Retracing the Lines

North-eastern tip of the Sea of Rhun, 4th Age 9

A mild breeze blew across the empty shore of the smooth, calm sea. The water was still at the moment, at low tide, and the air was flickering over the wide beach. At the horizon thick white-grey clouds gathered, towering higher and higher and adding to themselves slowly as the midday-heat increased.

A gold-reddish wolf trotted along the water's edge alone in a leisurely fashion.

Occasionally a higher wave lapped up and the water splashed around his paws, obliterating the regular tracks he left in the smooth sand. After a considerable distance the wolf reached a point where the dunes drew close to the water's edge and a deep-cut pool stretched between them and the sea proper.

The wolf slowed and threaded a careful path along the edge of the steeply falling sides of the pool. The water seemed to be deep blue, but when he stood at the right angle, it was almost crystal clear and he could see to the bottom. Small fish flitted through the water and crabs scuttled over the sandy ground.

Everything had its particular scent. Yet by the sea, there was only salty sea-smell. Everything smelled and tasted of the sea, and things underwater had no scent at all. They were visible, but had no scent. Therefore hardly interesting at the moment. He was not a good fisher, and salt-water stung eyes and nose.

The wolf turned away, and trotted back into the direction he had come, leaving the pool behind and sometimes re-crossing his own tracks where the water had not yet lapped over them and smoothed them away.

There was no water by the sea, none to drink, that is. River had learned that painfully the first time he come down here and tried to drink from the sea. Wave-water tasted vile, even to a wolf who was not picky about tastes.

River had learned that by trial and error. The golden had known, for reasons too ancient to be recalled. Sea-water was salty. That was a truth as old as the fact that stars glittered in the night.

- Sometimes it was frightening, strange, how easily one could lose oneself to unconcerned existence -

Even though the sea washed this shore continually, wet his pelt, smelled of brine – its power was confined to that. To time and wind.

He crossed back over the dunes and made for the coastal forest. The scents changed here, became more, and sharper defined. The grassland and the woodland smelled rich and spicy. A thousand more sounds were here, away from the waves, the wind, and the rushing of sand.

It was so easy –

In a wide hollow under the oaks and pines making up the greatest part of this forest wolf-clan camped. In a number of scattered smaller hollows single members, pairs and families had made their private lairs. By scent, each of these was a fixed possession to its owners, a boundary which no one of wolf-clan would overstep without reason or invitation.

A group returned from hunting small prey, and several wolves carried their catches. A midnight black and a grey separated from the pack and came over to the golden. The black held a large hare in his fangs. He dropped it when he reached him, snarling a warning at the grey who sniffed greedily. The black's ears flattened and he bared his fangs, flaring his ruff and raising his tail. Mine everything about him said.

The grey looked away, but was not daunted into fleeing. In absence of the golden he would have taken the hare. After all, he was the pack leader and outranked the black.

The hare was fresh, warm still, and despite the neat bite through the spine the scent of blood rose intensely from the prey. The easiness of the moment shivered slightly, but the golden held on.

This was nothing new.

The black retreated a little, surrendering his prey to the golden.

The golden lowered his head and picked the hare up, holding it gingerly in his fangs. The three trotted along the edge of the hollow, making for their own lair. Held only gingerly, the hare started to slip from the golden's fangs. He snarled in irritation, lowered his head to brace the hare against the ground and renew his hold.

Tighter.

His fangs pierced the skin.

Hold on.

Nothing new.

They reached the hollow and the golden dropped the hare to the ground. The grey looked hopeful. The black growled, and the golden flattened his ears back in warning. The grey gave a small wolfish sigh and arranged himself comfortably for a nap. If there was no food yet, he could sleep without missing out important things. The black looked up at the golden, a sly look in his eyes.

The hare lay between them.

Gildor's POV

'We start with rabbit, and continue with mice. The other way round as wolf-cubs learn'

This way, or that.

It was easy to be wolf, to be wolf alone. Harder to be changer.

But that was absurd.

'Raven, sometimes I think I hate you'

Raven would have laughed. The black swished his tail 'Change with me'

In the night, a thunderstorm passed.

At first, the sky only lit up with lightning, and no thunder came.

The effect was ghostly.

Not for the wolf, of course. But Unfurred shivered.

The shadow of thunder. This was shina'a'sha, the shadow-path. Walking the wind, not returning.

Later, the real thunderstorm came, and lightning was followed by thunder the way it should be. Lying flat on the sandy ground, one could feel the thunder march the land, vibrate the earth. This, too, was shina'a'sha, the thunder-road. Fully alive, aware of everything on the land and of the land itself.

So the Ashi'kha said.

The storm passed near, but no rain fell and only the scent of it wafted through the forest. Low-tide had passed, and beyond the dunes the sea roared once more.

The weather did not change. All the next day a new set of clouds built up and roiled in the sky. Swallows sailed low over the treetops, and the air flickered in the midday sun. The scent of pine resin wafted through the coast forest and the sound of cones popping open in the glaring sun was ever-present. Wolf Clan lay sprawled in the shadow of the gnarled pines, talking softly, dozing, or sound asleep.

Raven was one of the few sound sleepers, which I found quite amazing. The tension of a coming storm seemed to keep even the sea breathless. Usually such days sent him wandering and pacing and looking up at the sky to watch the clouds form. Today, the two of us had shifted places.

The heat was incredible. The last time there had been such a hot day I remembered we had been in Wolf Clan's forest territory. It had been a day like this when I had found out what Nightchaser had meant with ashi'khair.

I went down to the beach and walked along the still sea. It was late afternoon and the water felt tepid. I considered swimming further out, where the water would be deeper and colder, but then continued along the shoreline. Not even River ventured out of the shadow today.

The relentless sun burned my skin red in no time and I returned to the forest, looking for some shade and Raven. I found him in a pile with River and another wolf, curled up in a small dell that was filled with brown pine needles and still asleep. So much for that company. I settled down at the foot of the pine standing over the dell. The wolf sometimes made it easy to forget, to ignore. But sometimes, he also made it hard to recall things. Memories generally returned unbidden. The oldest ones seemed so remote and strange - so strange, I wondered if it had been me then. Or if I was really here now.

"How do you call yourself?" Shand'rel had asked in Lorien. A good question. How good, I realized only now. Nok'ashi and Kil'tor had become part of me as much as I was Caltor of the rhevain, and even still Gildor son of Inglor.

Sometimes, for long periods, I forgot the name. Which was somehow frightening. It was, after all, my own name.

But I had not named it then, nor when Raven and I had been alone.

Evening came slowly and the cloud towers still hung threatening in the sky. The wind picked up as the sun disappeared and the breeze brought wonderful refreshment. Most members of Wolf Clan came alive with the cool darkness. Raven stretched and shoved River off his back where the wolf had been gnawing at him for some time, trying to get him awake enough for a play. He blinked at me sleepily and turned the wolf in my direction, giving him a shove "There. Go there, he is awake"

River bounded on me out of the dell, and I ducked, avoiding him "Go hunt" I said "That's a better idea"

"Wonderful mood you are in, are you?" Raven climbed out of the dell, shaking off pine needles and glancing after River who took off into the darkling forest, unfazed by our unwillingness to play.

"I'm not"

"In a wonderful mood, yes, so I see. What's up?"

"I don't know. What's up with you? That's your weather, isn't it? And all you do is sleep"

Raven made a deprecating gesture "Cursed heat"

"Shadow-skulker"

He eyed my reddened skin "Roast-meat. Speaking of which – let's go eat something"

"Are you hungry!"

"Of course. And they were hunting today, and someone found mushrooms, and berries, and whatnot" Raven ushered me forward.

"I thought you were asleep. How do you know?"

"I have my sources. Come on now"

On the way to the camp's centre Raven swerved to pass a part of the forest where leafy trees grew. They were a kind of chestnut, but different from the ones I knew. Their fruits were not only remotely edible but even tasted good. Raven climbed into the thick-limbed trees easily, dropping the green, thick-shelled fruits to the ground.

"You know, as a wolf you should not be able to climb that well" I said when he got to the tree's crown and stretched out, fishing for nuts on the branches that were too thin to carry him. Raven laughed and disappeared in the yellowing foliage, coming down in a small shower of bark and moss. He crouched on the lowest branch and dropped a last handful of nuts into my hands.

"But I am no wolf" he said, looking down at me.

"Not now. More of a squirrel"

"Except I don't have hairs on my tail"

I burst out laughing. Raven grinned briefly but added "No. I mean, I am not a wolf at all. Not really" he swung off the branch "Nightchaser maybe. K'ashi. But not I"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I fear death" Raven said quietly "No wolf does that. No wolf cares. Not the way I do. That is why. Come on, they have a fire tonight"

There was meat, mushrooms, berries, and indeed a small fire. Raven tossed his chestnuts into the still gleaming ashes for roasting. The heat had cooped the whole clan up in the forest, and so all had gathered for an impromptu feast tonight. After a while, with the meal finished and the last nuts peeled had eaten, members drifted off to hunt separately, scour the forest or indulge in whatever activities they fancied.

"Listen"

"Hm" I looked up at the sky, which was dark and starless. Thunder rumbled, only barely audible above the sound of the sea "There's no lightning"

"Not yet" Raven arranged himself comfortably on the ground "Soon enough"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a nap"

"Again!"

"Still"

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing. You don't want me to sleep, then tell me what's up with you"

"I don't know. Just the weather, I suppose"

"Just the weather" Raven repeated unbelieving, glancing up at me "Sure"

I said nothing. What should I say anyway? All day long, the answer had avoided me, as had the question. Raven had changed, changed rapidly in a way since we had come from friends to lovers, and even more since ashi'khair. The wind picked up even more, carrying the sound of thunder clearly now. Leaves and needles rustled. As in the previous night, lightning now flashed across the sky, bright yellow and white, throwing the otherwise invisible pattern of the clouds into stark relief in ominous silence.

With the wolf to lead him, Raven faced insights or truths easily that I ran from my entire life. I had once suspected that he hid behind his chosen name of Raven rather than revealing his given, true name. I was right, but it had been a long while until I had admitted to myself that I did little else. At least to him, though maybe in a little different terms. The Ashi'kha had no concept of 'mother-names' which could be kept secret for a whole life. To him, I could or maybe should have revealed my mother-name as he had given me his true name. But as little as Calathaura seemed to fit I had not thought of it then.

Long ago, and so far away, this old, first name had seemed out of place, wrongly given. No storms raged over the old city, where the trees had stood. This was the heart of the realm, and it was protected. Wild, unrestrained storms full of lighting, thunder and rain did not cross the skies over the city. They were a tale of Middle-earth, of the wild lands and the other shore. Of the dark we had left behind. It was a name out of place in the soft glow of the trees.

I had not thought much about it back in Valinor. Maybe in giving that name my mother had foreseen what would happen. It was, in the end, a name that referred to the foreboding itself. I had never spoken of it, neither to Glorfindel nor to Raven. I did not think about that time, my childhood. It was so far away in both time and space that the memories did not seem to be my own anymore.

Silmarusse had liked it of course. Yes, of course.

Silmarusse. I would have loved to hear what she had to say to this all. Only she had known that name because in my heart I had always felt it was indeed my real name. Too revealing therefore. After the ceremony, the rebellion, and finally the Ice and the rough years in Middle-earth that name had sealed itself to me. Still few others even knew it. And though I had never taken another use-name Calathaura had always seemed to make fun of me. I had never lived up to it.

Unlike yesterday, the tension seemed to coil up inside me, making me feel like I was going to burst. Something about the silence of the night, broken only by the rustle of wind in the leaves and the far thunder unsettled me.

I should go down to the beach for a while, I thought. Only when Raven looked away from the sky he had been watching and glanced at me in puzzlement I realized I had spoken aloud.

"Should be a great sight down there. Whatever you're looking for, see you don't get enlightened in a flash"

Enlightened in a flash, fried by flames - the different Ashi'kha codes made a nice word-play of this. I smiled wryly and got up, but then turned back to him "Raven…Kela'shin, I should have said this earlier. I – my name is Ulyalinde"

I did not wait, but almost fled down to the shore.

Raven had been right about the view. Lighting was reflected by the sea, and the rumbling thunder flowed into the sound of the waves. Absurdly, the coming storm seemed to draw land and sky together into a motionless world, and only the wind was still moving.

I sat down with the dunes at my back and closed my eyes for a moment. I should have stayed with Raven. Or asked him along. I knew he would not come, not now. The really disturbing thing was that I sometimes forgot the name. Did not only not think about it, but had clean forgotten it.

The wolf had recalled it.

The day had recalled it.

Something like that might happen, Elrond had speculated. Maybe that was an aspect of fading. One that could not be halted by anything, not even the wolf.

And yet, the wolf had reminded me. In so far as I could claim being a wolf.

The Ashi'kha moved noiselessly. It was general rule to announce one's approach either by politely making some noise or by a brief mental touch. I would have expected Raven, but it was Nightchaser who had made his way down to the beach. He was unfurred, and wore an immaculate loincloth into which he had stuck his knife.

"A good night" the shaman said with a non-committal inflection, surveying the spectacle out over the sea. I glanced up at Nightchaser who politely remained standing, waiting for me to return either a ritual rejection or confirmation of his unspoken request. That was standard procedure. An Ashi'kha would approach another with a neutral statement and wait for his clan-mate's reply. I had come to appreciate this testing of emotional ground, which allowed both parties to keep face and dignity and avoided unwanted conversations for politeness' sake. It was fascinating how fine the shadings of 'distance' could be within the clan. Ashi'kha ritual for advanced learners.

"It is. Join me, Nightchaser" I said, at once confirming the shaman's request and settling whatever conversation would follow on the level of friends. Nightchaser crouched down beside me, resting comfortably on his haunches "A good night" he repeated "for watching and lazing. The whole clan is gathered under the pines"

Unspoken question. It was late, I realized. The clan would have finished their separate hunts and returned to the glade. The thunderstorm was coming closer only slowly, the shifting winds preventing the clouds from coming straight on towards the land. I had been here longer than I had thought.

"I am not in the mood for much company"

"So Raven noticed. Do not feel obliged to tolerate my meddling company"

I smiled "I have no objection to your presence, but do not attempt meddling"

"Are you willing to talk then?"

"Depends on what you call talk"

"Ah, I can hear Raven. You have learned from the best"

"Yes"

"Will you tell me what bothers you so much? It can't be the weather"

"You have talked to Raven"

Nightchaser laughed "No. Did you try to tell him that?"

"No" I smiled back weakly "At least I did not mean it, and he won't have believed anyway"

"No. What is it then? You are worried about something"

"Nightchaser, what do the old songs say about…about ashi'khair and what happens afterwards?"

"Ah" Nightchaser shifted slightly "A lot. But I cannot give you a straight answer if you don't ask a straight question"

I spread my arms "How could I ask for solutions if I don't know the problems?"

"You are worried, deeply, and you said nothing to Raven"

"He has got nothing to do with that. I…Nahar's balls, shaman, I don't know what is happening! I am wolf, and yet I am not. Sometimes it is like my fur isn't my own, and then I forget my own name!"

I stopped. I had not meant to tell the shaman that. It seemed too…absurd. Nightchaser considered that for a while. "I take it by 'my own name' you do not mean either Gildor or Nokashi"

"No" I stuck my knuckles into my eyes. Sometimes the whole thing seemed just too immense. I had dreamed with the wolf in the beginning, then of wolves, now I dreamed as wolf.

"Sometimes it feels like I am…losing myself. In the wolf. I mean, it should not be possible, should it? It is not what I might become as a…wolf that I fear. It is what I might leave behind. And I know, and you said it, that I do not have a wolf's mind. It is…I have never thought much about my true name, sometimes not for years on end. But today…it felt like I clean forgot it. That is…frightening, Nightchaser"

The shaman toyed with a handful of sand. When he spoke, it was carefully, picking his Quenya phrasing with care.

"What I think, Gildor of Rivendell and Wolf Clan, is this: you do not know your own power, your own skill. No one before you, none of Khai'toh has walked this path. You did not only soulbind with Raven, who is the strongest changer wolf clan has ever known, even in the starlit dark. You were also willing to accept the wolf wholly, and make him a part of you. You strive to leave all that behind which makes you Khai'toh in our eyes, and try to become one of us. You think it does not work really. I think it works just fine. Maybe even a bit more than you ever bargained for. The old songs cannot take into account Khai'toh, those who went West and returned. So I think there will be no help in them. Someone Outclan could never change so completely and strongly as you, could never gain the mindset of a wolf. His transformation would always be a purely physical one, and all else would be training. As I guessed in the beginning, and as I told you. But you have not only shared the wolf with Raven perforce, you have done it willingly, even before you were bound. And you two are so close that I think it is possible for you to draw on him, the wolf's mind itself, to find your own.

You fear to lose yourself. I think that is not possible. Everything about…let me call it furring, takes conscious decision. You must will the change, even when you change as easily as Raven. To lose yourself in the wolf, your wolf part, forever or completely will take your conscious decision as well"

"But I wanted it" I said softly "I want to be wolf. I…fear it slips my control and I could not…find back. It was only Raven dropping a dead hare on my feet that I realized…Raven said once he could choose the wolf completely"

"But you do not want to be wolf forever, do you?" Nightchaser put in "As long as you do not will it permanently, it is not that the wolf could prevent you from returning to the other part of your awareness. As long as you don't will it to be forever there will be hundreds of little things to remind you. And it need not be mangled hares, simple emotions and doubts suffice. But tell me why you connect it with your name, and what it means"

"My p-…the Eldar do not have binding clan names, but we are given mother-names. They are…given with knowledge. They are bound to the bearer. I…was not happy with my mother-name in the beginning. I have no real connection with it, that is, I think, in terms of it binding me. It followed me all my life like a curse, but then I think only that name is me. Not Calathaura, not Nok'ashi. But today…it suddenly felt like I had lost it completely for a while – only when the…this thunderstorm came up it was all back somehow" I shook my head "I'm sorry Nightchaser, this sounds so incredibly silly"

Nightchaser smiled slightly "First of all, nothing sounds silly to shaman. Second, this does not sound silly. But once again you must forgive me when I say I think you are mistaken. I am a mind-healer. And I know that people can forget and be made to forget a lot, and forget wholly. Their names as well, but never their true names. You cannot lose your name and subsequently yourself to the wolf without consciously giving all ties to the other world up forever and completely. And even if you, as not a born changer, could stumble deeper into the wolf's mind than you intend, still it would not be possible for you to get lost. Your fea is bound to Raven's – he at least could always call you back…Our clan-names are private, and personal, but not a secret. We do not tell just anyone, and never our enemies, but they are clan-names"

"I do not consider it secret either. It belongs to me. But I have always felt its darkness followed me. Or maybe I should rather say my life followed the course my mother foresaw when she named me Ulyalinde"

"I do not know Quenya well enough to translate that. What does it mean?"

"Song of the rain" I said "You might be able to imagine that this was… somehow out of place in a place like Valinor at the time I was born"

"No" Nightchaser smiled "I cannot, really. But I think I know what you mean, though. It did not only bother those who knew, but also you when you were old enough to see the whole picture. Yet, when you thought you had forgotten it somehow, it bothered you as well"

"It is a part of me. Of course it would bother me"

"Yes, and when it is gone, you feel it missing. That is the difference. You know it is part of you, and you want to remain so"

"It is my true name. I could not shake it off"

Nightchaser cocked his head slightly "Would you want to?"

"No" I said after a while "I have only ever been Ulyalinde. I…very long ago I was told that it was a name of…of Middle-earth. Not of Valinor"

"And here you are"

I glanced at Nightchaser "And here I will remain"

He gave a small sigh "My people say, as everyone has several sides so every name has several facets. Kela'shin, Raven will have told you, refers to the rising storm, the beauty and alive-ness of such things. But it also contains weakness, in that the storm blows itself out, and the negative aspect of vicious and not necessarily rightful destruction. My own name, hunts-in-the-night, you can peel into different layers. It refers to my ability of dreaming and seeing, and since I have become shaman, I use my soul-name as clan-name as well. It is a good name because it is true in saying I am a fine hunter in darkness. But it also says I may be chasing shadows, and as khai'noch spend a great deal floundering in darkness and finding little to bring to the light. It did not mean that until the Nighteater came - it now contains the distinction of day and night, and implies a revealing quality of light. But you know Nightchaser is Onakir in my language, and ir means not the night that precedes day – that night is han - but the darkness under the stars in the very beginning. The old meaning of my name then could also be hunts-for-the-night, and indeed I am doing that a great deal. All the really old songs refer to the time when there was no brightness except stars, and just as we cannot translate the ancient names anymore, we lose more and more of the ancient songs. For us, it is hard to keep words alive for something that no longer exists. At least not in so far as we use language. And no name encompasses all that the person is" Nightchaser paused "You are Calathaura as much as Kil'thor, Nokashi and Ulyalinde. If you felt the dark and foreboding in your name long ago, has it not now led you here, where you belong, as you said? And as Ashi'kha I will also think of the beauty and the scent of rain, of rain glittering in the sun, falling at night, and that I would know how after long heat everything rejoices at the whisper of rain on the wind. I wonder that you did not yet see how much that name is…truly yours"

I frowned "What do you mean? I do not speak Ashi'kha well enough to read between lines in your ancient codes"

"It is not about codes" Nightchaser said "But now that you say it, it even fits into our old words. Indeed…"

"Would you mind enlightening me?" I asked amusedly after a while when Nightchaser did not continue.

"Of course I wouldn't, it is my business, you know" the shaman laughed softly "Just tell me - both rain and wind are included in 'ulya', right?"

I nodded.

"What kind of wind? I mean, Ashi'kha distinguishes between several kinds of wind, and especially between wind in leaves and wind in bare branches. Which kind of wind do you think would be the most appropriate?"

"I…am not sure. The name implies far thunder as well…thunderstorms in winter are of the sudden and short sort I guess, without much wind as preamble. So maybe it would be 'wind in leaves' rather. Yes…there were no bare branches in Valinor at that time, coming to think of it"

Nightchaser nodded slowly. "In the old songs 'wind in leaves' goes together with rain, while 'wind in bare branches' comes with snow. The sound it makes we call 'whisper' or 'song' in both cases. Literally, it is both 'fleeting shadow' and 'vanishing trace', rel or rella in ancient Ashi'kha. Because words are fleeting, and leave no trace of their passing, except in the mind that remembers them. Now, rel simply means song, but it used to contain the implication of passing by like wind or shadow.

You know we count three seasons to summer and winter each. Your name belongs to the three seasons of summer, referring to wind in leaves that carries far thunder. Kest'rel it would be in Ashi'kha, meaning just the same as your mother name – Rainsong. Had you said the wind was a winter wind, it would have translated as Shand'rel, Snowsong. Can you see where I am going? Where this 'weather' has led us? Rainsong – Rising Storm?"

I stared at the shaman for a moment. This was too absurd indeed! I flopped back on to the sand, looking up at the roiling clouds and shaking my head. Didn't Raven have a similar realization some time ago? With Niy'ashi's and his own song?

Similar yes, but less pleasant.

"It is the same, isn't it, shaman? Our names essentially mean the same. Or refer to similar things, at least"

"Yes" Nightchaser laughed softly and got up, holding out his hand to pull me up as well "Of course a night like this would make think of it. Oh I would have loved to figure that out earlier! If that isn't a shaman's riddle!"

"Maybe I would have figured it out earlier then" I said darkly as we went slowly through the dunes. The low pine forest was black in the night, highlighted in bright outline occasionally with the more spectacular flashes of lightning "You see how little I thought about that name? I didn't even recognize it when it jumped on me and bit my ass!"

Nightchaser laughed "Do you mean that literally? In the form of a black wolf?"

'

I took a deep breath. I remembered nights like this, uncounted ones. But I remembered none where the sea had been only the sea. Where the howling of wolves made my skin crawl not with fear but with a feeling of rightness and belonging. Where wolf-fur was not limited to winter-coats but was ever-present, in River sleeping beside me, the black curled around me – where I carried my own fur with me if I so willed.

The power is mine,

I am alive.

That was Raven's song, but it no longer mattered.

A wolf

I considered myself.

The songs became exchangeable. We were one, and we were both furred and unfurred.

Ravens don't cross the sea.

Whether Niy'ashi had spoken that as a truth or an assumption, it no longer mattered. There was no need for an answer anymore. The wolf was the answer, and so was the raven.

Only one raven.

'Are you happy here?'

'That is an unwolvish question'

'Because sadness is an unwolvish concept'

The meaning of fur and skin received whole new meanings. The meaning of power, of easiness of motion. The wolf knew no weariness, it seemed.

'I am happy'

'Even by the sea?'

'Even by the sea. – Especially by the sea'

'Now you are gloating'

'No. I would never dare to'

Not again.