Legends of Belariath
Soolana
SOOLANA'S GLEN
Across a continent filled with grief and gloom, Soolana stumbled along a rocky path. Gone was her home to the ravages of fire. Gone were her friends and family to the War of the Plague. Fatigue and loneliness drove her forward. Step by step, she pushed onward, the ravages of the plague too strong to combat on her own. She had been learning the healing arts from her mother. She pause time to time to touch an ailing plant on the way.
Hours seemed like days, a day dragged as a week yet she traveled through the bleak land, careful to avoid strangers who would most likely capture and hold a young nymph for various nefarious reasons.
She'd passed small cultivated plots of ground where humans were trying to eek out bare minimum nourishment from the earth. Finally, one day, the grasslands became greener. But, still she had not found the forest. Ahead, she could see tops of trees. With a squeal of delight she took off running eager to get to them. In her rush toward the trees, she only could see them. No longer looking downward, she ran. Straight off an unseen cliff.
She screamed hurling downward through the air. 'This is it' her brain screamed in pain. She felt like she was falling forever. “I came all this way to die broken at the bottom of a cliff.” The fall didn’t last forever only a few seconds. The surprise came when she hit not the ground but a large pool of water. And it hurt. A thousand needles shot through her back when she hit. Her breath was ripped from her lungs. She sank below the surface losing consciousness.
Hours later, she awoke. She looked up at the night sky and its twinkling stars. The shapes of the trees were blacker yet against the night sky. “I’m dead aren't I?” she whispered wondering if she dared to move. Her hands touched the grassy surface spread under as she lay on her back.
A voice not human but animal answered. “Did you think it would be so easy to die, young nymph.” She froze swallowing. The voice was close, real close. She turned her head slowly. She didn’t have to turn it far. Looming over her was the most gigantic set of antlers she'd ever seen. The dark round eyes studied her as she studied him. He had to be the biggest deer that she'd ever met. Almost black in color, a huge ruff of hair grew from his throat down his chest. Strong forelegs and hooves were bare inches from her face. “I am Maraukanisoon, the guardian of this glen.” His voice was deep, regal. He looked regal, a true monarch of the forest.
”Glen” she grasped the one word rising to sit. In front of her lay the pool. It really wasn’t that big. 'Just the right size' she thought. Raising her eyes, she saw the cliff. It wasn't that big either. Springing from its center an underground spring had emerged. The water trickled down the cliff's rocky face into the pool. As her eyes traveled over the pool, she noticed where it shot off into a brook. The soft sounds of its babbling over the rocks as it cut through into the forest around her. There were trees lots of them. A giant sycamore, a huge chestnut.
”Get up, young nymph,” Marau's voice sounded near her. “I am Soolana. That is my name,” as she rose to her feet.
”Then come Soolana.” The huge stag turned walking sedately toward the center of the glen. She followed. At the center of the glen was a fallen oak. Long gone from the earth, its mighty branches broken, its huge trunk covered with moss and mushrooms. The broken trunk housed a family of insects that buzzed in their activities.
”This is the center of the glen” Marau spoke slowly, “The old one fell during the storm.”
Her hand reached out to touch the bark of the tree. There was no life left and this made her sad.
”He was a wise tree this one” she whispered.
”He said one would come, and you are here.” said Marau.
”I am here? Why me?” she looked up in surprise at the huge stag.
”We do not question. The glen needs you, young nymph. Look around.” With a shake of his antlers, he turned to head off into the forest. “Stay Soolana. This is your new home.” It was all he said as he vanished into the trees.
She stayed. Since then, wild roses have sprung up to surround the glen. Their beauty unsurpassed in their colorful white pink centered flowers. The fragrance was heady on the night air. They ramble and twist together forming a formidable barrier of vines and thorns. They rise to touch the sky nearly seven feet in height. On the surface of the old oak, a vine emerged mingling with the trees and bushes, it blossomed for the moon. Dark blue purple flowers with cream throats, the morning glory streaks along the edge of the roses.”
Chapter 2