Chapter Seventeen, The Triall-Maranwe

We sat, and after Dusk delved into his second favorite pastime, food, Ooro related to us his tale…

"…Members of our tribe, you included, Umbra, reach a point in their lives when their color is revealed to them. This color then becomes part of their aura, their spirit, and is carried with them for the rest of their days, whether they choose to accept it or not." Ooro said, elaborating on my previous ceremony, though I believe he was remembering his at this time, "Soon thereafter, that person then partakes in a "triall-maranwe ', or destiny-walk, as it's commonly called."

"A sort of quest?" I asked, intrigued by this notion, this right of passage, as it were.

"Yes, it could be called that. Usually, each is different, reflecting the nature of the person undertaking the task. Every member of our tribe who carries a color has undertaken the triall-maranwe, everyone, that is, save you, though your time draws near." Ooro explained. "It was during this time in my life that I met your grandfather," Ooro said, and after looking at me for a few moments, continued, "and he could not have been much older than you are now, though with his upbringing, I feel he was much more angry at the world than you seem to be."

Ooro paused, letting me dwell on this for a moment, before continuing, "And I met him not here, in the wilds of my homeland, but like Dusk, we met under the burning Sun of Sharapuur, where the stinging desert winds whip their way across the land."

"Your grandfather, perhaps a year or two older than you, though it is hard for me as an elf to say, was living in what was at the time the Kingdom of Sauvin. A goodly King, as I recall, though fatally misguided. You have heard the tales, yes?" Ooro asked, and I simply nodded.

"Yes, well, he wasn't the most memorable of Kings, but he did what he thought was right by his people. His Queen died in childbirth, bearing his only daughter, the beautiful Princess Orowina." Ooro chuckled at this, and said, "Well, at least her name held merit." he said, obviously referring to the similarity in his name and hers.

"At any rate, your grandfather was completely smitten by her, from the day he saw her in a parade, with her long Raven black hair."

At this, Kooraw, who had been quiet until now, started chirping quietly to himself, as though happy with the remark. I smiled and looked up to him as Ooro continued.

"She was much the same age as him at the time, as I recall," Ooro related, "and from that day forward, your Grandfather made it his business to become powerful enough to draw her attention."

"Why did I meet your Grandfather? You may ask. Well, the reason is simple, really, I needed to purchase a new dagger, as I had just broken mine on a rock fighting one of those damndable piranha-lizards that roam the deserts in packs, and your Grandfather was already renown throughout the region as the best dagger maker in the area." Ooro looked at my dagger after this and said, "And I see his heritage has carried on with you."

It was true that I had studied my Grandfather's journals in my spare time, at least, those that I took with me, and one of those included the making of various types of daggers. Though I felt that my skills reached no where near the quality of those like the Fang dagger I found under my Grandfather's floorboards.

"Nah, this one is one of his, and the one next to it is mine, you can see I still have much to learn." I said to Ooro, holding each of them out hilt-first that he might inspect them. Dusk took a sudden interest in the conversation at this point, and stood up to take his turn holding them after Ooro had held each.

"I don't believe you give yourself enough credit, Umbra, yours is just as fine, if completely different. You merely have a different style, is all." Ooro complimented my work, and Dusk also nodded his assent.

Though I disagreed, having never felt on the same level as my Grandfather, I remained quiet at this, and merely shrugged. Dusk then returned my daggers to me, and Ooro continued.

"As I said, he was one of the best dagger makers around, and after meeting him, I felt that my triall-maranwe had something to do with him." Ooro explained. "So, I made it a habit to "stick around a while", as I've heard it called, if only to share your Grandfather's company and to see if I couldn't figure out this strange human somewhat.

"It wasn't long after that when fate found us, rather than us finding it." Ooro said cryptically.