Dennis McKiernan - The Brega path

Yet none of this legend did Perry and Durek speak upon at length, for the violence of the Vorvor was remote down within the Quadran; and the distant whirling waters seemed to twist around in silence, for only a winking glitter of the far-off wheeling funnel reached up into the lofty aerie.

Durek glanced at the sky, gauging where stood the Sun. "Here, Friend Perry," the Dwarf King counseled, "sit here." And he led the Warrow to an unworked quartzen outcrop, in part naturally shaped much the same as the bench of a massive throne. "Look east to the peak of Ghatan, just there where the high cleft and grey crag meet. And wait, for the time is nearly upon us."

And so they waited in silence, Perry's gaze locked upon the place Durek had directed. Slowly the Sun came unto the zenith, and lo! a circlet of light bejewelled with five stars sprang forth from deep within the crags. Perry looked in wonder at the Dwarf King and saw that the studded circlet and stars on Seventh Durek's armor were arrayed in the same number and fashion as those reflected from the spire of Ghatan.

"You see before you the Chakkacyth Ryng-the Dwar-venkith Ring," declared the Dwarf, "spangled with a star for each Line of the Chakka Kindred. Ever has the Ryng lived in our legends. Ever has it signified the unity of our Folk. And I came to Kraggen-cor to claim the Ryng for myself and my kith. But alas!! did not know the terrible cost that such a sigil would bear.

"I now feel that I will be the last King of Durek's Folk, and that after me we shall be no more. Oh, we shall not die, nor leave Mitheor; but instead, I deem we must come together with others of our Race to merge our blood with theirs, and the pure line of Durek will vanish. For if we do not meet and merge with others of our kind, Durek's Folk will fall into weakness and futility; our losses were staggering, and alone, we who were the mightiest cannot recover.

"Already Chakkadom is spread thinly, and our numbers gradually dwindle, for we are slow to bear young. I think that this War has sounded the death knell of the separate Chakka Kindred, and to survive, the Five Kith must become but one. Accordingly, I have sent out the word of our… victory- hot only to Mineholt North, where my trothmate Rith and the families of my warriors even now prepare to join us, but also to the other Chak Kindred both near and distant, asking any who would come to do so.

"I brought you here, Friend Perry, to show you that Ryng, to show you that symbol of our dream: five stars upon a perfect circle. But I also wished to show you the cost of that dream-for as it can be with each great dream, sometimes the cost to the dreamer is staggering.

"All dreams fetch with a silver call, and to some the belling of that treasured voice is irresistible. And in many quests, the silver turns to dross, while in others, it remains precious; but in the harsh crucibles of some quests, the silver Is transformed into ruthless metal. Such was the case with bom of our dreams, Waeran, yours and mine: we answered to the lure of a silver call, but found instead cruel iron at quest's end. Yet what is done is done, and we cannot call it back, we cannot flee into yesterday.

"That does not mean that it is wrong to dream, nor does it mean that one should not reach for a dream. But it does mean mat all dreams exact a price: sometimes trivial, sometimes more than can be borne.

"Some dreams are small: a garden patch, a rosebush, the Grafting of a simple thing. Some dreams are grand: a great journey, a dangerous feat, the winning of a Kingdom. And die greater the dream, the greater the reward-yet the greater can be the cost. One cannot reach for a dream and remain unchanged, and that change is part of the cost of the dream. But when events go awry and disaster strikes, each of us who dreams must not let his spirit be crushed by the outcome.

"A person can be safe and never reach for his dream, never risk failure, never expose his spirit to the dangers inherent, but then he will never reap the rewards of a dream realized, and he might never truly live.

"Friend Perry, you reached for your dream, you grasped it, and held on to the very end. You found that the cost was high-higher than any of us had anticipated. And now you would go and rest and be at peace, and I believe you should. But do not hide away and brood, and fester, and become small in spirit; instead, rest, and reflect, and grow."

Durek then fell silent. And as the Sun passed beyond the zenith, Perry and the Dwarven King sat upon the Mountain Throne, and together they watched the Ring fade from sight- and as the glitter dimmed, the grasping bitterness gently fell away from the Warrow's heart, though the deep sadness remained. After a while, they stood and walked in silence back into Kraggen-cor, closing the bronze door behind.

The next morning. Cotton and Perry prepared to leave. They would head back through Kraggen-cor to Dusk-Door, and Silverleaf would go with them: Shannon was to be their guide through Lianion to the place called Luren. And as the Warrows prepared, so did Lord Kian; in the company of the Elves of Darda Erynian he would go east to the Rissanin River and then northeasterly to Dael, returning to Riamon and his Kingdom.

At last all was ready. Perry and Cotton, Shannon and Kian, all stood with Durek in the Great Chamber of the Sixth Rise. None knew what to say, for it was a sad moment. The Man looked to the center of the hall, to a white stone tomb-a tomb upon which lay an unadorned blackhandled sword of Riamon-a tomb wherein Prince Rand had been laid to rest in honor. And tears sprang into Kian's eyes. Durek followed the young Lord's gaze and said, "Your brother died in glory and is the only Man ever to be so honored by the Chikka."

Tears coursed down the cheeks of the Warrows, and Kian turned to them and pledged, "I shall come to the Boskydells after a time, and we'll have a pipe and speak of better things. Look for me in the spring, summer, or fall, not the next but perhaps the ones after; but do not look for me in the winter, for it will be bleak and stir up too many painful memories. I will come when the grief has faded to but an old sadness." He embraced the Waerlinga and clasped the forearm of Shannon and Durek, and without another word, — turned and walked swiftly away through the lantern light, striding toward the Dawn-Gate, where awaited his escort of Elves.

"Fare you well," called Cotton after him, but Perry could say nought.

Then Perry and Cotton in turn took the hand of Durek and said goodbye. And Durek gave Cotton a smalt bag of silver pennies to see to their expenses on the way home, and a small silver cask, locked with a key, that they were not to open until they had returned to The Root-and what was inside was for the both of them. He returned to Perry the silveron armor; and the quarrel hole had been repaired by Durek himself, the arrow-shattered amber gem now replaced by a red jewel, and all the gems were now reinforced behind by starsilver links. And Durek bade him to put the armor on. Perry donned the mail but vowed, "I have had enough of fighting and War, and though I wear this armor, I will fight no more.

The Warrows and Shannon turned and began trudging west across the floor, along the Brega Path. Durek watched them go, and before they entered the west corridor he called out after them, "Perhaps I, too, will come to your Land of the Bosky."

And only silence followed.

The trio spent that night in the Grate Room, and the next morning they went on. When they came to the Bottom Chamber, Perry did not look at the cleft in the wall where Ursor had gone, but instead he hurried past with his eyes downcast to the stone floor. They came to the eight-foot-wide Fissure and found that the Dwarves had constructed a wooden bridge over it to carry the supplies across, and the Warrows were relieved mat they didn't have to leap above the dreadful depths of the Drawing Dark. Onward they went until they came to the stairs leading down to Dusk-Door, and at the bottom they found the gates standing wide and two Dwarves guarding the portal.