NIENNAH, "BLACK RING"
Pavel Kojev
Begin of "Ni-Black.Txt"
NIENNAH
THE BLACK RING
I
"It was raining in the city, steadily and hard. My cloak was wet
from that midnight rain. I was walking down a long long deserted
street, plunged in my solitude - lonely, alone.
All of a sudden in front of me I saw a man mighty and tall,
cloaked in black. A dead silence was in the street save for the
sound of heavy footsteps. As if being bound by an invisible chain
to the man, I followed him until we two came to a waste land,
murky and gloomy. I beheld there seven shapes, clad in sable,
dark as the night. An idle thought entered my mind: they should
be nine. At the very moment, as the rain stopped, the nineth came
slowly out of the gathering darkness. Even before I saw him I
felt his presence as a deepening of shadow and a feeling of pain
and despair. Black mantled he was, and a crown of steel was he
bearing, yet his face I could not see save only for a deadly
gleam of eyes.
I stood motionless, watching. The dark Lord approached. In a
voice full of power and majesty he addressed his companions:
- Now, are the nine of us hither?
- We are ten, Lord, - replied the one whom I had followed. Then
all the Nine turned to me, and their Lord spoke:
- Who art thou and how darest thou come hither?
Their eyes pierced me like blades of ice, it hurt horribly and I
did reply.
- Havst thou come to hinder us? Begone, then, if thou be not
deathless, for no living man may stand in our way in time of our
haste.
- Take me with you, Lord, - I pleaded, - for long before I come
here I did understand your world is where I belong.
And images strange but not alien passed before my inward eye: the
Ash Mountains and the Mountains of Shadow and a city gleaming
with deadly light and the flowers oh the flowers the asphodels -
- The asphodels of Minas Morgul, - came a whisper.
...and yeah the asphodels those shadowy meads filled with pale
white flowers luminous beautiful and yet horrible of shape like
the demented forms in an uneasy dream and brambles with thorns
like knives and towers strong and high and cruel pinnacles and
that proud and bitter iron crown of the tower -
- The Dark tower of Barad-DÙ r, - sighed the voice
...and the mists yeah, yeah the mists of land where the sun comes
never never but stars oh stars shine at night and ever ever the
darkness -
- The Land of Mordor where the shadows lie, - the voice was
dreamy and distant.
me with you Lord I will never regret I will never look back do
not leave me here - do not go away!..
But how - that is impossible, that should be a dream! - how can
it be that they are here? And... what for?
- Thy race peopled the Void with strange creatures, - replied the
dark Lord, - but you never understand what force doth a thought
have. The words have more value and power than you ascribe to
them. We are but materialised thoughts of thy kindred. Thou art
right to remember: once it was said any fantasy is but a glimpse
of other worlds, and true that verily is; only, our worlds are
more consistent. Of our errand hither naught will thou learn, but
hearken to what I say - thou shouldst remember...
I listened without trying to understand, the understanding will
come later. Try to remember - that voice, these words, just
remember these men for never in your life will you see them until
- until -
- Time hath come, - said the dark Lord. The Nine looked at me for
the last time. Out of the darkness the voice came, saying:
- The only thing thou canst have from us is a gift, which may
turn to be deadly and perilous for thee; but in this gift the
power and the force of thine will be.
- and an icy hand touched my brow, and something pierced and
burned my heart with deadly cold... -
As in a dark dream I saw them going into the night, and the world
was dimmed before my eyes, and their figures were as blood-red
shadows upon burning black, and though I hungered for going with
them I stood still as in a childish game when someone bids you:
Freeze! do not move! not a muscle! not a finger!..
And only my lips were slowly, slowly were forming the soundless:
oh, please, return, Lords, return for me - and take me with you...
I woke up in my own room. A strange, seemingly meaningless phrase
sounded still in my ears: throwing the coins in the wall thou art
lightning invisible candles; anything thou canst imagine already
doth exist somewhere...
The understanding will come later. Just try to remember.
I come up to my table and opened a book lying there: "Wide flats
lay on either bank, shadowy meads filled with pale white flowers.
Luminous these were too, beautiful and yet horrible of shape,
like the demented forms in an uneasy dream..."
A dream, was it not?
My black cloak, wet from that midnight rain, was carelessly
placed on the chair.
And now I do realise what was the gift they gave to me."
II
She put the manuscript, written in nervous hand long ago, on the
table. She was decided. She was leaving - yeah, stepping over the
threshold, because the due time was come, - without explaining
anything. Will they ever perceive what was her life like - how
does it feel when nothing is left, when everything is taken away
but for this darkness and bitter pride - who will be able to
understand her phrase about that Strawberry Glade - her poems -
who might learn what was hidden from everyone for long long
years: all dread, all pain, all anguish, which led her to cold
hatred, to despair - and - finally - to everlasting Night?...
No one.
Does this matter?
Nay, no longer.
She put her black clothes on the washing machine with the care
unnecessary now. She had clean everything in the house, arranged
all the things in order, though it meant nothing from now on.
She lit the candles and plunged herself into the bath. A nice
thing, so very theatrical! but no longer was she afraid of that.
The water was so sweet, so warm, it caressed her skin so softly,
soothingly, delicately, delicately... She allowed herself that
last pleasure of staying for a while unmoving in the deep
greenish delicate substance. Just for another minute. Then
slowly, unhurriedly, she took a sharp steel razor-blade and with
a little smile pressed it to her arm where the veins showed as
thou painted with tender blue, and pulled it. The pain was sharp
and piercing. But soon it faded, dissolving in the warmth of the
water. The last, and the least pain she experienced in this
world. She smiled again. Soon everything would be gone. Dark
undead for years, at last she made the final step towards the
Almighty Night. She new not any prayers but softly, slowly and
silently, until it became too hard even to move her lips, she
went on whispering: "Verily I come, I come to Thee, Lord of
Darkness..."
The silence undisturbed: she had stopped the pendulum of the
clock in the kitchen. Time no longer ment anything for her...
She opened her eyes with the last effort. Candles she no longer
saw, the world was dimmed before her. So that is the end. How
marvellous, how tranquil, how merciful... The stream of thoughts
slowered, she was falling... falling... or - flying?..
The door flung open. "Hi!" - shouted the girl, coming in. "Where
are you - or should I say, where art thou?"
No reply. All was dark. She lit the lamp: not a sound. Then
slowly, slowly, the girl moved to the bathroom...
Never in her life was she, who was lying there in the water cold
and brown with blood, so delicately beautiful: her face pale and
glowing with unworldly, unearthly light, her white lips slightly
apart, bearing on them a smile of deep inner content, her ebon
wavy hair soaked in water, darkness staring from her wide open
eyes...
The girl screamed piercingly, like a wounded beast!
III
The sight was slowly returning to her. She realised she had been
sitting with her eyes wide open for a long long time. She heard
the sound of water running, and knelt, and looked at the image in
that black mirror of a creek... A face fair and perilous, hair
silver - white, eyes bright and luminous and deep emerald -
green. Is that me? She wondered. Yes, why should I ask? But a
faint memory from another age of another world passed through her
mind: eyes desperate, green with the green of withering leaves,
hair ebon and wavy and wet, carnations in pale delicate hands...
Carnations? What were they? She new not a thing with such a name.
No longer.
She struggled to her feet, and walked across the shadowy mead
filled with pale white flowers, luminous, beautiful and yet
horrible of shape, like the demented forms in an uneasy dream. A
dark figure was waiting for her on the edge of the field: the
Lord of the Nine. Now she could see his face, grave and fell, and
filled with bitter pride, his eyes piercing like blades of ice, a
crown of steel on his silver hair.
- I have been long waiting for thee, Lady Eavil, - he said
solemnly.
Lady Eavil... yes, so that was her name.
He lifted his hand, and, as he pointed to the tower far in the
east, webbed in mists, with its proud and bitter iron crown, she
noticed a great amethyst - sparkling, gleaming with inner fire -
set in the ring on his finger.
- Come hither with me. The Dark Lord is waiting thee.
He threw a heavy black cloak on her shoulders. Without looking
back, she followed him... A shadow of something long forgotten
passed through her mind, fading away - fading away - fading...
IV
Eyes desperate, green with the green of withering leaves, hair
ebon and wavy and wet... What could that girl have in common with
me - with Lady Eavil, a merciless spirit of the Land where the
Shadows lie, a servant of the Dark Lord? But some feeling subtle,
yet powerful, hindered me, and I stopped by her, unnoticed,
unseen: a shadow of another world. Her thoughts I could perceive
easily: Where should I seek consolation she asked herself.
Mockingly, I replied: in the Temple of thy God!
Will I find rest there? - she was not a bit surprised.
No, thou will not, I said.
Is there Eden and Hell in that other life?
Some strange felling - "de{jÁ vu" - passed through my mind...
Yes, - a faint whisper, a sigh, - but only hither, on Earth. In
that other life there is no Eden for thou, and no Hell, and no
Death, but the life eternal. Be not afraid of stepping over the
threshold when the due time cometh.
What will happen to me? she asked.
And all of a sudden I understood what will befall. I saw that
soon, so soon after a glitter of happiness she will pass into
unending pain, and come to hatred and bitter pride, and will
become dark undead, a shadow of despair; that one day she will
open a book and read about these shadowy meads filled with pale
white flowers, luminous, beautiful and yet horrible of shape,
like the demented forms in an uneasy dream; and she will realise,
this is her ain country, the land where she belongs. And she will
step over the threshold and walk into the night down the long
long deserted street, plunged in her solitude - lonely, alone,
and it will be raining in the city steadily and hard, and her
black cloak will be wet from that midnight rain...
What will happen to me, she repeated.
And there was no answer.
The End of "Ni-Black.Txt"