For Elrond, however, this latest revelation added a crucial piece to the puzzle Ja-zel represented. In his mind's eye, he went back to the evening of Erestor's transformation when - at the behest of the advisor - she had told the story of his life, while he lay in the sleep of change.
Among the things she had spoken of, was the tale told to Erestor by a loyal retainer, as he lay spent from the brutal aftermath of his majority. A tale of how, long ago in Nevrast, Erestor's grandmother had been bitten by a strange male that resembled an elf, but clearly had not been one. Something had entered the unsuspecting elleth's bloodstream through that bite. Something that had manifested only in the males of her line. First, in the son the elleth bore some years later, with disastrous and ultimately fatal, results. Then, in the son borne by her daughter; Erestor.
// " Our kind do not breed as others do." // The Lyoness had said.
Erestor had survived the onset of his own initial transformation. But the process had failed to successfully overcome his elven nature, leaving him to lead a hellish half-existence. Elrond then remembered Ja-zel's explanation as to why that had been so.
// " When one was chosen and chose, in return, to become part of the ' Pride', the change required the bite of both a Lyon and a Lyoness to come to full completion." //
As the echo of those words faded, Elrond came back to his present surroundings. He glanced over at Glorfindel, then at Melpomaen, seeing by their expressions that they, too, were remembering the conversation all three had shared with the Lyoness that night. Then his gaze returned to Ja-zel, who was standing calmly before the council, waiting for the lull of silence to break into the inevitable storm of exclamations.
So...she also had undergone the process of transformation, for as she had stated only moments ago, she had been born human. To human parents. Into a human tribe.
Still, the puzzle was far from solved.
As the lull ended, Elrond's mind asked its own set of questions.
Who had been the Lyon and Lyoness that had administered the bites required to initiate Ja-zel into the ' Pride'?.
Where had they come from?.
How had the strange male who had bitten Erestor's grandmother, come to be in Nevrast in the first place?.
What had caused Ja-zel, so many centuries later, to also leave her native land?.
And finally,
Why had the Lyoness spoken of her people, of her ' Pride', as if they were no longer in existence?.
These questions begged answering, and so Elrond was grateful to hear Mithrandir's voice rise above the din that had overtaken the council.
" Patience! Patience, I bid you!" The wizard called out, his commanding tone restoring order once more. " There is but one way to reach understanding, and that is by allowing Lady Ja-zel to continue on with her tale." He then looked directly at the Lyoness. " If you will, my lady."
Ja-zel inclined her head in respectful acquiescence to his words, before again taking up where she had left off with the strange combination of words and images that made up her narrative...
" Children had always been treasured by the Be-D'uin people." She began. " And so I grew up surrounded not only by the loving care of my own tribe, but by that of the other tribes as well. For you see, once a year, after the rains that heralded the end of the harsh summer months, we would all converge upon the great Oasis at the very center of our desert lands and there, we would spend many days in joyous celebration.
This was the time when our nomadic tribes set down temporary roots, in order to renew the ties of friendship. This was also the time to see to all manner of things that had cropped up during the course of the year. Livestock was traded to keep the herds from becoming inbred, news and gossip were shared, the occassional dispute was settled, prayers were offered for the dead, songs were sung for the newborns, betrothals were declared, weddings were performed and the lore of our people was passed down by the elders, as all sat and listened in rapt attention.
And off course, there was commerce. Bartering had been elevated into an art form among the Be-D'uin. Each tribe had developed distinctive decorative styles, and so there was much pride in craftmaship and much outrageous hagling, before goods such as jewelry, baskets, blankets and clothing, traded hands. Yet in truth, very few ever came to feel cheated in any way, and most such business was usually concluded with the good-natured sharing of a wineskin.
Such drinking inevitably led to equally good-natured boasting. Thus, the afternoons would often be spent with the elders, women and children sitting in the shade, while our younger men engaged in all manner of contests, designed to show off their battle prowess. The sling, the lance and the bow; these were our weapons. For though we knew nothing of warfare, they were still needed when we took our herds into the vast savannah for the winter months . Those lands of tall grasses and slightly cooler weather, were home to all manner of beasts. Some of whom would prey upon our livestock, if given the opportunity. Beasts like the wily Hyenas, the fast-running Cheetas and the ferocious...Lions."
Here, the Lyoness paused, when she heard a loud squeak coming from her right. She turned her head and looked fondly over at Melpomaen, whose cheeks were flaming into a lovely shade of crimson, as he suddently found himself to be the focus of everyone's attention.
" Yes, young one. These are the very beasts described in the book you were carrying, on the morning we formally met." She said, and smiled at him.
Then, she returned to her tale.
" So you see, these contests, apart from being a very enjoyable way to pass the afternoons, also served to keep our men's skills well honed. There was much advice and critique from those in the sidelines, called out in such ways as to often render all listeners nearly incapacitated from laughter. For a properly-crafted insult had also been elevated into an artform among us.
Such high spirits were carried over to the evenings, when the feasting and dancing would begin. Late into the night, did our campfires burn. And it was at these times that our desert land, thought to be so inhospitable by others, seemed to enfold its chosen people in a warm, secure embrace.
But all that began to change, in my seventeenth summer of life. For at that year's gathering the Ral-Kir tribe -who of us all roamed closest to the borders of the Haradrim- came bearing some disturbing news.
The Ral-Kir had long ago established friendly trade with some of the great caravans that travelled along the very northernmost edge of the desert. It was through this advantageous set up that all of our surplus goods were bartered for things like spices, soaps, perfumes and incense. Little luxuries that were, nevertheless, integral to the welfare of our people. And it was also from these caravans, that the four tribes learned of the happenings beyond our insulated land.
Normally, such news were an eagerly anticipated part of the gatherings. But like I said, that year the mood became grim, as the Ral-Kir elders spoke of a terrible shadow that was threatening not only the great kingdoms of the pale-skinned men, but also the mountain fortresses of the stout dwarves, and the dense forests of those ethereal beings called 'Elves'.
Some fallen God from ancient times was waging war upon the lands of the west. And now, the elders said, this dark entity was sending his minions down into the Southlands, into Harad. Previously unknown creatures, of ill-countenace, had been observed. Strangely, they seemed to be targeting the packs of wild Hyenas, hunting them always at night. Stranger still, was the fact that the Hyenas were not being hunted for food, but rather were being captured alive, then taken to some unknown destination.
These news caused much distress among us. For the thought of such evil crossing into our desert lands filled us not only with dread, but with anger. Thus, it was agreed that the four tribes would begin to exercise great vigilance. Should any of these foul minions be found, they were to be killed immediately. We would do what we could to protect our beloved home, and the life that dwelled within it...
Over the next four years, we did encounter these creatures, in ever increasing numbers. And so, for the first time, warfare became a regular part of our lives. Our yearly gatherings grew increasingly somber. Until it seemed as if the very lights from our campfires were dimmed. Still, we were prevailing in our efforts to rid the desert of this ill."
Ja-zel stopped, bowing her head for a few moments as her tail twitched, involuntarily. When she looked up again, those in the council held their breath, for her eyes had gone feral. And her next words were a barely-restrained growl that sent a collective chill up their spines.
" Aye, we were prevailing. But then...they came."
TBC...