The next morning his company tried to convince him he was a true king but he still refused. As they made their way back to the valley the mist in the woods grew thicker and thicker until the company became separated. The leader began calling for his companions but no one answered. Walking back to the mountain in hopes of leaving the fog he saw a dark figure materialize in the fog and he drew his sword. The figure began to walk towards him and then it stopped. The deep resounding sound of a hunting horn reverberated in the valley and the company began to walk towards the sound. As they were reunited the figure stepped out from behind the cover of the mist and revealed himself. The company was in awe as the spirit Oromë walked towards them and looked at their faces. He looked from face to face until he stopped on their leader then he smiled and knelt down on his knee. In his hands he held a crown of wood and gold so beautiful no living man could have even fathomed its existence. He looked up and said, “Come, claim your crown and take your place as king.” When he did not move forward Oromë stood up and spoke again, “Come Dorundain, claim your crown.” Dorundain looked around at his company shocked and then took a few steps forward. Oromë then placed the crown on his head and left gifts at his feet. He gave Dorundain his hunting horn, his sword, a book, and a sapling. To the sapling he pointed and said, “No gift is as precious as the gift of life. Always return in proportion to what you take and you will be a successful king.” Next he pointed to the book, “Knowledge is a great gift, but those who keep it selfishly never learn the true rewards of what they have learned.” Then he pointed to the sword, “A man cannot call himself pure if he uses his sword to save himself instead of saving others. To die in battle is a great honor, but to give your life in place of that of another is an even greater honor.” Finally he pointed to the horn, “Its call shall strike fear in the hearts of your prey, whether man or beast, and sound true in all places. A wise king will always speak clear and true and for this he shall be loved. These are my gifts, Dorundain, may you re-forge this once great city and bring life where life has been taken.”

Then he turned and vanished as quickly as he had appeared. The words still hung in the air and the members of the company were speechless. Then they knelt on their knees and pledged loyalty to their new king.

As they returned to the mountain city, their city, a dark presence was lurking in the shadows. It followed them to the outer wall of the city and then stopped dead in its tracks. Unable to move forward it shrieked in anger and the company turned to find a black figure struggling against an invisible force in the air. Perhaps the return of the king had awoken an ancient spirit or perhaps it was merely an illusion. This mattered not to the company who had a new purpose. They were to rebuild and restore the city and the teachings of Oromë to their once great power.

Overwhelmed with the gargantuan task ahead they decide to split up and look for others to join their cause while Dorundain remained in the city to piece together the history and knowledge of his people. A daunting task for one man but one whose rewards vastly outweighs the effort. Sadly, many of the books were incomprehensible or had decayed through the many years of neglect; however, the books in the Hall of Oromë, the room beneath the statue, were still in excellent condition due to their location. They contained information on many varieties of plants, their uses and growing instructions as well as their magical properties. While this was most interesting, Dorundain was seeking another form of wisdom, in fact the very words of Oromë which had been transcribed into a doctrine which his followers obeyed to the letter. There were many references to such a doctrine in many of the books he read but he was unable to find a complete source. He wondered if perhaps they were verbal rules passed from generation to generation or whether they were kept in another location in the city. Dorundain then went back to the library and examined the gifts of Oromë. At the time he did not know what to do with so many gifts so he kept them hidden and continued with his work.

The days end was drawing near, the long day of reading and searching had made him very weary and he was more than happy to rest. As he drifted into deep sleep a vision of vast green woodlands and clear skies welcomed him. The vision of a new republic cam to him in his dream, one that would transcend Charybdis and the Ciel Fey; a republic forge upon the principles of old to protect Mirendil and all living inhabitants of its cities and woodlands. As the dream vanished and the night sky faded before the golden rays of the sun Dorundain awoke well rested and serene. He walked through the ruins of the city and down into the valley. It had only been a day or so since his company left to recruit people to their cause, hoping there would be a few who would come.

Turning back towards the city Dorundain saw the rays of sunlight bath the library and Great Hall in orange light, a vision which seemed to restore his hope in finding the words of Oromë. He searched again in the library for many hours, and then he strolled through the Great Hall to clear his mind when he realized what he was searching for would be in the most obvious place of all, a place where all citizens could read the wisdom. Running down the road to the Market Square he searched for a large statue or monument of sorts where he assumed the people of the city would have inscribed their laws. He found no such statue and as he crossed the square towards the road to the library he found himself staring at what he was looking for. The wall of the mountain, which served as a base for the Great Hall and upper level, was carved with massive stone pillars, which neither he nor his company had thought to examine. As he walked closer he could see inscriptions which had faded heavily over the years and he began to piece together what he could.

It was very difficult for Dorundain to decipher the words carved into the pillars but he finally managed to do so after a month of scrutinizing every inch of the pillars. Overjoyed by his accomplishment he celebrated with what little wine he had left in his supplies and walked down into the valley towards the river to swim. As he did so he heard the sound of hoof beats towards the east. He quickly dressed and hid in the woods to catch a glimpse of the strangers. But as they drew closer he recognized one of the mirdain as one of his company and he quickly ran forward to greet them. A good number of mirdain followed him from the towns in the east and the valleys in the south. The republic was beginning to take shape with the first wave of people joining their cause.

The arrival of the last member of the company in the following weeks gave cause for a celebration. The original company was reunited and they had brought with them many men and women who had already begun rebuilding the outer wall and some of the homes in the lower levels of the city. Dorundain then revealed his discovery of the words of Oromë to the people, and they cheered as they had the last piece of their republic fell into place.

Over the next few years Dorundain contemplated his position as sole ruler of his people. The city was nearly completed but there was still much to do. Alone he could not accomplish the many awaiting tasks, so he created a high council to help in governing the affairs of Oromëa. They came to be known as the Lathruin, and each willing member of the original company was given a seat on the council for their hard work and dedication. Dorundain also distributed the gifts of Oromë to the council leader of the appropriate section. The small tree Oromë had given him he planted in the Market Square for all to see. As the tree grew taller and taller so did the Oromëa and the once great city which had been silent for many years came alive, the woodlands in the valley below, aided by the skilled druids of Oromë, began to grow and the green leaves and young

Trees erased the memories of death. As the evening sun shone its last rays across the valley a light wind began to blow through the valley towards the darkness. It carried with it the sweet scent of freedom and unity into lands far beyond the horizon. To some it was just an evening breeze, but to those who could smell the fragrant perfume it carried it was a calling to their one true home, the city in the rock of a majestic mountain surrounded by nature and the knowledge of life.