Why Aphelos came to be
At the sailing of the people of Ingos from the Enchanted Land of Aphelos, this tale ends; but this was by no means the end of the history of Ingos and his people; rather it was the beginning of a new history in the Midworld. And of this history many tales are told.
If any man ask, why the land of Aphelos came to be, and why the Fruit and the Tree came there; or why it was ordained that Ingos and the others should come there, and why they should become immortals, free from wants, hunger, thirst, pain, anguish, fear, and death; or why they were set apart from other Men like this; or why Aphelos had to fade, and the people of Aphelos to return to the Middle World: let him know that much is told of this; and more was known formerly, that now is forgotten.
All things decay and decline, say the Entellári, and to grow, to form, and to build, are to resist the Flow of Things. So Aphelos the Golden and Enchanted, favoured among earthly soils and set apart from the Middle World, is fated to fade at the last. Like Aphelos, the great World itself shall fade and, at the last, be unmade. At the last the fates of all men, it is told, shall be the same, People of Ingos with the Lesser, mortal with Immortal. So shall the judgement of the immortal be no other than that of the mortal, all weighed in the same scales. ‘But of what cometh after, let no man tell at this time,’ say the Entellári.
Now when Ingos and his people dwelt in Aphelos, a Messenger robed in white came to them, to tell them their true nature, now that they were born again. Just as Aphelos was formed to be the cradle of a people re-born, so the Messenger was a tutor to them, instructing them in the task to which they were re-born. But he did it only for this purpose: that they might go again to the Middle World, to dwell there the span of their allotted times, and to labour for the sake of men there. Thus, as they were exalted in nature, so they were abased in office; for they were to serve, aid, defend, and instruct the world; never might they command, compel, or strive, either with words or with weapons.
The Fading of Aphelos was foreseen from its Forming. Yet it was only in appearance that the Enchanted Land faded. The Land remained in substance, lost to the world. The Enchantment itself still lay upon the People of Aphelos; the memory was fixed in their minds; the spirit of the Realm of Dúmiel-in-Aphelos was carried in their hearts, and its aspect stamped upon their forms, for ever. ‘The Form departed, but the Substance remains,’ say the Entellári.
But though the Fading was seen from the start, the means by which it should come was not foreseen. But the pride and ambition of Nagbith, Heir of Negobith the Deceiver, was a likely means. The maiming of the Tree and the theft of the Fruit were a victory for Nagbith, but nevertheless he did not foresee that he was carrying out what had been ordained.
What has been written above is an unfolding, in part, of the meaning and import of the tale of Ingos and his people in Aphelos, given before.
Of The Midworld.
When Aphelos was not yet made, the world was simple in its shape.
The great land, which was called the Midworld, or Thrâyeldim, Soruval, or Dránadim, or Tesdámo, and many other names besides, lay, as its name suggests, in the midst of the earth. On each side there was an ocean, the Western Ocean and the Eastern Ocean, which marked the bounds of the Sun’s daily journey. In the far North, bounded by the icy northern sea, it was very cold. And in the south lay another sea that divided the Midworld from the hot desert lands of the South. The Hyûvandri (men and women) came, it is said, in distinct tribes from a southeastern land where the Midworld lay near to these hot deserts, and spread over all the southern part of the Midworld. There were in the north of the world at that time also both the great Gangri and the smaller Kabdath; but, until Negobith stirred up strife, they and the Hyûvandri did not trouble one another, for they lived where men preferred not to live.
Of Kûvassa.
The People of Ingos needed neither food nor drink, but they loved water and often drank it for the pleasure of its properties. They had no vessels or cups, for there were no made things in Aphelos, yet there were plentiful fleshy leaves in which water could be collected from the springs and fountains. And it happened one day that such a leafy vessel was left a while full of water and a golden fruit which had been plucked for some special purpose fell into it. And when folk went to retrieve the leaf full of water, behold, the water had a golden tinge; and when they tasted the water, it was fragrant and made the heart swell with the joy of Aphelos. And so the People of Ingos discovered the drink that they called Kûvassa, the Golden Drink.
And when they returned to the Middle World, they desired Kûvassa, that they might taste again the joy of Aphelos. In their exile they had vessels and cups like the mortals, though few and simple. So they filled vessels with water and, washing some of the golden fruit they had brought with them, placed them in it. To their joy, they found that the fruit, dry and hard though they were, still had the power to give Kûvassa to them. And when they gave it to the mortals whom they helped, it conferred upon them strength, resolve, and hope, when they were weak, irresolute, and despairing. And in this way too, they served the people.
They called the Golden Fruit Abrath Kúvë, Kúvi Abri, or Kûyabri.
Of the Wood of the Silver Trees.
The Staff of Ingos being of the wood of one of the everliving trees was endowed with more properties than any mortal could discover in one lifetime. Ingos had it perpetually by him in Aphelos. Hergal intended to steal it for his master, but dared not take it from Ingos’s side as he slept. In the long exile, the staff remained always in Díamána’s possession.
There were but two objects in the World which were of the everliving wood of the Silver Tree. The Staff of Ingos was the first. And long before had been fashioned the Brands of Kimenarthon, from which fire might be obtained by him who knew the rune. None would have presumed to make such a thing in Aphelos; but the Entellári formed them in the First Circle of the World.
Of the Tídhari.
When the People of Ingos were dwelling in the land of Aphelos, long before the treachery of Hergal, they formed a bond of love and friendship with the wonderful beasts whom they called the Tídhari. It came about in this way. One of the first children of the people, whose name was Emiô, was out walking with her friends in the woods. She became separated from them and lost her way. Now there were no evil places or beasts in Aphelos and there was no occasion for fear. But the child wondered where she was and by what path she would find her way home. Then from out of a thicket of trees there came a strange furry beast, the like of which she had never seen. Not knowing any better, the young Emiô spoke to the beast, greeting it in a friendly way. It did not respond with sounds, but came close and rubbed its head against her hands. Then it gently prodded her in a certain direction, and went with her along the way. Before long she found herself close to the dwellings of her people; but the Tídhar, rubbing its nose against her hands, left her and trotted back into the woods.
When they heard Emiô’s tale, her family and friends desired greatly to encounter the beast and to discover whether there were others of the same kind. They went to the same part of the woods, and called gently, and after many attempts, they coaxed the shy animals out of their dens. It is said that in size they were like great dogs, but in shape more like cats, but with little or no tail. Though very gentle, they were, as it afterwards proved, exceedingly strong, as strong as ponies. A child might easily ride on one, and they would suffer full-grown people, at need, to ride on them; and they could haul great weights. Swift as they were on the ground, the Tídhari loved to climb in the trees, and after they had come to dwell among the Aphelossamê, they loved to sleep in the branches of the Great Tree. And on the dread night of the betrayal and maiming of the Tree, it is said that Hergal menaced them and frightened them away, a thing that no man or woman had ever done before to any beast of Aphelos.
No one knew whence the Tídhari had come, or how they were born into the world. When the People of Ingos had won the friendship of the Tídhari, they gave them the fruit of the Great Tree to eat, and the Tídhari not only became friendly beasts, but were able to understand the speech of men, though they could not speak themselves, but responded with many low sounds and gestures that the people learnt to interpret. As the years passed, the People of Ingos crafted a special language in which they spoke with the Tídhari, which they called Tîdharutsi. And whenever they desired the help of the Tídhari, they spoke to them in this tongue, and only to the words of this tongue would the Tídhari give their compliance. And in the exile from Aphelos, no mortal could ever learn Tîdharutsi or command a Tídhar to serve them.
When the People of Ingos were about to depart from the Land of Aphelos, their friends the Tídhari were in great distress. But when they understood the people’s purposes, a number of them showed by their sounds and gestures that they wanted to go with them out of the land, to help them in their labours; while the remainder flocked around the Lord Ingos and Queen Díamun, to show that they would be their companions and comforters in place of the children who were gone.
Those Tídhari that went into the middle world, with the expedition of Díamána and her folk, accompanied the people on all their journeys and aided them mightily. They assisted in the hauling of stone for the rebuilding of Tídris (which some call Tídhris in their honour), and it was by the faithfulness of two Tídhari, whose names were Tevála Fianéllit and Ceóa Déanar, that Usta the Young was ransomed out of the power of the tyrant Nagbith, seed of Oigenas.
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