Before Galbradith

     A cloud of dust whispered at his feet. The path had not been tread for some time, this The Wind What Canst Sleep could tell by the undisturbed layer of fine silt and dust that lay before him. In this land where rain was a stranger and the wind never did bother, the dust rested everywhere as a fine and velvety blanket. The blanket that stretched out before him showed no footsteps; even and smooth it was.
     It was not a treacherous place, nor was it a forbidding place. It was undisturbed only because the eons of time had preserved it in a cloak of sanctity. This place was sacred for it had been the site of the great battle between the Mardots and the Jinds in which Geoffi-tur's blood was spilt.
     There, in the heat streaming down from the star Satroph, in the heat of battle, Hathuurn's father was cut asunder by the blade of Maelnru. There, in the frenzy that followed, the Jinds had sworn to a man that the murder would be avenged. And there, as the blood boiled in their veins, giving off steam that steeped through the very skin, the Jinds had launched an assault on the Mardots as fierce as any that had ever been seen.
     Through the narrow Pass of Yoenirh the Jinds pushed the Mardots. Before them, and down into the plains of Galbradith flowed the blood of fallen warriors on both sides. And it was ankle deep in the ceaselessly maddening swirl of blood that Maelnru stood, there upon the plains of Galbradith, as the tips of a hundred spears impaled his body, and brought an end to the great battle.
     In that instant of revenge, a howl had gone up so loud and piteous that (the poets tell) it singed Satroph, and caused the star to hide her radiance in sympathy. There were no victors on that fated day for the Mardots and Jinds had both lost their leaders. The survivors silently built their cairns upon the bodies of their fallen kings, and then left the field, never to return.
     As the tales of the battle were passed on, and spread to lands far and wide, a sanctity settled over this place which is called Galbradith ~ a sanctity respected throughout all the realms.
     Baeoinfaermn paused to rest in the shade of the Cairn of Geoffi-tur. It stood on the left side of the Pass of Yoenirh, some fifty paces from the entrance of the Pass into the Galbradith plains. From the cairn, the ground sloped gently downward for a distance of about two furlongs, and from there it leveled out to form the plain. The slight bit of height where he rested beside the cairn enabled Baeoinfaermn to take in a wide view of the plain. From this point he could see the Cairn of Maelnru standing quite a distance away in the center of the plain. It looked so similar to the one in whose shade he rested.
     "Is this pile of stone and layers of dust what great men come to?" he thought to himself. Sitting there amidst the undisturbed dust of memories forgot The Wind What Canst Sleep gave in to musings that seemed to swell within him. The words spoken by Hathuurn in his dreams in the hazy realms of Mattgunne came back to him now. And he wondered whether it was by chance that he had now come to find himself here in this most hallowed of lands, or whether there existed some predetermined order to men's actions. "In the end" he wondered, "does it really matter whether our actions are determined or otherwise?" As Baeoinfaermn mused anon his thoughts drifted back to the tales told by Nordo in his fabled Book...
     Once I chanced to enter an enclosed space wherein there existed an object of some sort. Before I chanced to perceive the object a question arose: "Is it possible for an object of some sort to exist within the enclosed space?" Then, as I further perceived that which existed within the enclosed space, an answer grew out of chaos ~ "Yes, it is indeed possible for an object of some sort to exist within the enclosed space." With this question answered, a second question arose: "Does an object of some sort exist within the enclosed space?" And as I perceived yet further, an answer likewise grew out of chaos ~ "Yes, an object of some sort does indeed exist within the enclosed space." And so within the space enclosed I perceived the existence of an object.
     As I stood within the enclosed space perceiving the object of some sort a third question arose: "Is it possible for an object of some sort to not exist within the enclosed space?" And as I further perceived that which existed within the enclosed space, an answer arose out of chaos ~ "Yes, it is indeed possible for an object of some sort to not exist within the enclosed space." And as I glanced in its direction I did not perceive the object.
     This, then, is reality ~ to pose questions, and to state answers ~ for reality exists only in the desire to question, and in the resolution to answer.
     As Baeoinfaermn roused himself from his musing he realized that it matters so little what the answer is to the question, for even the question itself matters so little. There in the shade of the Cairn of Geoffi-tur as he glanced eastward toward the Cairn of Maelnru, The Wind What Canst Sleep came to understand that it is the journey between questions and answers that is the truly important thing which constitutes reality. Whether men's actions are predetermined or whether they proceed by chance is of minor importance when compared to the fact that the mere action exists.
     And it seemed to Baeoinfaermn that his quest was nearly at its end.