Durek rasped, and they strode forth from the Great Chamber, where the remnants of the Host were now quartered. Out through the north entrance they went, and up within the mountain. High they climbed, and higher still, mounting up stair upon stair delved within the stone of Stormhelm, passing through Rise after Rise; many times they rested, yet still they ascended, and the stair was ancient, but lightly trod. Once more they rested and then pressed on, and finally they entered a carven hall. But the Dwarf held his lantern high and led the Warrow into a dark, twisting crack with shoots branching off in many directions.
At last they came to a small but massy bronze door, and the rune-iaden surface flung brazen glints back unto the eye. The Dwarf King took hold of the handle-a great ring of brass-and muttered strange words under his breath; and then he turned his wrist, twisting the ring post, and pushed the door outward.
Bright light streamed in through the open portal, and blue sky could be seen beyond. The Dwarf King crossed over the bronze doorsill and bade Perry to follow. And blinking his watering eyes in the brilliance, his hand shading his sight, the Warrow stepped through into the light.
And Perry found he was upon a windswept ledge on a towering vertical face of stone on the outer flanks of RaVenor-of Stormhelm. High up he was, yet still the mountain reared above him, rising toward the snow-laden crest. A low parapet was before him, and there King Durek stood, leaning forward upon both hands and looking down into the land. But Perry shrank back from such a view, for the drop was sheer and awesome. Yet Durek turned and held out his hand, and in spite of his fright, Perry stepped forward and look it; and strength seemed to flow from Dwarf to Warrow, and never again was Perry to fear heights.
It was a rare day upon Ravenor, for no storm hammered its peak. The cold thin air was crystalline, and the endless sky was calm, and a few serene clouds drifted past. To the north and south the great backbone of the Grimwall marched off into the distance. The other three peaks of the Quadran- Aggarath and Uchan, south and southeast, and Ghatan, east- shouldered up nearby. The clear-eyed Warrow could see far and away: to Darda Galion and beyond; to the Great Argon River; even unto the eaves of Darda Erynian. Perry's vision swept outward, over the southwest borders of Riamon and into the North Reach of Valon, where perhaps horses thundered across the plains. And it seemed to Perry as if the very rim of Mithgar itself might be seen from here.
And Durek directed the Warrow's eyes down onto the Pitch, and like tiny specks, a work crew of Dwarven Folk could be seen fetching water from the Quadmere. And Durek and Perry looked deeper down into the Quadran, and there in a great fold of stone on Ghatan's flank stood the Vorvor, a whirling churning gurge deeply entwined in Dwarven legend: There a secret river burst forth from the underearth to rage around a great stone basin and plunge down into the dark again; and a great gaping whirlpool raved endlessly and sucked at the sky and funneled deep into the black depths below. Dwarves tell that when the world was young and First.Durek trod its margins, he came unto this place. And vile tlkhs, shouting in glee, captured him and from a high stone ledge they flung him into the spin, and the sucking maw drew him down. According to the legend, none else had e'er survived that fate; yet First Durek did, though how, it is not said. To the very edge of the Realm of Death, and perhaps beyond, he was taken, yet Life at last found him on a rocky shore within a vast, undelved, undermountain realm; and First Durek strode where none else had gone before-treading through that Kingdom which was to become Kraggen-cor. How he came again unto the light of day, it is not told; yet it said that Daun Gate stands upon the very spot where he walked out through the mountainside; but how he crossed the Great Deop remains an enigma, though some believe that he was aided by the Utruni-the Stone Giants. And the enmity with Squam began here too, more deadly than the ravening whirl of the rearing Vorvor.
Yet none of this legend did Perry and Durek speak upon at length, for the violence of the Vorvor was remote down within the Quadran; and the distant whirling waters seemed to twist around in silence, for only a winking glitter of the far-off wheeling funnel reached up into the lofty aerie.
Durek glanced at the sky, gauging where stood the Sun. 'Here, Friend Perry,' the Dwarf King counseled, 'sit here.' And he led the Warrow to an unworked quartzen outcrop, in part naturally shaped much the same as the bench of a massive throne. 'Look east to the peak of Ghatan, just there where the high cleft and grey crag meet. And wait, for the time is nearly upon us.'
And so they waited in silence, Perry's gaze locked upon the place Durek had directed. Slowly the Sun came unto the zenith, and lo! a circlet of light bejewelled with five stars sprang forth from deep within the crags. Perry looked in wonder at the Dwarf King and saw that the studded circlet and stars on Seventh Durek's armor were arrayed in the same number and fashion as those reflected from the spire of Ghatan.
'You see before you the Chakkacyth Ryng-the Dwar-venkith Ring,' declared the Dwarf, 'spangled with a star for each Line of the Chakka Kindred. Ever has the Ryng lived in our legends. Ever has it signified the unity of our Folk. And I came to Kraggen-cor to claim the Ryng for myself and my kith. But alas!! did not know the terrible cost that such a sigil would bear.
'I now feel that I will be the last King of Durek's Folk, and that after me we shall be no more. Oh, we shall not die, nor leave Mitheor; but instead, I deem we must come together with others of our Race to merge our blood with theirs, and the pure line of Durek will vanish. For if we do not meet and merge with others of our kind, Durek's Folk will fall into weakness and futility; our losses were staggering, and alone, we who were the mightiest cannot recover.
'Already Chakkadom is spread thinly, and our numbers gradually dwindle, for we are slow to bear young. I think that this War has sounded the death knell of the separate Chakka Kindred, and to survive, the Five Kith must become but one. Accordingly, I have sent out the word of our… victory- hot only to Mineholt North, where my trothmate Rith and the families of my warriors even now prepare to join us, but also to the other Chak Kindred both near and distant, asking any who would come to do so.
'I brought you here, Friend Perry, to show you that Ryng, to show you that symbol of our dream: five stars upon a perfect circle. But I also wished to show you the cost of that dream-for as it can be with each great dream, sometimes the cost to the dreamer is staggering.
'All dreams fetch with a silver call, and to some the belling of that treasured voice is irresistible. And in many quests, the silver turns to dross, while in others, it remains precious; but in the harsh crucibles of some quests, the silver Is transformed into ruthless metal. Such was the case with bom of our dreams, Waeran, yours and mine: we answered to the lure of a silver call, but found instead cruel iron at quest's end. Yet what is done is done, and we cannot call it back, we cannot flee into yesterday.
'That does not mean that it is wrong to dream, nor does it mean that one should not reach for a dream. But it does mean mat all dreams exact a price: sometimes trivial, sometimes more than can be borne.
'Some dreams are small: a garden patch, a rosebush, the Grafting of a simple thing. Some dreams are grand: a great journey, a dangerous feat, the winning of a Kingdom. And die greater the dream, the greater the reward-yet the greater can be the cost. One cannot reach for a dream and remain unchanged, and that change is part of the cost of the dream. But when events go awry and disaster strikes, each of us who dreams must not let his spirit be crushed by the outcome.
'A person can be safe and never reach for his dream, never risk failure, never expose his spirit to the dangers inherent, but then he will never reap the rewards of a dream realized, and he might never truly live.
'Friend Perry, you reached for your dream, you grasped it, and held on to the very end. You found that the cost was high-higher than any of us had anticipated. And now you would go and rest and be at peace, and I believe you should. But do not hide away and brood, and fester, and become small in spirit; instead, rest, and reflect, and grow.'
Durek then fell silent. And as the Sun passed beyond the zenith, Perry and the Dwarven King sat upon the Mountain Throne, and together they watched the Ring fade from sight- and as the glitter dimmed, the grasping bitterness gently fell away from the Warrow's heart, though the deep sadness remained. After a while, they stood and walked in silence back into Kraggen-cor, closing the bronze door behind.
The next morning. Cotton and Perry prepared to leave. They would head back through Kraggen-cor to Dusk-Door, and Silverleaf would go with them: Shannon was to be their guide through Lianion to the place called Luren. And as the Warrows prepared, so did Lord Kian; in the company of the Elves of Darda Erynian he would go east to the Rissanin River and then northeasterly to Dael, returning to Riamon and his Kingdom.
At last all was ready. Perry and Cotton, Shannon and Kian, all stood with Durek in the Great Chamber of the Sixth Rise. None knew what to say, for it was a sad moment. The Man looked to the center of the hall, to a white stone tomb-a tomb upon which lay an unadorned blackhandled sword of Riamon-a tomb wherein Prince Rand had been laid to rest in honor. And tears sprang into Kian's eyes. Durek followed the young Lord's gaze and said, 'Your brother died in glory and is the only Man ever to be so honored by the Chikka.'
