Hamel tipped his waterskin back and took a long drink, careful not to spill even a drop. After nearly two days in the wilderness, his feet ached. He had found the occasional spring or creek and had topped up his water supply, but most of the wilderness was dry and empty. It had been years since he had been that far east in the wilderness. He had studied maps of the area and was familiar with the lay of the land, but his knowledge of the area was based on what he had memorized, not recent experience.

He did, however, know there was an oasis hidden in the hills and crevices of the land ahead. He had to be careful for fear of missing it. He would need the chance for refreshment and to get some fruit which grew on the trees in that area.

Hamel's eyes scanned the area for what felt like the hundredth time, looking for the landmarks he had read about. Aside from traders traveling to and from Olmos, few traveled so far to the east. Often their descriptions of the area contradicted one another. He had gone over the notes of everyone he could find, but he was still not sure where the oasis might be.

As he crested a small hill, his eyes landed on a large rock, shaped somewhat like a fist sticking out of the ground. It had been named, The Hand in the Wilderness. The name was far from creative, but it was accurate.

Hamel shook his head and turned back. The Hand in the Wilderness was a helpful landmark, but it was on the far side of the oasis. He had missed his objective.

He turned around and tried to remember all the landmarks for finding the oasis from the other direction. He had paid equal attention to those details and hoped he could find his place of rest.

As he picked his way through the rocks and hills, his mind went to how far he had fallen. He was intent on returning one day to the Ridge Capital and regaining his honor. He would not meet his end in disgrace. He had more to accomplish.

He wandered through the rocks and crevices and began to wonder if he had, yet again, missed the oasis when he smelled the scent of wet soil. He was close. He searched and found a small crevice that led into an area where the air was moist. With each step leading down, the sound of rushing water grew louder. He had found the oasis.

At the bottom, he stepped into a small valley. He could see why he had missed it. It was long, but not very wide. He thought from above, walking through the wilderness, the oasis would look like a deep crevice and something to avoid. Unless explorers were to come to the very edge of the crevice and look down, it would appear to be of little interest.

The river ran through the center of the small area. He followed the flowing water upstream with his eyes and saw it poured out of a small cave. Looking downstream, he saw the rushing waters disappear into yet another small cave, flowing deep into the earth. The entire area was green. It was a stark contrast to the wilderness above.

The oasis itself had eight or nine trees, all of which were fruit bearing. Just the sight of the trees put Hamel's heart at ease. The trees, the sound of the flowing water, and the smell of life calmed his heart. He found a tree with low hanging fruit and picked a few apples.

Hamel sat on the grass next to the river and leaned back against a tree. The apples were just shy of being ripe and still had a bitter flavor, but it felt good to eat the fruit.

Hamel closed his eyes and relaxed every muscle he could. It had been many days since he had truly rested. He thought the last time was just before his meeting with Mariel in the courtyard.

Every muscle in his body ached. The last two days, he had ignored the pain and focused his energy on finding the oasis, but the journey through the rocky wilderness had taken its toll. His legs were sore, his feet covered in blisters, and his back hurt even when he sat still.

His mind, however, remained on Mariel. With his eyes closed, he could see her weep, and his ears still rung with the sound. He shook his head and tried to force the image out of his mind, but the memory of her pain was too much to bear.

Hamel felt himself slip into a familiar depression. So much had been lost.

He had lost his beautiful Lillel. They had only been married six years when she had died. She should have lived another seven or eight before the Dusk took her. He had lost her so young. He had lost his beautiful Keptel. She had been four years old. If she had not died, she would be twenty-two and married. He had lost his fearsome little Draggel. He would have been nineteen. If he had not died, he would have been advancing up through the ranks of whatever his chosen profession might have been. At nineteen, he might even have been looking for his Matir's blessing for his future wedding.

The grief and pain washed over him for what seemed to be the millionth time. He still could not believe his wife and children were gone. Eighteen years and he longed for them every day. The longing was second only to the sense of guilt. He had never admitted it to anyone, but he could no longer remember their faces without a photo in front of him.

He had spent many years since the accident doing his best to be strong. He had presented himself as someone who could rise above the pain. He had shown himself as a man who could not be deterred from his mission, not even by the deaths of his entire family.

Hamel collapsed onto the grass and wept. He had not cried like that since he was a child.

He felt empty and alone. He so desperately wanted Lillel by his side. He so desperately wanted his children in his arms. He so desperately wanted to stand with his adopted daughters. He longed for his lost adopted son. He yearned to hold his daughter's children.

He thought of poor Mariel, and the image of her tears invaded his thoughts once again. He could not believe what he had put her through. He had felt he had no choice, yet there was always a choice. He had thought there had been no other way, yet perhaps he had not looked hard enough.

He lay on the ground and wept, his shoulders heaving up and down with each sob. He called out his wife's name, his children's names, his children's children's names.

He hoped to see them again. He hoped to return and regain his position as an Honored Patir and be welcomed back into their lives. He wept until he had no tears left and fell asleep.

* * *

When Hamel awoke, it was dark. He could hear the sounds of some of the animals in the wilderness but was shocked to think not one of them had accosted him while he had slept. He ate another apple, drank from the stream, and sat back down on the grass.

He felt lighter. It was as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders. His family was still dead. His son and daughters were still lost to him. His honor was still gone. But he had needed to weep. He smiled as he realized that letting go no longer seemed impossible.

He took a few moments and did something he had never done before. He said goodbye to his wife, his daughter, and his son. He spoke out loud and confidently. It was time to move on. He said goodbye to his adopted son as well. He longed for Lemmel and still struggled to believe the man had betrayed the People of the Ridge, but it did not matter. Lemmel was his son, and the offense no longer mattered.

He did not say goodbye to his adopted daughters, their families, or Lemmel's living wife and children. He would return, and he would regain his honor. He would take his place once again in their lives. He was reminded of his resolve and committed that he would not give up. He would regain his honored title of Rezin and once again be Honored Patir Rezin Hamel.

"I am not alone!" Hamel declared, speaking loud enough for his voice to echo off the walls of the oasis. "I will regain my honor!"

"It's true, Honored Patir," a voice said behind him. "You are not alone."

Hamel jumped to his feet and pulled out his knife. He stood facing the direction from which he had heard the voice.

In the darkness, it was difficult to make much out in the oasis. While the moon and stars were out, what light they offered did not easily find its way to the oasis floor.

He could, however, see the one who had spoken to him. Sitting on the grass about four paces away, was a man. His face was shrouded under the hood of his cloak, and a rifle lay across his knees.

"I also suspect, Honored Patir," the man continued, "that you do not have honor to regain. Only the title is missing."

"Honored Patir?" Hamel asked as he slid his blade back into its sheath. It was not necessary to hold a knife while the man held a gun.

The man who sat before him was from Ridge, unless he could disguise his voice. Few Olmosites could master a Ridge accent. But if the man were from Ridge, he could have been away for a time. He might not have heard of Hamel's fall.

Hamel continued, "Perhaps you are not familiar with the events of the last number of days. I am no longer an Honored Patir. I have been disgraced."

"I had heard something of the sort, Honored Patir," the man replied.

"Then you know that you should call me Hamel," Hamel said. He could not imagine what might be happening. The man was speaking to him with respect and giving him honor, yet he deserved none. That kind of thing was unheard of. Hamel wondered if the man might be mocking him.

"I know the people demand you be called 'Hamel,' yet I have always struggled with certain demands. Let the Council and let the People of the Ridge see you as disgraced, but I see you as honored. I will call you Honored Patir, and I think it wise for you to believe it is true."

The man set his rifle aside and pulled back his hood. Hamel could not make out his face in the darkness.

The man added, "Please, Honored Patir, sit down," and pointed to a tree just a few steps from where he was sitting. "I will not hurt you. Sit there across from me and lean back against the tree. It will ease your sore muscles and help you relax."

Hamel accepted the man's invitation and sat down. Once he was leaning against the tree, he saw a small pile of fruit on the ground next to him. He picked one up and found it to be smooth with a stem at the top.

As if the man could read his mind, he said, "They are a strange fruit. They only grow here in the oasis, up among the bushes along the walls. They are sweet and plentiful and grow all year round, although this time of year they are the most flavorful. I don't know what others call them, but I decided to call them charis. Have as much as you want. I have plenty."

His first reaction was to set aside the fruit. He did not know the strange man, nor did he trust him. It could be poisonous. After a moment, he discarded the thought. The man could have shot him with the rifle if he wanted Hamel dead. There would be no one nearby to hear.

Hamel turned the fruit over in his hand and examined it as well as he could in the darkness. It did not appear to have a peel, and he took a careful bite. It was sweet, and it was different than anything he had ever tasted. He felt refreshed but remained on guard.

"May I ask who you are?" Hamel asked.

"Absolutely," the man replied.

Hamel waited for a response. The man sat still and took a bite of a charis fruit that had been sitting on a pile next to him.

Hamel smiled back. Somehow, he liked the man and appreciated the little bit of humor amidst a painful time. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mellel. I don't believe we've met, although I'm quite familiar with you," the man said.

"Not to sound arrogant, but most people are. Surviving the Dusk makes a man stand out," Hamel said.

"It's true," the man replied. Even in the darkness, Hamel could make out a large smile.

"How long have you been sitting here, Mellel?" Hamel asked.

"Oh, not too long. I saw you come into the oasis and stayed out of sight. I knew you needed a bit of time. I could tell you were carrying a heavy burden on your shoulders," Mellel explained.

"So, you watched me eat, drink, weep, and sleep?" Hamel asked, and the man nodded. "You don't think that's somewhat creepy?"

The man laughed, and the sound put Hamel's mind at ease. "I guess you could say that, although I meant only kindness. You needed the time. While you slept, I gathered some charis fruit, and I kept the animals away. They have not come near you."

"Thank you, Mellel," Hamel said.

"You're welcome, Honored Patir," Mellel replied.

"Please," Hamel said, "call me Hamel."

Mellel leaned back against his tree and laughed. "Call you Hamel? Why would I do that? You have forgotten who you are! You are Honored Patir Rezin Hamel, husband of Lillel, Patir of the two children born to you and your wife and adopted Patir of two daughters and a son. I think I'm the only one in the world who remembers who you are. If I stop calling you Honored Patir, who will remind you of your honor?"

Hamel felt the tears well up in his eyes and a heaviness on his chest. He lowered his gaze and took a few deep breaths to stave off the grief.

"Honored Patir, I watched you weep earlier. You cried like a baby, and did I mock you? Did I tell you to stop?"

"Well, you're kind of mocking me now," Hamel replied with a sheepish smile.

"Maybe, but you should feel free to weep before me. I am your friend."

"I am not only disgraced, but I am a wanted man. The soldiers have orders to arrest me. I broke into the Honored Matir's home," Hamel said. "Are you sure you want to be associated with me? It seems foolish to be my friend." He was enjoying the man's company, but he did not want to wear too many masks.

"I doubt that. I doubt that very much. I know Honored Matir Karotel. I may live out in the wilderness some of the time, but I'm not blind to all that goes on in the city."

"Fair enough, Mellel. Tell me, what are you doing out here?"

Mellel shifted on the ground and found a more comfortable spot. He pulled up a flask and took a long drink, set it down, and picked up another charis fruit. He turned it over a few times in his hands, examining every part of the fruit. Finally, he turned his gaze back to Hamel and asked, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, what are you doing..." Hamel began.

"I know what you said, Hamel. I'm just trying to be very difficult and mysterious with you. How am I doing?" Mellel asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Quite well," Hamel replied. "And I notice you called me Hamel."

"Yes, I guess I did. Perhaps a slip of the tongue or perhaps I'm just growing comfortable with you. All right. Here's the situation," Mellel said. "You asked what I'm doing out here. I'm simply not going to tell you. I do many things out here. I will tell you this, however: I've been waiting for you. I'm here right now at this moment to be a support to you and to make sure you are well equipped for the next leg of your journey."

"And what is the next leg of my journey?" Hamel asked. He could not imagine Mellel would know his plans.

"You're heading into the Olmosite lands," Mellel replied. "I suspect you'll try to find someone you know. You're probably going to try to track down Churoi. He was only nineteen when you last saw him, standing faithfully by Pulanomos's side. You're thinking he might still be alive. I would say you're going to go right to Pollos City and see if you can track him down."

Hamel struggled to understand how it was possible that Mellel could know his plans and asked, "How do you know all this?"

"I'm not going to tell you that, either," Mellel replied. "There are no more questions and no more answers tonight. I know you had a good rest already, but I suspect you are still tired. I have two mats in a small, dry cave, hidden behind two large charis plants. Come! Let us get some rest before tomorrow."

With that, he stood up, spit the seed from the charis fruit at Hamel, and walked off through the oasis toward one of the cave walls. Hamel felt the seed hit his leg and shook his head. The man was strange.

He climbed to his feet, grabbed his bag, and followed after the man. Mellel led him past two or three smaller trees and right up to a large bush. It was hard to see in the dark, but Hamel was sure he could make out small fruits in varying stages of growth.

When Mellel reached the bush, he used his arms to push aside a few leafy branches to reveal a small, dark opening on the cave wall. He slipped inside, headfirst.

The man's feet disappeared into the tiny cave. The sounds of Mellel moving and grunting as he scraped his way deeper into the rocks drifted out. Hamel did not think it wise to climb into a dark hole in the wilderness. He knew there were poisonous snakes and scorpions and did not care to disturb one. He also knew a cave could collapse.

It went against his better judgment, but he decided to trust the man. Mellel had a way about him, and Hamel felt he was willing to take the risk. He did not normally trust a man based solely on feelings, but he would this time. He knelt down and pushed his way into the hole.

Hamel's shoulders were broader than Mellel's, and he found the cave to be tight. He moved through the passageway, sliding on his belly. The rocks and the gravel below scraped his back, arms, chest, and legs. Although it was difficult to know in the dark, he suspected the cave reached four to five paces into the cliff.

A light appeared ahead, and Hamel assumed his new friend had lit a lamp. He pushed on and came to an opening. Hamel rolled out onto the hard ground and pulled himself to his feet. His feet and muscles had ached before, but his little climb through the cave had added scratches, cuts, and bruises.

The room inside the rock stood taller than either Hamel or Mellel's heads and at least three paces across. There were two mats, rolled up against the one wall, along with a small stove, a table, and two chairs. There were bookshelves in the room, with dozens of books, and for light, three lanterns hung from hooks and wires, coming down from the ceiling. Next to a cistern full of water was a shelf filled with fruits, salted meats, bread, and more. Mellel himself was slicing bread.

The man was well prepared for whatever he had in mind, and the cave was well suited for him. The walls were solid stone, and there was a small hole near the roof of the cave through which any smoke from the stove could escape.

Hamel could hardly believe his eyes. He had not known what to expect on the other side of that small passageway, but he certainly had not foreseen such a room. "Mellel, how long have you been living in the oasis?"

Mellel let out a small chuckle. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that sounds like a question, and you probably are looking for an answer. No more questions. No more answers."

The man turned and handed a slice of bread to Hamel along with a small piece of salted pork. Hamel thanked him and began to eat as Mellel pulled out the mats and spread each on the floor. One of the mats was right at Hamel's feet. Mellel walked around and blew out each of the three lanterns, plunging the room into darkness.

Hamel stood in the dark. He chewed on his bread and pork. He could hear Mellel crawling onto his own mat, and within seconds, the man's snores drifted through the cave. He was a strange man, but Hamel could not help but like him.

He finished off his small meal and lay down on the mat. He felt the safest he had felt since before his disgrace. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

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