Togullen bent over his desk with quill in hand, writing by the yellow light of his lamp offering flickering flame. The visiting public had already left the Hall of Heroes and the doors barred. He used the opportunity to scribe more tales of Nusalle’s champions. What he did was of the utmost importance. His writings would leave a legacy, and a nation could never evolve unless built on the legacy of their fathers.
Rows of shelves filled the wall on his right lacked the stories of Nusalle’s greatest heroes. He paused from his scribing, looking aside at the enormity of the task. Already he has passed his middle years, making it an impossibility.
Best just write of the events of most significance.
An event came to mind. It happened years after Tonunda repelled the attack on the Dog tribe. Not long after, he rode from tribe to tribe collecting the support of each one, soon forging Nusalle into a nation to fight the Vindavians.
Andessa became his queen, and Zarnog stayed on as his adviser for a time, until her death. She had the foresight to organise a team of tutors for Tonunda. He learned to read and write, although he never learned to utter the words of men. His staff counselled him to move to the coast, most central to the largest concentration of Nusalle’s tribes. A city arose, with buildings, three, even four stories tall. Its people named the city Caliet, the capital of Nusalle.
One league inland from the water, the people even built a large structure of stone; a palace for their king.
Togullen dipped his quill in the ink pot. It is at the palace that the tale begins. An extraordinary story of when two of Nusalle’s mightiest champions met for the first time. I will name it…
ADOPTED AS SONS
It behooved Tonunda to have to dwell in the city, devoid of the trees, rivers, and mountains. Everything man made, had ugly well defined lines. To make matters worse, his vantage from the upper levels of the palace exhibited uninterrupted views of stone and timber structures going on for miles. Added to that, his staff heaped on burdens of having him dress regally to meet with his people and listening to endless planning in his war room. All this seemed to absorb his every waking moment.
A breeze picked up from the east, carrying with it the slightest hint of salt. He stared longingly in the direction, trying to alleviate his misery, by thinking of the benefits of his new life. Whenever he had the rare free moment, he would go to the west wall of the city, to stare at the distant mountains of his upbringing or go east to the port. When he first arrived in Caliet, he stood mesmerised by the enormity of the ocean. He never thought to see so much water. A further enigma intrigued him; up close it looked green, but out to the horizon it was deepest blue, like a Vindavian’s eyes. There too, he would while away free time in contemplation. Man could never taint the sea by building there as he did on land.