wicked man. This is why Theodysus suffered the terrors of the Dragon without complaint, and as if it were a punishment for his own ill deeds. For we are one creature. If you kill me today, then I know fully that I am in his hands, even though I know nothing else. But you, as you strive for power and lust, you will never know anything.'
Noro charged, and Nihls cast aside his sword for good.
But of a sudden a single arrow struck Noro through the throat as he rushed forward. Life failed him and he fell to the earth clutching his neck. His eyes raged for a moment with anger and hatred, and Nihls thought he could see the Dragon himself within Noro's eyes. A moment later he was still. Looking around wildly Noro saw Amarin standing off the road to the north upon a stone clutching a bow in his hand. When they saw one another Amarin cast the weapon to the earth and rushed forward. He grabbed Ebbe from the ground and carried her away from the warriors of Noro, who had begun to kill whoever they could reach. 'Flee!' Amarin shouted, and the great mass of people began to run, some fleeing into the wilderness, and others following Amarin and Nihls into the south.
Thurinn pulled one of the warriors from his saddle and leaped upon the horse, taking up the spear to knock still more of Noro's men from their horses. He did nothing more against them, however, and let them flee from the stampeding Enthedu. The sky grew fully dark and water seemed suddenly to pour out over the Clefts and into the road. The ground rumbled and fiery founts burst from the earth.
To the north some said that they could see the lumbering form of a great dragon, the very presence of whom seemed to conjure every sort of thunder, hailstorm and whirlwind into existence.
The people rushed to the harbor and soon were welcomed aboard the ships. Ebbe and a weeping Ilnoron were greeted by Meidi, whose face was pale with worry. She rushed forward, past all the panicked Enthedu to greet Nihls and Amarin. But when she arrived she found them arguing.
'Take care of her, Nihls. Swear to me that you will!' Amarin demanded.
'You know that whatever happens you need no such oath from me,' Nihls replied. 'But that does not make your words sensible.'
'I chose my path,' Amarin said. 'When I loosed the arrow I chose it; and I do not know that I would not choose again to save Ebbe from peril if I had to. I have no place in your ships. Sail, and forget our evils, Nihls. Forget what we have become. What I have become – a killer.'
'There is not a soul among us who is so constant that he will not err. He may even err to the point of death. But so long as there is life within you there is hope - hope that you might once again see the truth. Do not give that up. To repent is to turn from your evil; but you would surrender to it. Perhaps you will err again - nay, you will. Shall you, therefore, cease to struggle? The Enthedu are not made of those who do not err, but of those who, by knowing the Hidden Name, can no longer be destroyed by it. For in the Hidden Name of all things - error is swallowed up.'
'That is enough!' Meidi interrupted, taking Amarin by the hair and dragging him toward the ship. 'The whole harbor is falling apart - we do not have time for your arguments,' she said angrily. 'If you cannot choose aright, I will choose for you.'
As she spoke the rocks above the harbor burst and a stream of water rushed over them, pouring down to the harbor. The flood that stripped flesh from spirit slammed against them and drew them out into the open water. When the chaos had passed, however, they surfaced, whole and untroubled by the dread flow which had made so many ghosts of the immortals.
As small boats were lowered to retrieve them, in the shadow of Bel Albor's death throes, they clung to one another and laughed.
The last of the ships cast off and in the chaos of that storm the Enthedu left Bel Albor and sailed for many weeks into the south, ultimately coming to a bay on the southeast coast of Weldera, from whence they made their way into what we know as Solsis.
Of those who landed in that day some went their own way. Some parted from them in peace, some bitterly, but those who remained took upon themselves the name Nihlion, to forever distinguish themselves both from those who gave chase to the objects of their own private ambitions - these they name 'Omnion' - and from those who falsely lay claim to the name of Theodysus. Among these was the elf Rinin, who, as my reader may have already guessed, founded the city of Rinin and Titalo, where men worship the star Theodysus, but not the truths represented thereby. Though Rinin ultimately fell under the power of Amlaman, and therefore of Agonas, who in our age was called Agonistes, Titalo remains to this day a city devoted to the stars and their goings on. Rinin himself was never accounted for by the elves of old, and it is therefore likely that he met his end a long time before the elves came to dominate the continent of Ilmaria. Undoubtedly Falruvis recognized the name of his old shipmaster, though. Many such names, places and persons existed in the ancient days and perhaps exist even to this day as reminders of what the elves had left behind when they fled the North.
When they landed Nihls enjoined the people to remember everything they had seen and heard in Bel Albor, and to remember always that the struggle against the Dragon, while it must be waged by the word of Theodysus, it is waged not in Bel Albor or in Tel Arie, but within each and every heart, and is not over until the lies of the Dragon have been driven from the soul. 'Truly Theodysus destroyed him,' he said, 'but if we are to enter into his victory we must follow.'
Folly and his brothers watched all of this with great interest.
'You see farther than any of us, brother Death,' Folly said as he rubbed his hands together as if to brush dust off of them. 'What will come of this?'
'We will see when we see,' Death replied coldly. He too had be
en hard at work. Though his brother Folly had taken upon himself the greater task of guiding the thoughts of the high elves to this end, it was in truth Death alone who oversaw the end and destruction of the Old World. 'All endings belong to me,' he had said, 'but the course thereto is yours.'
'And all other things belong to me,' Old Man Sleep said wearily, as though he was ready for the whole world to come to an end that very moment.
'Two ages yet remain,' Death said. 'The next shall belong to Sleep, and the last will belong to me. But all of us will have our parts to fulfill.'
'There are things mightier than we at work,' Sleep said soberly. 'We must not forget that. The enemy has his hand in all things, whether he is seen or unseen.'
'What enemy do you speak of?' Folly asked, unusually somber for the lord of mirth and madness.
Death said firmly, 'There is no enemy; there cannot be - for there is only what is - and that is the Truth for the sake of which this whole world was raised and then drowned.'
'How then can you speak of an enemy?' Folly laughed, turning back toward his brother Sleep.
Sleep yawned, weary of all things, and said, 'The enemy is not where the Truth is not, but where it is not seen. Until all men see the truth there will be an enemy.'
Death stared out over the rushing waters that now covered Bel Albor. 'This age belonged to you, brother Folly,' he repeated coldly. 'The next to brother Sleep. But all endings belong to me.'
Wolf
Slowly the waters rose and covered the lands of Bel Albor, first swallowing up the wetlands of Lushlin and all the lowlands of Alwan and Sunlan. Finally the mountains succumbed to the waters, save for the very highest of peaks. As the water poured into Ilvas, however, there remained one man alive when all others had either fled or drowned.
Ghastin stared out into the forest at the wolf who had, for many years now, brought him fresh meat to eat. He had grown accustomed to the taste of raw meat, and so bitter and dark were his thoughts that he began to think not of slaying, but of devouring his old enemies.
The waters came to him in the end, however, and he found his soul swept away from his body, carried upon the waves into distant waters. His memories, also, were washed away, save for the names he refused to forget, though a thousand such floods come to take him. 'Amro,' he said to himself sorrowfully, 'Pelas!' he cursed, though he no longer had a mouth with which to shout.
Revere Proud
I need not, nor am I able to recount all the history of the Nihlion. Their own works, which are little by little becoming known to us in Dominas, will tell that tale better than I or any other historian can. Undoubtedly their own histories are as elaborated as our own, and perhaps even as much as that of the elves. That is the nature of history - for men see through eyes, and understand through their own minds all that they experience. Just as a man cannot reason on truths unknown to him, or in a form incomprehensible, so also the historian must record according to his own purposes and perspectives.
The strength of the Nihlion never lay in their attention to historical detail, and if my reader has come to think that anything of consequence depends on this or that aspect of the history now recounted, he has utterly misunderstood all that has been recorded herein. The strength of the Nihlion lies in their devotion to the Truth.
They say above all things that God is holy. But if their God is a being like unto the gods of Kharku or the gods of Vestron, or the Astral Lords of the Knarse, then he is not holy, for he is not holy who is like unto others. So, the Nihlion understand, he alone is holy who is utterly without a partner - and who is utterly unlike anything else. If the God of whom the Nihlion speak is a being like unto us, then we, insofar as we are beings also, are identical in substance to this God - and so if he is a god, then so also are we. But if we are all gods, then none of us are holy.
The only thing that is utterly different from all things is Being.
And so he who would deny the God of the Nihlion must deny the being of being, and so render themselves foolish for speaking and denying in one breath.
Since being represents all things, it cannot, without contradicting some part of itself, be represented by any word or title or be given any quality - and so it is that its name is hidden from us, who must use words to understand all things.
This is, in short, that which was brought into our city by Revere the descendent of Captain Proud, who learned the doctrines from the author of the Wars of Weldera himself. There are now factions and divisions all throughout the city of Lapulia concerning these teachings. Many wish to have the teachings driven out entirely, while there are some who wish to have them replace the ancient doctrines of our own Magi.
Whatever happens, however, let it not be said by our learned men that the teachings of these Nihlion in any way resemble all the superstitious foolery that has been rightly rejected by our fathers hitherto. Rather, let us make sure that we are not clinging to our own superstitions when we examine these novel doctrines.
The Ancient Riddle
It was said of old that the Star Seers could not err. This itself was a superstition, as even our own Magi has now admitted. The Star Seers saw further than other men, but they still saw as men. They saw from their own perspectives, and as perspective is by its very nature a limitation, the Star Seers were kept from the Truth. But though they were not infallible, their words ought never to be ignored, as they are by far more reliable than any history and any modern calculation. It was said that through Captain Proud's line would come the end of our city. And much of the history of the last several thousand years has been devoted to preventing that result.
But it was also said that from his line would come the savior of Lapulia. Is it an accident, though our Star Seers have forseen it, that Revere Proud comes to us now with a truth that saves men rather than towers? The Magi has complained that the teachings of the Nihlion, while laudable in many regards, would make our nation weak and vulnerable. But herein he reveals that he does not believe our own prophecies. For the prophecies say that the Tower will be broken, and perhaps they will be broken by these very doctrines - the doctrines which would take from us the sword and spear that has long protected us, since the doctrines forbid bloodshed.
But the people of Lapulia, who have for so many ages lived their lives striving to save a city that cannot be saved, and to make safe a world that could never be safe - in other words, our people have lived vainly - the people of Lapulia can finally find some kind of peace in knowing that what they see as failure is not so in truth. For the Truth is always as it is, and nothing can change it or move it from its place. And nothing can render its work into vanity.
So I submit to you, my fellow Lapulians, that the ancient Riddle stands solved in our hearing, as the sons of Revere Proud - the sons of Captain Proud himself - continue the work of their father within our city. Our city will decay, and it will fall. Nothing can change that now. But look to the other side of the Riddle and you will have hope.
End of Book V
About The Author
I was born and raised in New Jersey; and I am New Jerseyan through and through, wherever life may take me.
For Christmas one year my parents bought me a Lord of the Rings computer game. I started playing it and was so inspired by the story that I put the game aside and did not touch it again until I had read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Those books sparked within me a love of reading in general and a love of fantasy literature in particular.
My favorite genre, however, is philosophy, particularly as it relates to ethics and metaphysics. This, together with my love of the fantastic, is the inspiration for my writing.
In my reading I have seen how ideas affect history. For this reason it has been important to me to not simply tell a story, but to show how the characters interact with different ideologies and ethical dilemmas. I want my readers to at least understand, even if they do not sympathize with, the villains of the story.
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