Hamel awoke to the smell and sound of eggs sizzling on a grill. He turned over and in the dim light noticed Mellel's mat rolled up by the wall. The lanterns were all lit but turned down low.

He greeted Mellel with a "good morning," and the man smiled back at him. Mellel gestured toward the lamps, and Hamel assumed he meant he should turn them up. After he finished with the lamps, he rolled up his own mat.

Mellel pointed at one of the chairs at the table and scooped some eggs he had cooked out of a small pan and onto two small plates. The two sat down at the table to eat.

Mellel led them in a time of thanksgiving for the food. It was a custom Hamel had missed while spending time with Eddel. The criminal seemed less inclined to take part in matters of either tradition or faith.

They ate in silence at first. Hamel found himself lost in his own thoughts until Mellel interrupted his daydreaming.

"Stop thinking about your disgrace, Honored Patir," Mellel scolded. "There is nothing that can be done about that. It came as you knew it would. When you made up your mind to refuse Mariel's blessing, you decided on this result. Stop wallowing in grief." As if to drive home the point, he reached over and took some of Hamel's food right off his plate with his hand and shoved it in his mouth. It was an odd thing to do, but the man was odd.

"It is hard not to reflect on such things," Hamel said, drawing his plate closer to himself. He was hungry and didn't want Mellel to take another handful. "I have lived my life among a people who have always pursued honor."

Mellel stood up, walked around the table until he was near Hamel's plate, and took another handful, shoving that one in his mouth as well. Hamel couldn't help but notice the man's plate was nearly full and wondered if he could take food from Mellel.

Before he could act on that thought, Mellel said, "Hamel, look at me!"

Hamel looked up into the face of Mellel. It was the first time he had taken a serious look at the man in any kind of light. He was an odd looking fellow. His facial features were all either too large or too small. His hair was neither messy nor neat. His teeth were deeply yellowed, and his clothes were rags. The eyes, however, were clear and full of life. He had heard it said when he was a child that the eyes were the window to the soul. If that were true, Mellel's soul was deep and very much alive.

Mellel gripped Hamel's shoulder with one hand and said, "I have gained far more than you and lost far more than you, Hamel. Yet I am content. Believe me when I remind you of the truth you know. You may have been declared a disgrace among the people, but you do not stand alone. You face the world with many at your back, Honored Patir."

Hamel felt the man's words reach in and nourish his soul. His eyes welled up once again with tears, but not out of grief. He felt refreshed and stronger. He felt ready to move forward.

Mellel turned his attention to Hamel's plate. Abandoning any form of etiquette, the man began to eat off Hamel's plate with his hands.

"Are you hungry?" Hamel asked with a smile. "Would you like some of the food on my plate?"

Mellel stopped mid-bite and looked at Hamel in shock. "What a strange question? Of course I would like some of the food on your plate! I'm eating it right now. You should be able to deduce from that action that I want to eat your food. Do you think someone is forcing me to do such a thing? Do you think I would do this if I did not want to?"

Hamel's smile grew, and he said, "No, I suppose not."

He decided the best thing he could do was to eat at least a little more of what was left on his plate before it was all gone. He reached for some of the egg, but Mellel pushed his hand away. The man picked up Hamel's plate and walked out of reach as he finished off the last of the breakfast.

Mellel put the plate down on a counter and turned toward a corner of the room. He grabbed a bag and said, "It's time for you to go, Hamel. You have a long journey ahead of you. It'll take you until nightfall to reach the border, if you travel by horseback."

"Yes, I suspect you are right. On foot, I believe it'll take me closer to three days," Hamel replied.

Mellel's face filled with confusion, and he shook his head. "Yes, I suspect you are right about that. On hands and feet, I believe it'll take you close to twelve days. Would you like to tell me how long it'll take you if you dance there? Or perhaps if you roll there? Or maybe if you skip like a child all the way to Olmos?"

Hamel felt he should not answer those questions. He really did not understand the man. Instead, he turned and grabbed his pack and wandered over to Mellel's nearly full plate. He grabbed a few handfuls and shoved what he could in his mouth. When he finished, Mellel was grinning like a fool.

"There you go, Honored Patir! Now you're catching on!"

Hamel felt nothing but irritation at the man's response. He wasn't sure what he needed to catch onto but turned to the exit. He climbed into the cave. With the bruises and scratches from the night before, every move was agony, but he eventually rolled out into the oasis.

The way out of Mellel's hideout, although more painful, felt as if it took less time than it had the night before. When he emerged, he had to squint from the light of the sun. The valley was still bathed in shadow, but the light was brilliant compared with the darkness of the cave.

Mellel squeezed out right after him and took Hamel's bag from his hands. He wandered to the rushing stream and filled Hamel's waterskin along with another one. When they were filled, he handed both to Hamel along with the bag he had brought out of the cave.

"Open it!" Mellel ordered. "I'll take your cloak, and you take the one in the bag."

Judging from the condition of the cloak Mellel was wearing, Hamel did not think he would want whatever was in the bag, but he pulled the bag open. Inside was a light brown cloak in perfect condition. It was thin and ideal for the climate. It would keep the sun off his shoulders. It was an odd style, however. He had never seen a cloak designed in such a way.

"It's an Olmosite cloak," Mellel said in answer to the question going through Hamel's mind. "It's a riding cloak, too. It will allow you to sit on a horse without the sides riding up your legs too much. It'll also keep the sun off you. Since it's Olmosite, it'll help you blend in. They won't let you past the wall if they don't believe you are from Olmos."

Hamel's heart filled with gratitude toward the strange man. He had not yet figured out how he would get into Olmos. No outsider was ever allowed past the gate. The cloak would help. He was about to thank Mellel when he looked up to see his new friend offering him some papers.

"These will get you past any soldiers who wish to question you about your identity, or at least you should have a good chance of making it through," Mellel said. The moment Hamel took the papers, Mellel turned and walked toward the far side of the oasis.

Hamel followed, and the two jumped across the rushing stream at a narrow spot. Mellel led Hamel to a crevice in the rock. He stepped through, and Hamel was surprised to see a gate cutting off their path. His new friend opened the gate and led Hamel inside and around a corner.

Before he saw what was behind the gate, he recognized the smell of a stable. Mellel had horses. The man's comment about the time it would take to get to Olmos on horseback made more sense.

Both horses were saddled and ready to go. Hamel expected the man had been awake for some time that morning.

Mellel took each of the horses by the reins and led them out of the stable. He told Hamel to change his cloak and pointed to a path leading through the rocks. "When you're dressed as an Olmosite, meet me up there." With that, Mellel wandered up the path, leaving one horse behind.

Hamel changed into his new cloak and stuffed his old one in the pack. The night's rest, the food, Mellel's encouragement, and the new cloak left him feeling refreshed and at peace. He reminded himself of the words he had spoken many times, leading up to those days. "I am not without family. I do not face the world alone. I must continue. There is work to be done," but added in, "and I am not without honor." It felt strange to say such a thing, but Mellel's words gave him confidence.

He still felt the grief, pain, and confusion over the loss of his wife and children, but he felt as if he had a short reprieve from the weight of it all. He had work to do. He would not give up.

He mounted the horse and rode up the path. It wound around back and forth, but always moving upward. He could see the open sky above him as he made his way out of the oasis. The air grew warmer, and Hamel knew it would be a hot day.

Just before he reached the top, the rocks closed in over his head. When he finally exited the path, it was as if he had ridden out of a cave. The wilderness was barren and dead. It was hard to believe there was a thriving oasis hidden in the crevices.

Mellel sat on his horse a few paces away. He looked comfortable, yet impatient. Hamel rode to him, and the man pointed at his bag.

"Give me your old cloak. You won't want to ride into Olmos with a Ridge cloak in your bag. If it is discovered, you will be thought to be a spy," Mellel said.

"I'll just tell them I came from Ridge. They are allies of Ridge Nation. We are not at war," Hamel replied.

"Hamel, I think you'll be surprised at what you find in Olmos. We indeed have an alliance with them, but do you not think it odd that not even the Ridge Ambassador has made it past the wall?" Mellel asked.

"They are a private people, Mellel."

"That is true, Hamel. But do not think that my words are baseless. Where do you think I got that cloak?"

Hamel nodded his head. He had grown used to being the wisest around. Since no one lived as long as he had, and he had been a man of such honor, few questioned his words. He found the situation reversed with his wilderness friend. The man seemed to know and understand much that was new to Hamel. He wished he could spend a few days with Mellel, just asking questions and receiving answers, but the man gave no indication that he would tolerate such an arrangement.

Hamel reached into his pack and pulled out the cloak. He turned it over in his hands and examined the collar, the stitching, and more. It had been a gift from his daughters when he had turned forty-one years old. It was a high-quality cloak, but its real value to him was that it had come from them.

He handed it over. Mellel was right. He could not take chances. "I'd like to get that back from you when I return, Mellel."

"No. It is now mine," Mellel said.

Hamel assumed the man was joking and laughed, but from the look on Mellel's face, the man had no intention of returning the cloak.

"Give me your dagger as well. It is a Ridge blade."

"This dagger was a gift from Markel. He is like a son to me. He was my guard..." Hamel began. Once he knew he would not get the cloak back, he was hesitant to give up the blade.

"Yes, yes, yes. I know Markel," Mellel replied. "He is a strong, intelligent young man. I know the two of you were close. I know he looked up to you as though you were his Patir. I know the cloak came from your daughters. I know it all means a lot to you. Give it all to me, and it will all be mine. If you wish to have these things back one day, you may ask, but I make no promises." Mellel moved his horse right next to Hamel, reached over and began to untie the belt on which Hamel's blade hung.

Hamel pushed his hands away. "Alright! Enough. I will give you my blade, but you will not untie my belt. I am not a child who needs help getting dressed, nor am I in the final days of the Dusk and unable to care for myself."

He undid the belt and separated the dagger. He held it for a moment and let his thoughts return to the day Markel had given it to him, but Mellel reached out and took it along with the belt. Mellel reached into his own pack and pulled out another belt with a dagger attached.

Hamel accepted the belt and dagger and examined both. They were familiar to him. He had seen Pulanomos and Churoi wearing similar belts, and he had even had the privilege of examining Pulanomos's blade at one point. It was a high-quality blade. Pulanomos had often spoken of Olmosite workmanship. The blade Mellel had handed him was of great quality.

His admiration of the blade was interrupted by Mellel. "Hamel, I know the cloak you wore and the dagger you carried were of great sentimental value to you. I know it is difficult to give them up." The man reached over and put his hand on Hamel's arm before continuing. "That is why I have given you this cloak and this blade. Since they come from me, they will have significantly more sentimental value for you than anything your daughters or former guard could have given you. They are now special to you beyond measure, and you will doubtless treasure these gifts far beyond what you have given up."

Hamel opened his mouth to tell Mellel what he thought of such an idea, but he stopped. He could see the humor in the man's eyes. His new friend leaned back in the saddle, laughed, and said, "Hamel, this is a stressful time for you. You need to spend a bit more time laughing."

With that, Mellel turned his mount and pointed to the east. "Olmos, as you know, is due east from here. If you head straight toward the rising sun, you will eventually, assuming you are not detained by Olmosite border guards, come to the wall. If you get past the wall, you will need to continue east to find the city of Pollos. Once there, you should be able to find those you are seeking."

"Thank you," Hamel said but was interrupted.

"I'm not finished," Mellel said with a smile on his face.

Hamel began to think the man had been far more difficult than he had needed to be simply because he had a playful spirit. Hamel said, "My apologies. Please continue."

Mellel chuckled to himself. "You will not, however, want to take the direct route. First of all, that is not the road into Olmos. If you are found entering the nation through the wilderness, you will have a difficult time convincing the Olmosite guards you are not a spy or assassin trying to infiltrate the nation. You will need to head northeast until you come across a road heading east and west. That is one of the main trade routes between our nations. You may even come across a few traders along the way. If the traders are from Ridge and recognize you, that might be awkward, but I think you could manage that one okay."

Mellel turned his horse in a northeasterly direction and began to move his way through the rocks and cracks along the ground. Hamel finished tying up his belt and then brought himself up beside Mellel's horse and matched his speed as best he could.

"When you get to the road, follow east. It's not an overly direct route as the road turns and rises and falls with the land, but it is the way you will be expected to travel. In six or seven hours, you should reach Benjelton. It's one of the ancient abandoned cities. I would recommend you stay there for the night. Neither the Olmosite nor Ridge traders enter the old cities. The cities are thought to be haunted."

"I had heard that. I had intended to explore one of the cities on my way through. I wished to see a bit of our history. I have never had cause to enter one of the abandoned places of our land," Hamel said.

"Yes, I know you were going to stop there," Mellel said.

Hamel wondered again how much the man actually knew of his plans. He seemed to have an eye right into Hamel's mind.

"I would recommend you choose the old Benjelton Council Chambers," Mellel continued. "It is a solid structure, and you will not have to worry about the roof caving in on you while you sleep and move about. You can recognize it because it is right in the center of town and one of the largest, most impressive buildings in the city. It also resembles the Council Chambers in Ridge Capital, just on a smaller scale. Just outside the building is a working fountain. You will be able to wash up and refresh yourself there."

With that, Mellel handed Hamel another pack. Hamel looked inside and found enough food for two days and a few medical supplies. With the food Hamel had in his own pack, it would be plenty to get him into Olmos and perhaps even to Pollos.

"There's a bit of Olmosite gold and silver in there as well. You won't be able to spend Ridge currency while you are in Olmos. It won't be considered unusual for you to have money from Ridge as the traders come back with it all the time, but if you try to change it to Olmosite gold, you will get a very poor exchange."

With that, Mellel wished Hamel a safe journey and, without another word, turned his horse toward the west. In that direction was the Ridge Capital, and Hamel wondered if the man was going to report to someone. He did not think Mellel would betray him, but there was far more to the man than he knew.

He pushed his horse to go as fast as he felt he could on the rough, uneven ground and settled in for the journey ahead.

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