Near mid-day, the elves caught their first sight of Filne-Semmit. After leaving the Fdhellin Plains, the land had grown gradually hilly, slowly rising higher in elevation. Now, at last – after making their way up a steep incline of switchbacks – they had reached the height of the largest hills and saw the city sprawled out before them.

It was not exceptionally large, as cities go, but had an impressive appearance – especially when Joenek compared it to La'el and Gallimna. Beyond the vast expanses of farmland stood a low wall covered in trailing vines. Over this, various buildings could be seen; elegant in design and appearing to lack any defensive structure.

However, it was the wall of pale blue stone and the citadel beyond it that truly captured Joenek's attention and admiration. It was the cynosure of Filne-Semmit, indeed of nearly the whole of the Western Region – being surpassed only by Rimmár Villelle in the forest of Dhredán.

While it was not immensely expansive laterally, the keep had been built to a great height. Frabjous, spiraling towers seemed to defy the laws of gravity, jutting into the sky above like so many arrows piercing the cerulean cloaks of Akkheron's advisors.

"It's quite the spectacle, eh?" Marrik glanced at Joenek with a small smile.

"Uh...yah; it's...I've never seen anything like it. The only times I left Vel Siron were for training in the mountains to the northwest. We usually only saw a few small villages on those trips."

"Then you are seeing all manner of new sights."

Joenek nodded, eyes still glued to the citadel of Filne-Semmit.

"I remember when I first came to Gael-Narenth. It was all so different from what I had known; so full of life and wonder. I thought I had passed from this world and entered into the heavens."

Joenek looked to Marrik. His face was slightly clouded, as dark memories flooded his thoughts. When the scholar realized that he was being watched, the roth shrugged.

"Oh, hadn't you heard? I was born in Shikkresh, quite near the Villaearan Ocean, on the northern edge of Si-ol."

Joenek flinched. Marrik nodded his head in understanding.

"That's the typical reaction. I was met with hatred everywhere I went; until one day, Torben found me attempting to steal scraps from one of the bakeries in Rialle. I was only a boy of thirteen summers, then. Suddenly someone stood behind me, and I heard a strong voice asking the baker, 'Tell me, good sir, what is your finest bread?'

"I was so startled I nearly jumped out of my skin. I decided to wait and pretend to be looking for just the right thing, until the roth left. However, after purchasing two of the freshest loaves, the elf looked around, as if frustrated. As his eyes landed upon me, he smiled and said, 'You there, lad, might you help me. I'm in quite the predicament, you see; I've gone and bought too much. I don't want such good bread to go to waste. Please do me the honor of taking one of these.'

"And then Torben took me to his own home, introduced me to Yena, and taught me about Feridh. I have been a member of the Ferlian Order for six summers now – one must have at least seventeen summers to be in The Order – and continue to visit Torben and Yena whenever I can."

Joenek took in all that Marrik had told him. After a moment, he turned to the scholar with a wide grin.

"If Torben likes you, then you must be a pretty good roth. I don't care where you lived or what you did in the past. You're here now, and that's what counts, right?"

"Thank you." Marrik stretched his arm out and grasped Joenek's shoulder. "I should like to count you among my friends."

"Count away...I don't mind being one of your friends."

For the next half-and-one hour, the two elves talked of many things concerning their journey. Marrik told of his encounter with the Bekhron, after which Joenek shared his own experience with the beasts. They spoke of their various skills; Joenek of his training as a ranger and Marrik of his countless studies. Joenek found his mind swimming at the topics Marrik spoke of. He understood little of what was said; which only seemed to please the scholar and inspirited a need to speak further – to give explanations which only baffled Joenek more.

This must be what Edileth was complaining about, he thought with humor. Joenek, however, enjoyed listening to Marrik.

At last, the elves came to the edge of Filne-Semmit; along with around one hundred other refugees fleeing from the Western borders of Gael-Narenth. There were countless elves coming and going through the gates of the city; many wary-eyed and gaunt.

As they drew nearer the citadel, Joenek saw Eb-dae positioned at regular intervals upon the wall, interspersed with the ordinary elvish guards.

"Hmm...they've increased their guard numbers; even throwing a few extra Eb-dae into the mix. That's a sure sign of a looming war if ever there was one."

Marrik shifted in the saddle, casting nervous glances above.

"Are you okay?"

Joenek noted the scholar's unusual behavior and bore a perplexed expression.

"Yes, I simply don't do well with large crowds. They make me quite uncomfortable."

That's strange, I would have thought he'd love crowds; he could talk about his studies, all day, to loads of elves.

"I'm pretty sure Enári feels the same way."

Joenek chortled upon seeing the blonde. Marrik turned to follow his gaze and smirked.

Edileth's shoulders were drawn up, nearly touching the base of her ears, and her entire body was tense. She flinched as a young roth leapt from atop a short ladder and landed directly beside her mule.

"She's not exactly good at being sociable, is she? I think Enári may even have it worse than me."

The two rothni chuckled.

After some time, the Ferlians and their refugee companions brought Jich to an infirmary to be cared for. Once he was settled, Torben informed the others that his "family" would be making for the citadel, wherein his brother dwelled. The hannorim then beckoned Kidh and a select few to draw near. When they stood before him, Joenek heard Torben speak of the Ferlian Order.

"Within the walls of the citadel you will find the Hall of Feridh. Therein, Ferlians gather to learn of and worship the Creator. There are many elves there who can further teach you about His ways. You will be welcomed gladly. However, those guarding the gates of the keep may give you trouble; simply tell them that Torben has sent you to gain knowledge from Elder Hruban."

"Torben?" Kidh asked in a near-whisper.

"That is the name they will know me by. It comes from the name of the ancient hannorim Torbedhnik.

"And now, we really must be on our way. May Feridh bless you and others through you. Live well Kidh, Maeár, Fírendil, Shoreff; and may we meet again."

With that, the Ferlians left the company of the refugees. However, Joenek noted that Edileth had brought Sheem alongside her. The others did not seem to notice the youth, or else they didn't care.

After some time of jostling through the crowds, the elves drew near the blue walls. A large gate stood open, though attended. The Ferlians dismounted and a sentry stepped toward them to question their purpose in entering the keep.

"I am Torben, and we are members of The Order, here to speak with the Elders Raemille, Yenish, Umar, Brodhen, and Pír. We are expected."

The elven guard nodded and gestured for them to continue.

As the Ferlians entered the citadel's gates, Joenek found himself nearly spluttering in wonder. An extraordinary garden lay before them.

Walkways crossed the manicured grasses, and little places of respite were placed hither and thither – some under arches covered by grape vines, others covered only by the sky above, and others still, nestled within rings of Gherilmar trees. In the center of the garden was a fountain that appeared to be made of glass. Water burst from its highest spire with a merry tune, splashing upon the lower tiers with shimmering glints of colour.

A young lad stepped before them, offering to take their horses, mule, and the Lupak to the stables. Torben handed the reins of his mount to the boy, and Yena followed suit. Joenek joined Celik, Rikku, Marrik, Edileth, and Arun in tying their mounts to the lead horses. Once this was finished, the young elf led the two strings of equine – four on each side – to the stables. The Lupak followed by order of Rikku.

The Ferlians then followed Torben into the keep itself, working their way through countless grand halls bustling with all manner of elves; some were messenger lads, others were dignitaries, or rothnash carrying platters of food to some hall or another.

As they passed the latter, Joenek found his stomach twisting uncontrollably in the pangs of hunger. He sniffed the air, detecting countless tantalizing scents. Without conscious thought, the roth found that he had started licking his lips. Clenching his fists, Joenek tried to ignore the gnawing sensation in his gut.

After some time – and so many turns that Joenek knew he would never find his own way out – the Ferlians moved down a narrow hall and came upon a small door at the end. As they entered, Joenek felt an overwhelming sense of being out of place.

Within the mid-sized chamber and seated around a large, though elegant, stone table were five aged elves. Each looked nearly as pious as Edileth had when they first met. As he saw their luxurious robes in rich hues of crimson, green, and blue, Joenek became painfully aware of how unkempt he must appear in tattered clothes, reeking of sweat and dust.

"Torben," stated the roth in the center, "we are satisfied thou hast managed to arrive, at last."

"Our journey has been most arduous, but Feridh be praised, we have escaped many a trial and arrived with the Hibh en Gredhe."

"We trust thou hath good explanation for the additions to thy numbers."

"Verily, Fíth Yenish; all in due time. Prithee, might I make a request of the Council, first?"

The five glanced to one another with pursed lips and raised brows. At last, the elf to the far right – the only female – stood with an air of authority.

"Very well, Torben; what dost thou wish?"

"Forgive me Fíthna Raemille, but we have journeyed hard – and some of us from quite far. We are covered in the road's filth and have gone without food for nearly an entire day. Might I suggest we discuss the details after a wash and a good meal?"

As if in eager agreement of Torben's words, Joenek's stomach gave a noisome growl. Embarrassment coursed through him as all eyes turned in his direction. Laughing nervously Joenek said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm pretty sure your Lords- and Ladyship would prefer us clean and fed; we'll smell better and be a lot more focused on all the, uh, 'details'."

The roth felt akin to a disease-infested rat as the elders looked upon him.

"Forgive him, Fíthni; Joenek is quite unaccustomed to our ways. He has no knowledge of courtly manners and meant no offense."

Torben gave a slight bow as he explained. Joenek saw Edileth glaring at him, her usual scowl in place.

"Joenek, was it?" the roth just left of center asked. After Joenek gave a cautious nod, the elder continued. "Step closer that we may put forth a question."

When Joenek stepped toward the oval table, the elf to the left of Raemille stood and seemed to inspect him before speaking.

"Thou hast not given thyself to Feridh. Why, then, dost thou travel with His children?"

"Umm..." Joenek was momentarily confused by the roth's formal wording. "Well, it's because I have this."

And with that, Joenek pulled his pack from his shoulders and, thinking of the Gredhe, drew the Orb from within.

Gasps erupted from the aged elves, and Joenek saw Torben cringe. Once again, he had done the wrong thing.

"How darest thou give possession of the Hibh en Gredhe to one such as him." The elf on the far left, old though he was, leapt from his seat with fury in his features.

"You were ever a careless one, Torben. What, in Feridh's name, possessed you to allow such a thing?" Raemille looked rather like a mother disappointed in her child.

In that moment, the hannorim turned suddenly pale and stared ahead with blank expression. He then closed his eyes and Yena moved to place an arm around her husband as he began to sway.

Edileth soon stepped forward and helped the healer steady Torben, while Arun took a chair to him. Shaking, the hannorim sat down. After a few moments, he sat a little straighter and addressed the elders.

"Prithee, forgive me..."

"No, Torben, forgive us. We reacted with undue haste. I know thou wouldst never choose to cause harm to any of elf-kind. We shall discuss this later; after thou hast had food and rest. Go now, we shall send for thou and thine companions in some time."

Raemille motioned for a page to step forward.

"Please, ensure that each receives a room, fresh clothes, and a decent meal."

With that, the Ferlians were ushered out of the council chambers. Yena and Edileth continued to aid Torben, despite his protests of being well enough to walk on his own.

Joenek sighed as he followed the others.

Once again, I've managed tomess everything up.