THE LAST MEETING

 THE LAST MEETING

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The four hunting parties had already departed for the woods on the northern side of the Blue Mountains, as the nearer forest of Kinderval had long been deemed forbidden and haunted. Doge and Drea had followed the dry ravine where the River Mishnak ended; yet they soon saw that its trickling became a stream, which fastly deepened into the great river that skirted about the mountains before it headed north again. The two friends had proven their abilities last summer to bring in game for the village and were eager to better themselves on this trip. However, their loud steps seemed only to ward off any prey into the sights of the other hunting parties. Their silence turned into an enjoyable outing for them with talk of which young woman of Sinjar had caught their eye the most.

“Listen, did you hear that?” Doge squatted down, motioning for Drea to do the same.

Off in the distance, ahead of them, voices could be heard, “Yes, but I do not understand what they are saying.”

To the left, the widening river had begun to divide about a large piece of land. It was as thick with trees, fern, and brush as the woods they found themselves hunting in. The further they followed their shoreline the darker the forest canopy became, and the closer the indistinct voices were. “There,” whispered Drea, “You see the light?”

“There are five walking about,” Doge pointed to the dimly lit figures pacing deeper within the island’s woods. The hunters were still far enough away that their silence would not be noticed. Doge picked up the trunk of a fallen tree, “Help me bridge across and find out the meaning of the occasion.”

Moments later the two friends were edging about the river’s small, embanked island, and still no closer to overhearing the details of the secret gathering. Suddenly there was the noise of scuffling, then a man’s outcry followed by another. Two figures had fallen to the ground. From then, the wide-eyed friends noticed the voices had grown softer, and sounded strangely further away as even the lanterns' lights grew dim and then went out. Doge nodded to his companion that he was going closer in, but Drea discouraged his adventurous friend. The more Doge edged toward the figures the more he stood up, “Drea, come here.”

Drea saw that Doge now stood within a long-abandoned stone circle where four cold lanterns hung on old posts. The secluded island’s meeting place was populated only by themselves. Their questioning expressions to one another were the same – speechless.

Giving up, Doge sighed, “Well, I suppose we should head back with only a strange tale to relay.”

“With only the glory of last year’s kill to recount, we will have to suffer the talk of how noisy our feet helped out the other parties,” Drea scoffed back.

“Mynierah!”

“Oh, defiantly a rare beauty!” Drea agreed.

“She said yes when I asked for her hand,” Doge smiled broadly.

“Well done, my friend, well done!”

Later, when they were the last to find their way back to the village of Sinjar, they saw the great feasting had already begun. Cheers rang out for Munos and Dedan as they had the glory of the greatest abundance this trip. But it was they who praised the efforts of Drea and Doge for helping them, instead of lauding their empty handiness. In the midst of the encircling, colorful bannered tents there blazed a grand fire. Even those of Sinjar’s cliff-side homes had joyously come down to join in that year’s first spring celebration. During the bounty of their meal, each group had given a detailed account of their tracking skills, which landed the largest game numbers in years. After those joyous stories, the gathering grew silent in waiting for the account of the last party to arrive home. Instead of being shamefully disappointed, it was Doge who stood before the people and shared their strange encounter. Their audience murmured in bewilderment at what vision had transpired among them.

Then came the aged voice, from an old man whose eyes had long since turned white with blindness, who spoke up. “It was the Watchers! Long before they had gathered to watch the last elven ships depart the world, some fell into a grave sin. What you saw had haunted their secret memories for years, and for even longer has that event played out over again in the memory of those secluded trees.” The old man patted his own chest as he added, “Other adventurers, once upon a time such as yourselves have happened across that fading vision before. Who you saw were Ba’alyick, Symodare, and Galadier in the years of their prime. That was the night Colmadur and Nolmas quarreled over whether to stay or depart. Then, after a brief struggle, Colmadur drew a blade and killed Nolmas, who in turn was killed by Galadier, the very father of the Prophet Nadan! Afterward, oaths were taken, and men were buried. The fruit of that last, secret meeting was to find redemption in making themselves teachers to lesser men. For we all carry such experiences that drive us forward to become better men, in a dying world.”

A hushed quiet fell upon the people with those somber words. Then a woman yelled out, “Lalala-alalala!” Music, dancing, and laughter exploded beneath the star-covered night. Amid those festivities, Doge announced his and Mynierah’s betrothal! The Shaman of Sinjar excitedly called for everyone to see the union be fruitful and their community blessed as well.