Book 5
The Undying
~*~ Gomen, gomen gomen gomen gomen gomen!!!!!! It's been so long since I've posted anything on ff.net that I had forgotten how much they screw up the format of a story. I had to go back in a fix everything...it was such a bother, but now I finally have a READABLE story. It's incomplete as of now, but your reviews will greatly help me along in the process of writing this story. I live on reviews.... thrive on reviews....without them this story advances MUCH slower. So please, review the story, praise the story, flame the story, critique the story, just, REVIEW!! Not that I'm desperate or anything.... ^_^;; Ja ne~
~*~ For those of you who aren't anime freaks... 'gomen' means I'm sorry, and 'ja ne' means later1
~*~DISCLAIMER - I don't own the Dalemark Quartet, 'cuz if I did there'd be 10 books instead of 4.... This story is entirely my own idea.... any characters or names not mentioned in the original books are of my own creation....any similarities are purely coincidental....blah blah blah....
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"Tell her to make it four years, not two, to allow for inflation." The words still rang in her mind. Four years ago, Maewen had embarked on a journey that would change her life forever. Wend had sent her back in time, 200 years back; to find out what had happened to a young woman named Noreth. She also had met some people, Moril and Mitt, who would have been her closest friends for life, had she not been sent back to her proper time. Maewen flushed thinking about Mitt, glad that no one was around to see her. Maewen found that she had fallen in love with him. The only problem was, he had lived 200 years ago. He was dead...or so she thought. Four years ago, she saw him, alive and well. He was one of the Undying, the immortal 'gods' of Dalemark. Wend was of the Undying too. He was also known as Osfameron, Tanamoril, Mage Mallard, and (for some reason unknown to her) Duck. Moril was a direct descendant of Wend...and so was she.
After she returned to the 'present', she took a great interest in her own genealogy. Before being sent back, she remembered that her father had told her that she was related to a Singer named Clennen. Clennen was Moril's father. Upon remembering, she frantically began to search for any clues linking her to Moril. She found them too. Once she knew what to look for, she successfully found old documents of birth records of her great-grandfather, which showed that he was born to a 'Osfameron Tanamoril Clennensson' and a 'Hildrilda Navissdaughter'. It was quite a shock to Maewen when she discovered this. She remembered Hildy as a stuck-up snob from the law school. She wondered what Moril had even seen in her. Moril was her great-great-grandfather, in a direct line. Also, in all her 'digging around', she managed to find the records that proved that the painting of the boy was indeed Moril. Now the label proudly displayed 'Osfameron Tanamoril'. She made sure that Moril was mentioned in history books, and was never forgotten in anything important. After all, Amil was mentioned almost wherever you went.
Back to the subject. Maewen had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday. Today, she was travelling to Dropwaite, to see Cennoreth. Maewen had been there many times before. She loved listening to Cennoreth's stories about Dalemark over the many years she had lived. She told her about all of the Undying in Dalemark, and how they were known in recent times. But today, Maewen was going for a different reason. Today, she was going to find out about Mitt. It had been four years since she had returned. Cennoreth promised that she would see Mitt when the time was ready. Well, Mitt told her four years. She glanced at the countryside as she passed. She chose to go on horseback to Dropwaite, though it was a several day trip. Today, she would arrive. She turned a corner, and Dropwater came into view. She soon saw the familiar river, with a broken-down house and mudhole on one bank. When she arrived, she got off the horse and led it to the back, where a broken fence post would do sufficiently to tie up the horse. Then, she walked right over to the front door, knocked, and said, "Cennoreth, Wend, it's me, Maewen." Instantly the whole surroundings changed. The broken down house became a quaint little cottage, the fence repaired itself, and Maewen's horse disappeared into a stable. The door opened. "Hello, Mayelbridwen," said Cennoreth, "I expect that you have come to see a certain someone?" A faint tinge appeared on Maewen's cheeks. She nodded. Cennoreth smiled, then led her inside. Sitting inside was Alhammitt, Libby Beer, Wend, and Tanamil. Maewen brightly greeted each one. She had gotten to know them well over the last four years. Though, she was disappointed when she didn't see Mitt. "Is Mitt...uh...Amil going to be coming?" She asked, uncertainly. "He's already here," said Alhammitt. Maewen looked around, confused. "Up here!" Said a voice. Flustered, Maewen looked up, and laughed. Mitt appeared to be sitting on the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. 'That's just the sort of thing he would do,' thought Maewen. Mitt jumped down. Before her, he appeared to be about twenty. Maewen was so happy to see him, that all she could do was run forward and give him a huge embrace. Mitt embraced her back, with a force equal to her own. When they pulled apart, Maewen looked at everyone once again. "But, why are you all here?" she asked. Cennoreth motioned for them to sit down. Suddenly her face looked very serious. "What we're about to tell you may come as a shock." Maewen looked puzzled. "We wanted to wait until you found out for yourself. But, the need has become too great. He's in greater danger than we realized." Wend jumped in, "To be one of the Undying means that you cannot die normally. You are free to do as you wish for all eternity, provided that it's for good, not evil. But, it's possible to be bound." Maewen remembered hearing King Hern use that term in reference to the Undying, but never knew what it meant. Tanamil jumped in, with great bitterness in his voice, "If a witch, or mage, gets a hold of a picture of you, an exact picture, they can use it to bind you to them, or a group of certain people. You can not directly go against them in any way. They seal you into a statue, a figurine. I was once bound to serve the King and his court, back in prehistoric Dalemark. I could not go against his wishes, even though I really wanted to marry Robin, his bride." Maewen spoke, "Yes, but, what does all this have to do with me?" Alhammitt started, "Moril is one of the Undying. He is the Teller. He wandered the country, bringing music and stories to places, telling people the History of Dalemark. With his cwidder, he could calm arguments and soothe rebellions. He was a great peace-maker." "But, I gave the cwidder to you," Maewen said to Wend, "And I still don't see how this relates to me." Mitt spoke next, "One day, right before I 'died', Moril disappeared. All that was left of him was his cwidder. The only thing I could think to do was put the cwidder on display next to his portrait, and send word 'round that Moril had died. We think his portrait had something to do with his disappearance. When it was discovered that Moril was of the Undying, Tanamoril altered the painting slightly, so it couldn't be used against Moril. Someone broke the spell, and Moril just vanished." Maewen was becoming very frustrated. She knew the Undying were famous for not telling you directly what they meant, but so far, she could not see how any of this related to her. "Yes, but, why are you telling me all this?" snapped Maewen, for what seemed the hundredth time, "None of this relates to me at all. Why are you giving me a history of Moril? Its not like I can say 'abracadabra' and make him appear again." Libby Beer, who had been silent up until now, spoke softly, "It matters, my dear, because you are one of the Undying."
*~^~*
Maewen sat, absorbing all the news. She thought back to when she gave Wend back the cwidder. Wend had seemed so reluctant to take it. He never told her it was because Moril was still alive. She went over to Wend. The other's had spread out. Mitt was talking to Alhammitt and Libby Beer, while Tanamil and Cennoreth were discussing some weaving on a rugcoat. "Wend, the cwidder..." she said, unsure of how to start. He seemed to read her mind, "The cwidder is no longer mine. I originally created it, yes, but Osfamoril used it for many years. His own power replaced mine, over time. I can no longer use the cwidder the way he can, but it still brings me great enjoyment to play it." Maewen sat, then she said, "What did you call Moril?" "By his name of course, little lady. We all have a name that we are known by, to each other: Cennoreth, Tanamil, Alhammitt, Libby Beer, Amil, and myself, Tanamoril. Obviously he couldn't be called Osfameron or Tanamoril, because those were both of my names in the past. He combined them, and came up with Osfamoril. And we will call you Mayelbridwen, because that is uniquely your name." Maewen nodded, it made sense. "Of course," continued Tanamoril, "we are still inclined to call each other by different names. Cennoreth's, my sister's, original name was Tanaqui, and I still call her that, as she will call me Duck, my original baby name. I see that you will always call Amil 'Mitt', and Osfamoril 'Moril'." Maewen looked a little soothed. (*ED: From now on, I will use their 'common' name, unless a character is speaking to another. It's less confusing*)
Tanamil and Cennoreth were hunched over a weaving, talking. "It's funny, I don't remember weaving that." said Cennoreth. Tanamil looked closely at the cloth, and said, "See here, it looks like you were trying to write about the One, but your thread slipped, and instead you wrote Amil." Cennoreth looked insulted, "I have not made a mistake in my weaving for about 200 years, and even then, that mistake turned out to be for the best. The One must be trying to tell us something, otherwise my thread wouldn't slip." "Perhaps you're right. He did give Amil his name. Maybe Amil is to be the next One. Your Grandfather relieved his burden to Amil, so it's possible he means to relieve his whole position," said Tanamil. Mayelbridwen walked up to them. "One thing I don't understand," she said, "is why you are telling me this now. Why could you not have waited a couple more years? After all, he's been gone over 100 years already." Cennoreth looked kindly at her, then answered, "The cwidder. The cwidder is directly connected to Osfamoril. You gave it to Tanamoril. One day, the cwidder started playing, all on it's own. Through it came a song, with Osfamoril singing. It was an old song, which told of how the One was bound. We took it as a sign. Someone bound Osfamoril. But the song allowed Libby Beer to get a holding on Osfamoril. She's been trying to locate him, but all we've found is that he's getting weaker, and that his 'signal' is growing further away. We need all the help we can get. Amil and Tanamil are both powerful mages. Libby Beer and I are powerful witches. Alhammitt and Tanamoril, along with being mages, can help us travel fast and stealthily on the Roads. I can weave to break the ties that are binding Osfamoril. And you, Mayelbridwen, should be a very powerful witch, once you are trained up. You're a seer. You can sense things, tell what's right or wrong, and know by instinct, where to go or what to do to find someone. You have the same gifts as my sister Robin did, and then some. We'll find a proper name for you later though. Now is not the time." Everything that Cennoreth had said made sense. She remembered small details about Moril, which enabled her to prove that she was related to them. She remembered that it had taken no time at all. She knew just where to look to find what she wanted. And it wasn't just with that. She was sure she could get anywhere in Dalemark, if she tried. And she also realized, with a jolt, that she could tell you exactly how many sugar cubes were in the dish, or how many ants were crawling on that leaf, even though she never looked once. (She inherited this from Moril. Remember, they are related.) Mayelbridwen thanked Cennoreth for explaining, and wandered off to find Amil. After all, the chief reason that she came was to talk to him.
She found Amil outside, sitting on a log by the bank of the river. She walked nervously up to him. "H-hello," Mayelbridwen said shyly. Amil turn around, with a smile on his face, "Hello, Maewen. Long time no see, huh?" Then he grinned that weird grin he always got when he was nervous. "I never thought I'd be seeing you again," said Mayelbridwen, "when I heard your voice that day in the tomb, so much happiness had ran through me. Then Wend told me what you said about the four-year thing, and I just laughed. It was so like you." Mayelbridwen stopped. She realized that she was babbling. "I've been watching you forever. I was there when you took your first step, said your first word, went to your first day of school, rode your first horse, took your first train ride alone. I watched you grow up. It was the hardest thing for me to keep away from you, but I didn't want to freak you out. I've... I mean I...oh Flaming Ammet! Why can't I just come out and say it?" Amil was looking flushed. Then he became serious and turned to Mayelbridwen, "I hope you don't think I'm crazy. I've had 200 years to dwell on it, but...I'm in love with you." Mayelbridwen was so happy that she literally pounced on Amil. "Mitt!" she exclaimed, "Mitt, oh, I've been so sure that I was in love with you too, only, "she faltered, "you were so much older...I thought...oh never mind!" Amil was delighted to see her so happy. Since she was practically strangling him, he took hold of her arms to pull her away, and as he did so, he kissed her. Then they turned to watch the sunset, arm in arm. They both knew that tomorrow would be the start of a dangerous journey. No one had ever decided on it, but it hung in the air, and all 7 of the Undying knew that tomorrow would be the start of their journey, to rescue a person who had been missing for more than 100 years.
*~^~*
Everything was packed. The sun had barely risen. The seven were prepared to start their journey. They would travel down the river by boat, until they reached the sea. They decided to start there. Cennoreth said something that sounded like 'soulnets', but Mayelbridwen didn't know what she was talking about. The boat ride was uneventful. It took about a day to get to the mouth of the river. Cennoreth sat, weaving the whole time. Libby Beer and Alhammitt were deep in discussion. Mayelbridwen began to suspect that the two of them were deeply in love; they were almost never apart. Tanamoril and Amil were bent over maps. Tanamil wandered over to Mayelbridwen. "Would you mind if I started training you to become a witch? You never know when your powers might be needed." Mayelbridwen agreed, she was eager to start learning. Tanamil reached over the sides of the boat and pulled some reeds. "I'm going to teach you the same way I taught Duck. We started with pipes to channel our 'powers' through." Mayelbridwen nodded. She was amazed to see that in the short time Tanamil had talked, he had already made a reed pipe and handed it to her. "We'll start with some fun, first," he said, "use the pipe to weave these reeds into a large net." Tanamil had grabbed a handful of reeds and placed them onto the deck of the boat. Mayelbridwen held her pipe to her mouth, and tentatively blew on the highest note. Suddenly every reed stood up on end, like it was planted in the boat. Tanamil laughed, "come on, you'll have to do better than that. Here, watch." He blew on his pipes. As he played, the roots started to move around, weaving in and out. Mayelbridwen noticed that he never used the lowest note on his pipes. Finally, when he seemed satisfied that all the reeds were in the correct place, he blew the lowest note. After about three seconds, he stopped. Mayelbridwen sat, astounded. In place of the reeds was a net, just perfect for fishing. "But... but...how will I ever remember which tune you played for that?" She said. " There is no tune. Blow whatever notes you want, (except for the lowest), while thinking 'reeds into net...reeds into net'. Blow on the lowest note to complete the spell. The pipe just channels your power. Soon you won't even need the pipe to make a net out of reeds. Now, try again." With a quick wave of his hand, the net turned back into reeds, lying on the deck. 'Here goes nothing,' she thought. She held her pipe to her mouth, and started blowing. It was no tune in particular, going high, then low, then high again. When she was satisfied, she blew the lowest note. She looked pleased. "All right. You've made a net that looks trustworthy. Now we shall test it." Suddenly the net hung in mid-air. If she fell, it would be right in the water. "Now, put yourself in the net," Tanamil said. She obliged. But, because of her poorly developed skills, she appeared a couple of inches above the net, and sort of "plopped" into it. She sat in the net for about 5 minutes. She enjoyed the feel of the wind in her face, while the net towed behind the boat. Suddenly, she heard a ripping sound. Next thing she knew, she was falling into the water. Tanamil brought her back to the deck. Everybody was laughing at her. She distinctly heard a "Flaming Ammet, that was brilliant," without a doubt of who it belonged to. She grinned weakly at everyone.
Over the next week, Tanamil had Mayelbridwen practice her magic everyday. Pretty soon she could do almost everything with a pipe. Tanamil now had her practicing without the flute, which was significantly harder.
On the seventh day of their journey, they came to the river's mouth. They stopped to camp over night. In the morning, the seven of them stood, looking out at the sea. "We'll go by the Wind's Road," said Alhammitt matter-of-factly, "It's the quickest way." The other's nodded in agreement. Suddenly seven horses appeared in the water. They mounted them, and, with Amil in the lead, they took off.
They traveled for many days, just straight out into the sea. Thanks to Libby Beer, they never went hungry. Mayelbridwen grew bored. Suddenly she noticed a black mist hanging out in the sea. Over the next few days she saw that the horses were riding towards the mist, but the mist kept changing positions. After two weeks, the group finally arrived. Right before they entered, warning bells went off in Mayelbridwen's head. She tried to tell them not to go in, but it was too late. She barely even got a word out before the mist engulfed them all.
~*~
Everyone stood up and looked around. Cennoreth, Tanamoril, and Tanamil gasped............
The Undying
~*~ Gomen, gomen gomen gomen gomen gomen!!!!!! It's been so long since I've posted anything on ff.net that I had forgotten how much they screw up the format of a story. I had to go back in a fix everything...it was such a bother, but now I finally have a READABLE story. It's incomplete as of now, but your reviews will greatly help me along in the process of writing this story. I live on reviews.... thrive on reviews....without them this story advances MUCH slower. So please, review the story, praise the story, flame the story, critique the story, just, REVIEW!! Not that I'm desperate or anything.... ^_^;; Ja ne~
~*~ For those of you who aren't anime freaks... 'gomen' means I'm sorry, and 'ja ne' means later1
~*~DISCLAIMER - I don't own the Dalemark Quartet, 'cuz if I did there'd be 10 books instead of 4.... This story is entirely my own idea.... any characters or names not mentioned in the original books are of my own creation....any similarities are purely coincidental....blah blah blah....
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"Tell her to make it four years, not two, to allow for inflation." The words still rang in her mind. Four years ago, Maewen had embarked on a journey that would change her life forever. Wend had sent her back in time, 200 years back; to find out what had happened to a young woman named Noreth. She also had met some people, Moril and Mitt, who would have been her closest friends for life, had she not been sent back to her proper time. Maewen flushed thinking about Mitt, glad that no one was around to see her. Maewen found that she had fallen in love with him. The only problem was, he had lived 200 years ago. He was dead...or so she thought. Four years ago, she saw him, alive and well. He was one of the Undying, the immortal 'gods' of Dalemark. Wend was of the Undying too. He was also known as Osfameron, Tanamoril, Mage Mallard, and (for some reason unknown to her) Duck. Moril was a direct descendant of Wend...and so was she.
After she returned to the 'present', she took a great interest in her own genealogy. Before being sent back, she remembered that her father had told her that she was related to a Singer named Clennen. Clennen was Moril's father. Upon remembering, she frantically began to search for any clues linking her to Moril. She found them too. Once she knew what to look for, she successfully found old documents of birth records of her great-grandfather, which showed that he was born to a 'Osfameron Tanamoril Clennensson' and a 'Hildrilda Navissdaughter'. It was quite a shock to Maewen when she discovered this. She remembered Hildy as a stuck-up snob from the law school. She wondered what Moril had even seen in her. Moril was her great-great-grandfather, in a direct line. Also, in all her 'digging around', she managed to find the records that proved that the painting of the boy was indeed Moril. Now the label proudly displayed 'Osfameron Tanamoril'. She made sure that Moril was mentioned in history books, and was never forgotten in anything important. After all, Amil was mentioned almost wherever you went.
Back to the subject. Maewen had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday. Today, she was travelling to Dropwaite, to see Cennoreth. Maewen had been there many times before. She loved listening to Cennoreth's stories about Dalemark over the many years she had lived. She told her about all of the Undying in Dalemark, and how they were known in recent times. But today, Maewen was going for a different reason. Today, she was going to find out about Mitt. It had been four years since she had returned. Cennoreth promised that she would see Mitt when the time was ready. Well, Mitt told her four years. She glanced at the countryside as she passed. She chose to go on horseback to Dropwaite, though it was a several day trip. Today, she would arrive. She turned a corner, and Dropwater came into view. She soon saw the familiar river, with a broken-down house and mudhole on one bank. When she arrived, she got off the horse and led it to the back, where a broken fence post would do sufficiently to tie up the horse. Then, she walked right over to the front door, knocked, and said, "Cennoreth, Wend, it's me, Maewen." Instantly the whole surroundings changed. The broken down house became a quaint little cottage, the fence repaired itself, and Maewen's horse disappeared into a stable. The door opened. "Hello, Mayelbridwen," said Cennoreth, "I expect that you have come to see a certain someone?" A faint tinge appeared on Maewen's cheeks. She nodded. Cennoreth smiled, then led her inside. Sitting inside was Alhammitt, Libby Beer, Wend, and Tanamil. Maewen brightly greeted each one. She had gotten to know them well over the last four years. Though, she was disappointed when she didn't see Mitt. "Is Mitt...uh...Amil going to be coming?" She asked, uncertainly. "He's already here," said Alhammitt. Maewen looked around, confused. "Up here!" Said a voice. Flustered, Maewen looked up, and laughed. Mitt appeared to be sitting on the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. 'That's just the sort of thing he would do,' thought Maewen. Mitt jumped down. Before her, he appeared to be about twenty. Maewen was so happy to see him, that all she could do was run forward and give him a huge embrace. Mitt embraced her back, with a force equal to her own. When they pulled apart, Maewen looked at everyone once again. "But, why are you all here?" she asked. Cennoreth motioned for them to sit down. Suddenly her face looked very serious. "What we're about to tell you may come as a shock." Maewen looked puzzled. "We wanted to wait until you found out for yourself. But, the need has become too great. He's in greater danger than we realized." Wend jumped in, "To be one of the Undying means that you cannot die normally. You are free to do as you wish for all eternity, provided that it's for good, not evil. But, it's possible to be bound." Maewen remembered hearing King Hern use that term in reference to the Undying, but never knew what it meant. Tanamil jumped in, with great bitterness in his voice, "If a witch, or mage, gets a hold of a picture of you, an exact picture, they can use it to bind you to them, or a group of certain people. You can not directly go against them in any way. They seal you into a statue, a figurine. I was once bound to serve the King and his court, back in prehistoric Dalemark. I could not go against his wishes, even though I really wanted to marry Robin, his bride." Maewen spoke, "Yes, but, what does all this have to do with me?" Alhammitt started, "Moril is one of the Undying. He is the Teller. He wandered the country, bringing music and stories to places, telling people the History of Dalemark. With his cwidder, he could calm arguments and soothe rebellions. He was a great peace-maker." "But, I gave the cwidder to you," Maewen said to Wend, "And I still don't see how this relates to me." Mitt spoke next, "One day, right before I 'died', Moril disappeared. All that was left of him was his cwidder. The only thing I could think to do was put the cwidder on display next to his portrait, and send word 'round that Moril had died. We think his portrait had something to do with his disappearance. When it was discovered that Moril was of the Undying, Tanamoril altered the painting slightly, so it couldn't be used against Moril. Someone broke the spell, and Moril just vanished." Maewen was becoming very frustrated. She knew the Undying were famous for not telling you directly what they meant, but so far, she could not see how any of this related to her. "Yes, but, why are you telling me all this?" snapped Maewen, for what seemed the hundredth time, "None of this relates to me at all. Why are you giving me a history of Moril? Its not like I can say 'abracadabra' and make him appear again." Libby Beer, who had been silent up until now, spoke softly, "It matters, my dear, because you are one of the Undying."
*~^~*
Maewen sat, absorbing all the news. She thought back to when she gave Wend back the cwidder. Wend had seemed so reluctant to take it. He never told her it was because Moril was still alive. She went over to Wend. The other's had spread out. Mitt was talking to Alhammitt and Libby Beer, while Tanamil and Cennoreth were discussing some weaving on a rugcoat. "Wend, the cwidder..." she said, unsure of how to start. He seemed to read her mind, "The cwidder is no longer mine. I originally created it, yes, but Osfamoril used it for many years. His own power replaced mine, over time. I can no longer use the cwidder the way he can, but it still brings me great enjoyment to play it." Maewen sat, then she said, "What did you call Moril?" "By his name of course, little lady. We all have a name that we are known by, to each other: Cennoreth, Tanamil, Alhammitt, Libby Beer, Amil, and myself, Tanamoril. Obviously he couldn't be called Osfameron or Tanamoril, because those were both of my names in the past. He combined them, and came up with Osfamoril. And we will call you Mayelbridwen, because that is uniquely your name." Maewen nodded, it made sense. "Of course," continued Tanamoril, "we are still inclined to call each other by different names. Cennoreth's, my sister's, original name was Tanaqui, and I still call her that, as she will call me Duck, my original baby name. I see that you will always call Amil 'Mitt', and Osfamoril 'Moril'." Maewen looked a little soothed. (*ED: From now on, I will use their 'common' name, unless a character is speaking to another. It's less confusing*)
Tanamil and Cennoreth were hunched over a weaving, talking. "It's funny, I don't remember weaving that." said Cennoreth. Tanamil looked closely at the cloth, and said, "See here, it looks like you were trying to write about the One, but your thread slipped, and instead you wrote Amil." Cennoreth looked insulted, "I have not made a mistake in my weaving for about 200 years, and even then, that mistake turned out to be for the best. The One must be trying to tell us something, otherwise my thread wouldn't slip." "Perhaps you're right. He did give Amil his name. Maybe Amil is to be the next One. Your Grandfather relieved his burden to Amil, so it's possible he means to relieve his whole position," said Tanamil. Mayelbridwen walked up to them. "One thing I don't understand," she said, "is why you are telling me this now. Why could you not have waited a couple more years? After all, he's been gone over 100 years already." Cennoreth looked kindly at her, then answered, "The cwidder. The cwidder is directly connected to Osfamoril. You gave it to Tanamoril. One day, the cwidder started playing, all on it's own. Through it came a song, with Osfamoril singing. It was an old song, which told of how the One was bound. We took it as a sign. Someone bound Osfamoril. But the song allowed Libby Beer to get a holding on Osfamoril. She's been trying to locate him, but all we've found is that he's getting weaker, and that his 'signal' is growing further away. We need all the help we can get. Amil and Tanamil are both powerful mages. Libby Beer and I are powerful witches. Alhammitt and Tanamoril, along with being mages, can help us travel fast and stealthily on the Roads. I can weave to break the ties that are binding Osfamoril. And you, Mayelbridwen, should be a very powerful witch, once you are trained up. You're a seer. You can sense things, tell what's right or wrong, and know by instinct, where to go or what to do to find someone. You have the same gifts as my sister Robin did, and then some. We'll find a proper name for you later though. Now is not the time." Everything that Cennoreth had said made sense. She remembered small details about Moril, which enabled her to prove that she was related to them. She remembered that it had taken no time at all. She knew just where to look to find what she wanted. And it wasn't just with that. She was sure she could get anywhere in Dalemark, if she tried. And she also realized, with a jolt, that she could tell you exactly how many sugar cubes were in the dish, or how many ants were crawling on that leaf, even though she never looked once. (She inherited this from Moril. Remember, they are related.) Mayelbridwen thanked Cennoreth for explaining, and wandered off to find Amil. After all, the chief reason that she came was to talk to him.
She found Amil outside, sitting on a log by the bank of the river. She walked nervously up to him. "H-hello," Mayelbridwen said shyly. Amil turn around, with a smile on his face, "Hello, Maewen. Long time no see, huh?" Then he grinned that weird grin he always got when he was nervous. "I never thought I'd be seeing you again," said Mayelbridwen, "when I heard your voice that day in the tomb, so much happiness had ran through me. Then Wend told me what you said about the four-year thing, and I just laughed. It was so like you." Mayelbridwen stopped. She realized that she was babbling. "I've been watching you forever. I was there when you took your first step, said your first word, went to your first day of school, rode your first horse, took your first train ride alone. I watched you grow up. It was the hardest thing for me to keep away from you, but I didn't want to freak you out. I've... I mean I...oh Flaming Ammet! Why can't I just come out and say it?" Amil was looking flushed. Then he became serious and turned to Mayelbridwen, "I hope you don't think I'm crazy. I've had 200 years to dwell on it, but...I'm in love with you." Mayelbridwen was so happy that she literally pounced on Amil. "Mitt!" she exclaimed, "Mitt, oh, I've been so sure that I was in love with you too, only, "she faltered, "you were so much older...I thought...oh never mind!" Amil was delighted to see her so happy. Since she was practically strangling him, he took hold of her arms to pull her away, and as he did so, he kissed her. Then they turned to watch the sunset, arm in arm. They both knew that tomorrow would be the start of a dangerous journey. No one had ever decided on it, but it hung in the air, and all 7 of the Undying knew that tomorrow would be the start of their journey, to rescue a person who had been missing for more than 100 years.
*~^~*
Everything was packed. The sun had barely risen. The seven were prepared to start their journey. They would travel down the river by boat, until they reached the sea. They decided to start there. Cennoreth said something that sounded like 'soulnets', but Mayelbridwen didn't know what she was talking about. The boat ride was uneventful. It took about a day to get to the mouth of the river. Cennoreth sat, weaving the whole time. Libby Beer and Alhammitt were deep in discussion. Mayelbridwen began to suspect that the two of them were deeply in love; they were almost never apart. Tanamoril and Amil were bent over maps. Tanamil wandered over to Mayelbridwen. "Would you mind if I started training you to become a witch? You never know when your powers might be needed." Mayelbridwen agreed, she was eager to start learning. Tanamil reached over the sides of the boat and pulled some reeds. "I'm going to teach you the same way I taught Duck. We started with pipes to channel our 'powers' through." Mayelbridwen nodded. She was amazed to see that in the short time Tanamil had talked, he had already made a reed pipe and handed it to her. "We'll start with some fun, first," he said, "use the pipe to weave these reeds into a large net." Tanamil had grabbed a handful of reeds and placed them onto the deck of the boat. Mayelbridwen held her pipe to her mouth, and tentatively blew on the highest note. Suddenly every reed stood up on end, like it was planted in the boat. Tanamil laughed, "come on, you'll have to do better than that. Here, watch." He blew on his pipes. As he played, the roots started to move around, weaving in and out. Mayelbridwen noticed that he never used the lowest note on his pipes. Finally, when he seemed satisfied that all the reeds were in the correct place, he blew the lowest note. After about three seconds, he stopped. Mayelbridwen sat, astounded. In place of the reeds was a net, just perfect for fishing. "But... but...how will I ever remember which tune you played for that?" She said. " There is no tune. Blow whatever notes you want, (except for the lowest), while thinking 'reeds into net...reeds into net'. Blow on the lowest note to complete the spell. The pipe just channels your power. Soon you won't even need the pipe to make a net out of reeds. Now, try again." With a quick wave of his hand, the net turned back into reeds, lying on the deck. 'Here goes nothing,' she thought. She held her pipe to her mouth, and started blowing. It was no tune in particular, going high, then low, then high again. When she was satisfied, she blew the lowest note. She looked pleased. "All right. You've made a net that looks trustworthy. Now we shall test it." Suddenly the net hung in mid-air. If she fell, it would be right in the water. "Now, put yourself in the net," Tanamil said. She obliged. But, because of her poorly developed skills, she appeared a couple of inches above the net, and sort of "plopped" into it. She sat in the net for about 5 minutes. She enjoyed the feel of the wind in her face, while the net towed behind the boat. Suddenly, she heard a ripping sound. Next thing she knew, she was falling into the water. Tanamil brought her back to the deck. Everybody was laughing at her. She distinctly heard a "Flaming Ammet, that was brilliant," without a doubt of who it belonged to. She grinned weakly at everyone.
Over the next week, Tanamil had Mayelbridwen practice her magic everyday. Pretty soon she could do almost everything with a pipe. Tanamil now had her practicing without the flute, which was significantly harder.
On the seventh day of their journey, they came to the river's mouth. They stopped to camp over night. In the morning, the seven of them stood, looking out at the sea. "We'll go by the Wind's Road," said Alhammitt matter-of-factly, "It's the quickest way." The other's nodded in agreement. Suddenly seven horses appeared in the water. They mounted them, and, with Amil in the lead, they took off.
They traveled for many days, just straight out into the sea. Thanks to Libby Beer, they never went hungry. Mayelbridwen grew bored. Suddenly she noticed a black mist hanging out in the sea. Over the next few days she saw that the horses were riding towards the mist, but the mist kept changing positions. After two weeks, the group finally arrived. Right before they entered, warning bells went off in Mayelbridwen's head. She tried to tell them not to go in, but it was too late. She barely even got a word out before the mist engulfed them all.
~*~
Everyone stood up and looked around. Cennoreth, Tanamoril, and Tanamil gasped............
