Sometime in the Fourth Age, southern lands of Middle Earth
“Why must you be so damn stubborn!” Earcalie was almost at her wit's end. Ristor and her had finally tracked down the secluded dwelling of the “oasis elves”, called Shonith in their strange dialect. Which was actually not much hard to interpret if one could derive the root of the words, which Ristor was much better at than the angry elleth. They had been staying at the oasis for a few days and for all intents and purposes the ellon should have been the one to speak to them. He did at first but for some reason, that day he stayed mostly silent, while an impatient Earcalie was trying to convince the Kintai (as they called themselves) leader to listen to Lord Cirdan's message at the very least.
Valar knew they were mule headed, a proper match for the noldorin elleth and perhaps, that was why Ristor let her do the talking that day. She could out-stubborn them. Their leader Dagortas kept her arms crossed and listened patiently to the other elf ranting like an immoble wooden statue
“Do you really like living like this? Watching your folk, your family, fade one by one and do absolutely nothing about it? We are telling you that you can save yourselves!”
“And I am telling you that this is our fate. We knew what we were getting into by refusing the summon of Taknûn the Hunter*. We are Tárthai: Those Who Remained. Your Blessed Lands are closed to us”
Earcalie shook vehemently her head “You are mules is what you are! You don't know if Valinor is closed to you, You are Quendi just like us so chances are you will be welcomed with open arms. Lord Cirdan--”
“I know. His name a few still remember” Dagortas sighed. “We understand that his is a gesture of goodwill and his concern comes from his heart. But he found his home long ago. We are Avabár-kinta: those without a home. We will not sail away”
“Seems to me the various oasis of this valley are your home and you are not really nomadic as you say. Maybe it is because you are tired of roaming? Or because you grew tired of nomadic life and want to settle down? Or because you realized that your fading is something that you could have prevented but are now too deep in your own self pity to get out of it!”
Earcalie put more emphasis on the last words of her sentence and she could have sworn that she saw something shift in the eyes of Dagortas, but a second later the Kinta elf returned to be imperscrutable. “We will not sail”. The tone was final and Earcalie thre her hands in the air, stomping away from the leader's dwelling and down to the pond's shore. She sighed and looked around. What are we doing here? What must we do to get these elves out of this place? She wondered. Tucking her legs under her chin, she took in the sight of the oasis.
Shonith was beautiful, there was no denying that. Lush vegetation of a bright green, colorful flowers, crystalline water and fireflies everywhere. But she knew that it was just a dot in a sea of sand, dust and degradation. The Kintai spoke of a curse that can't be reversed, some sort of blight that the elleth was sure to be connected to Sauron and these elves were simply too few to maintain the enchantment that keeps the oasis safe. It could have easily passed as one of the hallowed stops that elves of the Wandering Companies traversed on the way to the sea. Even their architecture had some similarities to that of their “northern cousins”. The wooden piers with carved swirls, the light blue fabric draped over branches and tents...
Yet the Kintai claimed to be nothing like her or her companion. At face value, sure a noldo and a sinda appeared much different than them, they had darker skin, used face paint, styled their hair differently and spoke a language of their own. Earcalie found very weird their custom of carving trees for the departed, to “tie their fear to their birthplace?” they called them Verothi*. She tried to tell them that there was no need for it, that their faded souls would go to Mandos like the other elves but again, Dagortas insisted that the Kintai are nothing alike.
“Contemplating your next insults?” her traveling companion joined her by the shore.
“Damn it all! I cannot make them see that we are not so different and that they too deserve a better end than this. But I am starting to think that this is all useless”
“Are you giving up?”
Earcalie frowned “I hate the thought. But what else can we do? Argue till the world ends? Sure I could do that. But nothing would change”
“Perhaps that is the way of it. Nothing has to change” he raised a hand “I know what you are going to say: but then what is the point? Why did Lord Cirdan sent us here to try and convince them to sail? Surely he must have known it to be a near impossible task. Well... I have no direct answer but I can speculate that as we end our time in Middle Earth, he felt nostalgic of what used to be and tried to salvage what he could. Hope is the last to die after all”
“But now we have to return and tell him we failed”. She gritted her teeth. Oh how she hate losing.
“I doubt he'd consider it a failure. We did what he asked. We tried and ultimately, it was the Kintai's decision. They decided to stay. I have to say though, it was pretty entertaining to see you and Dagortas fight with words”
The elleth splashed water at him. “Shush. She is a worthy opponent I will give her that... and because I respect her I'd rather depart while we are still in good standing, not enemies”
“Very well. We'll say our farewells and leave tomorrow if a---” a loud crack behind them made them both spin around, as a kinta elf emerged from a couple bushes. She was wringing her hands and whispered “I... I'm sorry... I did not mean to startle you... I was nearby and I heard you talking to... to...”
“Your leader? Well, we weren't exactly talking in hushed voices, I am sure most of Shonith heard us”
She hinted a smile and nodded, the many braids on her head falling on her face. “I wanted to say... that I was thinking... maybe you have a point”
the other two looked at each other. “My name is Awaen. I used to live in another oasis... but the evil men razed it to the ground... I have nothing left here but... your words lit a glimmer of hope in me. I want to leave my sorrow behind... can I join you... tomorrow? When you leave?”
Earcalie grinned and her face change expression from anger to a triumphant smile. It seemed that their mission was not a total failure after all.
“Awaen. Welcome aboard!”
translation:
*Taknûn the Hunter: the Vala, Orome
*Verothi: tombs
