Welcome to Gaia! ::

The woman walked through the parted crowd and came to a stop just in front of the bonfire, where she bowed to one knee and lowered her head respectfully.

Alaundil began to speak, and Shiro translated for Lin's benefit.

"'Jyskacha Eilsrahel,'" he murmured translating this time word for word, "'daughter of Uhlsdorl Eilsrahel, do you know the history of your house?'" He paused a moment as the woman answered. "'No.' 'At the time of the Escape, when our people fled from Melkor's evil, we had nowhere to turn to, no land to call our own. Long years we searched, but no land could sustain us, for all the land had been destroyed by the hand of the evil one. But it was he, Woddan, who discovered this land and urged us to live here, and in honour of his discovery he was given the name Eilsrahel: the Land of the Valar. Throughout the generations, the family Eilsrahel have been held in high respect, and time and again have found new ways to improve upon our lives here in Nauros.'"

There was a pause, and Omarerd, the old, wrinkled elf, stepped forward and knelt next to the girl and began painting on her shoulder.

"'Jyskacha,'" Shiro continued to translate as Alaundil continued once more to speak, "'you have also shown great worth. Only yesterday you saved the life of one of our young ones, rescuing him from the river in which so many have been lost. Jyskacha Eilsrahel, you have honoured your family.'"

The painting finished, the woman rose to her feet and stepped forward until she was directly in front of Alaundil, and the elder placed one hand on the freshly painted mark.

"'You are worthy,'" Shiro continued to translate verbatim, "'to receive your father's mark.'"

She bowed her head, and suddenly there was a flash of light. The young woman gasped suddenly, as if in pain, but then she looked up at Alaundil as the elder lowered her hands.

"'Jyskacha Eilsrahel, call forth your spirit!'"

And then Shiro fell silent, watching as the girl touched two fingers to her mark, and waited for her spirit to appear: there was a slight shimmer in the air, but nothing happened.

Kelirahc leaned over to Shiro and murmured something to him softly, and Shiro in turn leaned over to Lin and whispered, "This is common, very few are able to summon their spirit on their first try. In fact, it's quite rare."

And indeed, no one seemed to think twice about the fact that the woman was unable to summon her spirit: a great cheer went up, and the Night Elves leaped to their feet. Many of them headed forward to congratulate the woman, while others brought out food or drink, and still others brought out different kinds of musical instruments: and in the blink of an eye, the solemnity had dissolved into what almost seemed to be a festival.

Shiro was floored. "This really does seem like a perfect world," he couldn't help but murmur to himself as he rose slowly to his feet. "It's so ... fascinating!"

Shiro looked surprised at Lin's question, but he looked around obediently, eying the elves as well as he could from one place.

"Uhm ... six ... eleven? Seven feet? Maybe a bit more?" he guessed. "Leyenda's six three, and Kelirahc is a full head taller than her ... why?"

He looked at Lin, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Sir Valdemar?" Shiro blinked and looked around. "Um ... yes ... perhaps even a bit taller, I suppose ... slightly ..."

He frowned at her. "Now will you tell me what you're thinking? It's a very strange feeling, not knowing what's going on ..."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "So you're saying ... you think they're still of the purest of the elven race," he murmured. "It's possible ... I mean, look at Omarerd, who knows how old he is?"

Though it also raised the question, how old was Kelirahc? He was as tall as any of the others, did that mean he was old as well? And then the thought hit him ... what would Leyenda think if he was that old?

Though even for elves, he didn't look old.

"Shall I ask for you?" Shiro asked Lin, not at all teasing. He himself was curious, and also curious to know what generation Kelirahc might be. But he had many questions: how many generations had there been since the Night Elves had made this place their home? How many families were there, if the population was so small? How many different family marks were there? Did everyone have one? Did every family have a different one? What was required before someone could get one?

The question of how they knew their history so well had been answered: it was told bit by bit every time someone received their mark. And it was an ingenious idea, Shiro admitted. It would be recounted for the entire village, and give each individual a sense of personal belonging, as if they themselves were truly important.

He looked around. And in a village this size ... everyone was important. They didn't seem to have different vocations, or an economy, but they lived together, and they survived, and that seemed to be enough for them. There was no anger, no struggle, no strife ... and it even seemed as though there might not be any envy or jealousy between them.

Or maybe there was, he mused as he watched some of the women shooting jealous glances in Leyenda's direction.

"Eh?" Shiro had been looking for Kelirahc, who had disappeared into the crowd. He laughed, catching the looks that were being shot in their general direction. "Ah. Yes, it seems Leyenda's caught herself quite the husband. From the whispers around us, it seems several of the girls here have had their eye on him for several years now."

Though that only made him more curious about Kelirahc's age.

"Come on, let's go find him back," he motioned for Lin to follow him into the crowd. "And stay close, I don't know how easy it will be to find each other back if we get separated."