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The Tale of Fëor and Ërna
Wandering and Woe (1)

Wandering and Woe (1)

Fëor didn’t go home after leaving the assembly.

Instead, he found himself lost in a very dark stretch of the grove.

"What am I doing?" he lamented.

Lua, who was nearly half radiant, was hidden behind the dense foliage above. But even so, Fëor was traveling through a trench of gnarled roots, so it was more accurate to say that he was wandering through a long, den-like tunnel of earth and wood. He could feel the pulsing of fëol all around him, winding its way to the great river Gälnolëa—but little else offered him guidance.

Or so he assumed.

For his entire journey thus far, which was rather short by most standards, Fëor’s feet dragged as his heart raced. The grove he so loved seemed suddenly strange and foreign, distorted by his anxiety to appear as a nightmarish landscape devoid of light and life. It had only been a handful of hours since he took that sudden turn westward on his way home, veering off his usual path. He regretted it, but couldn't stop. He complained, but went on. He was terribly underprepared and unqualified...

"But who else would go?"

Berating himself in the darkness, he questioned his choices for the sixth or seventh time. Bëolnos and Gylda would have been better suited for this sort of thing, but they were both too important to defy the decision of the assembly. No one would suspect Fëor—poor, timid Fëor—to do such a stupid, daring thing. Right?

“I knew you’d come around,” a voice intruded.

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Fëor nearly merged with the roots around him as two rose-gold eyes appeared within the darkness before him. Glowing drops of dew—ëolfëár—then rose from the earth around him, illuminating the den-like trench as if it were the night sky unveiled. There, bathed in their ethereal fëol-hued light, stood a great raccoon-dog that seemed to fade back into the shadows surrounding them. It was Tálnos, one of the great ëolfëánorí protecting Gälenor.

“Y-you…knew?” Fëor managed, trembling.

“Oh yes,” Tálnos confirmed, grinning toothily. “Gylthra has always had Her winds wrapped around you. Yes, yes…veeery interesting. You are indeed the last one I expected to betraaay the assembly.”

Fëor gulped. That didn’t sound very good.

"I-I didn't betray anyone. I-I'm...I'm just out for a stro—"

“And yet,” Tálnos played, “you’re the ooonly one I suspected. Funny, isn’t it?”

Fëor stiffened as Tálnos wrapped his illuminated yet shadowy form around him.

“You see, I’ve been waiting,” he whispered.

“I-I’m sorry,” Fëor squeaked, eyes closed tightly. "I took a wrong turn. I should have gone straight home. I...I don't know...I'm s-sorry."

“Sooorry?” Tálnos mocked, frowning. “Well that’s no good. No good at all. No, no, no.”

His eyes whipped westward down the gnarled path...

And then he disappeared.

Fëor remained frozen as he waited for Tálnos to reappear, but nothing happened; and soon the glowing, drop-like ëolfëár receded into the soil along with him, leaving Fëor alone in darkness once more. After a stifling moment in that silence, Fëor finally peeled himself away from the earthen wall. He looked westward, then back the way he came, then westward again.

Perhaps I should turn around, he thought to himself, dejected. If I go home now…

But just as he considered giving up on his quest, a warmer rose-gold glow appeared in the distance. It seemed to emanate from a paper lantern held by a cloaked figure that was slowly walking towards him. Fëor squinted as they drew near, but their face was veiled by a hood. He wanted to run, but fear rooted his feet in place. When the lantern’s light reached Fëor, the figure stopped. They grabbed their hood as he quivered, pulling it down to reveal…

“Ërna?!”