Tales of Thealrew -- Fate (book)
- This article is incomplete, which means that while it is not a stub, it still lacks certain data or information.
- Missing page needs to be added
- Please see Category:Incomplete articles for more articles that are incomplete.
The Tales of Thealrew -- Fate
by Annelore Oseruyka of the House of the Ivory Scroll
Thealrew grew in fame and wisdom. Gradually, he began restrict- ing his travel to the twelve villages that originally sought him as a leader -- the ones closest to his parents' home. He built a home central to the area, but outside of any one town's borders. Each sent materials and furnishings, glad to be able to finally give some token of thanks for the assistance he had given over the years. While this put an end to his long wandering, he occasion- ally spent a day or two in each village, and any town that needed him was still able to send for him, sometimes leading to his absence for several days at a time.
He took twelve wives, one from each of these local villages, for every town felt the need to be certain another could not lay special claim to him. His wives each bore Thealrew twelve chil- dren. They were all born with his mark -- cat-slitted amber eyes. While none of his children were universally gifted as their father was, they had special talent in a specific area, and each of his wives' families considered themselves blessed to have such children in their care.
As his own children grew, Thealrew took special care in their
<BUG reported 08/17/2010 - Pages missing>
the waters would not rise so high, the diverted river -- for that was the source of the deadly event -- surged upward and overtook them. A farmhand had rescued a sole surviving child, but as Thealrew held his last young daughter, she too succumbed, her injuries too severe for even her father to heal. Thealrew sank to the ground in grief. He was old; the days of marriage and child-rearing were behind him. He would never see his children marry or raise grandchildren, and would never himself bear more to even try to ease the pain. His line was over, and each joyful face forever gone.
Thousands came for the memorial service. As the smoke from the single funeral pyre lifted his daughter's spirit to the gods, a strange silence descended upon the gathered crowd. Even the birds and wind seemed to hold their peace, leaving only the sound of the flame embracing the girl's body and returning it to the dust.
For several days afterward, Thealrew lived in a makeshift shelter on the site of his home. Fearing that exposure to the elements or wild animals would take the man the people so loved, the elders from the village in which Thealrew was born finally persuaded him to return to his parents' old home which, though long empty, had been maintained by the people of the town as a reminder of his family. Grief for his recent loss was now joined by that for his innocent childhood, before he experienced such pain. The familiar surroundings did, however, slowly bring him some comfort, and the period of mourning finally passed.
Some time later, Thealrew rose and decided to scale the mountain once more. He felt a need to return to the place his journeys began to seek some peace with his loss. This time, he saw no visions but simply felt an increasing silence overtaking him. At the same point as so many years ago, he stopped and sat to wait. He watched the sky overhead darken as the sun set on the horizon.
"What do you seek?" said the voice, as soft as before.
"Answers," he replied. "I killed my own family."
"They were sacrificed."
"They are dead, regardless of the elegance or bluntness of the words describing it," he snapped. Thealrew was surprised at the anger in his response. He paused for a moment, calming himself. As he started to speak again, his voice shook, the memory of the faces of his wives and children returning to him. "Was there nothing I could have done?" he finally asked.
"Of course," the voice replied gently. "You could have stopped and returned home when the messenger came."
"But that would have meant the loss of the town," he sighed.
"Would you have me send you back to that day to rethink that choice?"
He saw his daughter's eyes again, and her relief at seeing him right before they closed for the last time. He wavered for a moment, but after a pause, Thealrew shook his head. "No. I cannot condemn the town, even to save my family."
There was a long silence. Finally, the voice spoke.
"You will have children again. To you who saw fit to place your duty to the town before your own family, we grant children etern- ally -- one for each that you lost. Henceforth there will always be one hundred forty-four Elotheans bearing your mark."
Thealrew descended from the mountain and returned to his parents' old home, finally at peace with his decision that day -- and that of another day long ago. When asked, he sometimes mentioned that there was more said that day, but would never share anything more.
Nobody is certain what became of Thealrew. Some say he was borne up to the gods; others, that he returned to his wanderings, to die peacefully in his sleep at a well-advanced age. Most often, though, Elotheans say that he was granted immortality, so that he might forever care for the children he was promised, and so tend the pain of the children he could not save.