A Castrovel Adventure: Part 3, Chapter 26

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil u’Zhasaele Zolaemaue be’Son

12. Afaelae, 24,542 - 2nd Day at Noruma
A day to rest the Shotalashu and the footmen after the hard wayfare hither, and also to plan. Lady Karami was walking stiffly this morn after her quicksome nighttide with Raeas. Gainwise, however, she is in mirth while we talk of the next deed to seek peace. At my ask, she has sent wordbodes. To the Reul they bear word that we will come to them, for they sit nearest the Elflands. To the Sholasa they bear the beseech that they come to us, to talk of their sake against the Elves.
Tomorrow we shall head to the Reul, who dwell five dayfares westward and beyond the high ridge. Also, and unleastly, we have gotten warning that we fare at Heaventide’s end, and Floodtide’s start. When we answered we fully beware the yeartide, we got back laughter, and rede that we have not forsoothly seen rain until we reach the high ridge’s far side.
Lady Karami read that Lady Avaere and the Reul will happily meet, for she believes they will shun war if they can, and if nothing else, a twelvesome of stoutly weaponed warriors will be welcome. Of Kazos and the Sholasa, how they will answer the wordbode she knows not, but hopes that word of Son outriders will rather draw them, instead of outright warfare. She and her holdfolk will wait our word to reckon next. The lady’s only ask is that we leave Raeas with her, for she says she will begladden of his further service. With some laughter I and asked if he will stay behind. Under his father’s teasing chuckle, he yaysaid. I gave him a kiss, and bade him do his utmost to keep the peace, which brought merry hoots from the others. In dearth, Lady Karami will send two hunters with us.

13. Afaelae - 1st Dayfare from Noruma; 8th Day Afetch
The nighttide cools with a sharpness that reminds of the Hall of Stars, though I pray it will not become so chill. We camp under one of the few trees big enough to hang our tents. In readiness I had us pack so much firewood as we could bear and have brought the Shotalashu to slumber near the fire, for this chill can wrack a Shota’s health. Tomorrow we will reach the narrows and overtread the high ridge.

14. Afaelae - 2nd Day From from Noruma; 9th Day Afetch
Rain fell anight, a chill shower that sorely smote the Shota, who were so aweakened that they could hardly stir at morntide. Our first chore became to warm them, which went but hardly until the daytide lightened. Then we packed camp and took the narrows winding among the peaks southward and above Father-Yaro’s race. These are the Stormshields, the same fells that run all southward to Qabarat and overlook the whole of Asana’s western shore, from the Shattersea in the South to the Western Sea’s far northernmost reaches, where I have read coldstone floats in hill-like chunks upon the waves.
Twice today rainstorms struck while we threaded the narrows, fierce and hard-shooting droplets that stung with heaven’s chill. Yet heedfully, the wind that drove them blew warm. With the Shota already astir, the chill hindered them no more. We reached mostly through to the far side and camp below the last height, whence our Noruma friends tell we will drop toward the Shorelands. We have built our campfire high and will heed to start tomorrow the Shotalashu kindly.

15. Afaelae - 3rd Day from Noruma; 10th Day Afetch; beyond the High Ridge
I can hardly write this log, for my paper is so damp it almost tears from my pen’s touch. We crouch within our tents, which we hung but bothersomely, and huddle in hope our warmth will outdrive the water’s chill, for no fire can last in this weather. It is raining as if Father-Sky weeps for the world’s death.
Rain I know. I have lived with it my whole lifetime. Three for four times a day in Son at Floodtide. Once or twice a day at Blighttide, and kinderly a fierce afternoon storm and drizzle anight. Twice or thrice a day at Stormtide, broken by thundering windy storms that stretch a day or two ere done, and then blessed Heaventide, when it may shower but every other day, the loft dries with freshening coolness from the North Wind, and Burning-Mother may bestow her goodwill with a short sight of Her blue palace. Yet this rain beats so yieldlessly as any stormtide spell, and, quoth our Noruma lead, will not end.
Twice ere noontide showerstorms smote, as yesterday had done. Then athwart our path we saw a misty wall. We understood what it foremeant when one of our Noruma friends waved at it: ~Azathi~ - “Floodtide,” he named.
We full-witted what he meant when we reached the wall. We rode into the eyesome mist, and the rain started. I asked Haes, our hunter, when it ends. He laughed: “In two months,” he answered.
It belikens that the Stormshields are not misnamed. What rain we see in Son, or indeed anywhere along the Yaro Strath, stands a tithe of what is undergone here on the shoreward side. Even moreso, further northward, the Retaea waits a whole yeartide for a raindrop. How we would outlive two months of this weather, however, I have no inkling. Wantsome Lanaryel wails. Remaue carried her along this whole dayfare under a gumcloak, which stuffiness was surely unmerry while we else forbore the shower’s pummel. We are thankful to be out of the skyflood, even if the loft within the tent is almost so thick. I believe none have rued this questfare until today.
More queerly, we have beheld a whitsome lack of trees on these highlands’ western slopes. Instead, there are mushrooms, whole groves, and whose stalk-beams and frond-caps grow so great as any I have ever seen, who sprout from slimy, mossless earth. We have found a Darkfloor without trees overhead. Seemingly, the endless, drowning rain has so made this land.