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Old 08-26-2004, 11:31 AM   #279
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
 
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Rama & Miri

Ráma did not move her eyes from Mithadan's face even when Rôg dumped the tray on the ground and Miri scurried forward to retrieve the fruit. The Man from Gondor could be lying or confused, but Ráma did not think so. There was a calm assurance and honesty in both his tone and demeanor that convinced her he was speaking the truth. If he said Bird had mastered five shapes and that one was an Ent and another a dragon, then it must be so.

Ráma was less certain how others in her clan would respond to Mithadan's plea. However softly phrased, his description of Bird implicitly challenged some of the Elders' teachings. She was not sure whether the Man from Gondor even recognized this.

She had apparently been taught things that weren't true. Not all dragons were base and dishonorable. And there was at least one talking, sentient creature whose form had been taken on by a maenwaith . Quickly, her mind made another giant leap. It wasn't only the Ents. In the ancient tales, the wyrms could speak to each other and even with Men. Why had she never made this connection before and recognized that the limits about talking creatures had certain exceptions? She had always accepted what the Elders said about who she was and what she might and might not do. It was not that they had lied to her. They were good Men and Women who knew a great deal more than she did. But they did not know everything.

The Elders had constantly drummed a simple dictum into her head: only clan leaders could take on four shapes; all others, including herself, were restricted to three. The message had been clear: do not squander your forms, or you may find you have none left when it comes time to take your place among the adult Eagles of the clan. You will be one of the dispossessed who harbors an Eagle spirit, but with no physical form in which it may find its expression.

Perhaps, the Elders had been mistaken that day on the beach when they had scolded her. And her own mother had been right to urge her to look for help among the wyrms. Maybe the key to her past as well as the fate of her people lay in accepting the same hard lesson: although goodness never changes, ways of thinking and acting do, and we must master those changes with grace and an honorable heart, just as we master changes in our form.

Impulsively lurching to her knees in front of Mithadan, in full view of her astonished dinner guests, Ráma spoke loudly so all could hear: "Man of Gondor, you say more than you realize. But I believe you. I swear that I will not rest until I help you and Airefalas find this Bird. For your search and mine have become one. Perhaps this Bird was sent to us for reasons we cannot altogether know, perhaps even to lead us to her other Dragon kin who have not forsaken the old ways. Tomorrow, we will speak more on this and see where we will begin this search. For now, it is late, and I would ask you to return to your tents. Say nothing more of this to anyone until I have had a chance to speak with my sister." With that she turned and, beckoning Miri to her side, quickly left the tent.

****************************


Miri looked up hesitently at her older friend as Ráma took her by the hand and briskly whisked them out of the tent, preparing to take her home. The girl was not certain exactly what to say. So much had happened between her and Rôg, and now Ráma was acting in a way she could not understand.

They stopped for a moment by a large barrel that stood nearby to ladle out two small cups of water. After they had drunk, Ráma threw her head back, looked up at the stars, and began humming a song to herself. Miri could see that she was acting very strangely.

"My mother will be pleased!" Ráma confided. "I know she will be excited to hear about Bird." Perhaps, she mused silently to herself, Ayar will feel better after she's rested and I can speak with her in the morning. As they reached the end of the row and stood in front of the tent belonging to Miri's family, Ráma halted for a moment to speak with the girl, "I wanted to see if Rôg would be willing to help us recruit among the tribes to the south. But so much happened at the end that I never had time. I know you are close friends with him. Perhaps you can tell me. Do you think he would be willing to speak with his clan so that they could help us? Do you know what form his clan takes to defend itself?"

Miri hastily shook her head, looking uncomfortable. "You'll have to ask him. I don't know much about this. Anyways, I'm not sure if he can help. He's going to visit his family."

"The ones he mentioned earlier who are camped south of here."

Miri shook her head, "Not exactly. Some other relatives.....very old ones." She was feelng a bit uncomfortable and hoped Ráma would stop questioning her. "I think his whole clan is going for a visit. They live in some caves on the rim of the northern desert. Not too far from the Sea, I think. Anyways, ask him yourself. He'll only be gone a little while."

At that point Ráma's face blanched. "But that's not possible. There is no place like that in Harad."

Miri shrugged her shoulders, "Well, he never said it was Harad. Maybe it's someplace else."

"Miri, look at me!" Ráma commanded. "I want you to repeat exactly what Rôg said....."
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