I'm not even sure how to begin to start a discussion on this chapter. I love it so much that I want to just quote the whole thing...but that would take way too long to type. And there really isn't all that much action to describe. So I figure I'll just do what I usually do: quote all my favorite bits, and maybe throw in a few extra comments (since this is supposed to be a discussion-starter).
So...
Into Andelain we go! Feeling lonely and afraid, at least at first.
As Thomas Covenant passed the venerable oak and began angling his way up into Andelain, he left a grieved and limping part of himself with Linden. He was still weak from the attack of the bees, and did not want to be alone. Unwillingly, almost unconsciously, he had come to depend on Linden's presence. He felt bound to her by many cords. Some of them he knew: her courage and support; her willingness to risk herself on his behalf. But others seemed to have no name. He felt almost physically linked to her without knowing why. Her refusal to accompany him made him afraid.
Andelain! Something at least remains of the way the Land used to be - Andelain is still as heartbreakingly beautiful as it has always been. Even more so, since it's the last remnant of the pre-Sunbane Land.Soon, however, his mood changed. For this was Andelain, as precious to his memory as his dearest friendships in the Land. In this air - ether as crisp as sempiternal spring - he could not even see the sun's chrysoprastic aura; the sunshine contained nothing except an abundance of beauty. The grass unrolling under his feet was lush and beryl-green, freshly jeweled with dew. Woodlands extended north and east of him. Broad Gilden fondled the breeze with their wide gold leaves; stately elms fronted the azure of the sky like princes; willows as delicate as filigree beckoned to him, inviting him into their heart-healing shade. All about the hale trunks, flowers enriched the greensward: daisies and columbine and elegant forsythia in profusion. And over everything lay an atmosphere of pristine and vibrant loveliness, as if here and in no other place lived quintessential health, nature's pure gift to assuage the soul.
Munching aliantha as he passed, loping down long hillsides, bursting occasionally into wild leaps of pleasure, Thomas Covenant traveled swiftly into Andelain.
Oh, dear God. There's Earthpower yet.
And Covenant begins to understand the Stonedownors:
Covenant travels on till nightfall. And then...They were like lepers; all the people of the Land were like lepers. They were the victims of the Sunbane, victims of an ill for which there was no cure and no escape. Outcast from the beauty of the world. And under such conditions, the need to survive exacted harsh penalties. No thing under the sun was as perilous to a leper as his own yearning for the kind of life, companionship, hope, denied him by his disease. That susceptibility led to despair and self-contempt, to the conviction that the outcasting of the leper was just - condign punishment for an affliction which must have been deserved.
Seen in that way, Andelain was like a living vindication of the Sunbane. The Land was not like Andelain because the people of the Land merited retribution rather than loveliness. What else could they believe, and still endure the penury of their lives? Like so many lepers, they were driven to approve their own destitution. Therefore Sunder could not trust anything which was not ruled by the Sunbane. And Hollian believed that Andelain would destroy her. They had no choice.
No choice at all. Until they learned to believe that the Sunbane was not the whole truth of their lives. Until Covenant found and answer which could set them free.
He was prepared to spend everything he possessed, everything he was, to open the way for Sunder, and Hollian, and Linden to walk Andelain unafraid.
Then he hears this song, which I really love:...The darkness was still young when he was halted by the sight of a faint yellow-orange light, flickering through the trees like a blade of fire. He did not seek to approach it; memories held him still. He stood hushed and reverent while the flame wandered toward him. And as it came, it made a fine clear tinkling sound, like the chime of delicate crystal.
Then it bobbed in the air before him, and he bowed low to it, for it was one of the Wraiths of Andelain - a flame no larger than his hand dancing upright as if the darkness were an invisible wick. Its movement matched his obeisance; and when it floated slowly away from him, he followed after it. Its lustre made his heart swell. Toward the Wraiths of Andelain he felt a keen grief which he would have given anything to relieve. At one time, scores of them had died because he had lacked the power to save them.
And he sees our old friend Hile Troy - now Caer-Caveral, Forestal of Andelain and the only thing that's keeping Andelain from becoming like the rest of the Land. The Colossus is gone, the forests are all gone, and only Andelain remains, with Caer-Caveral fighting a losing battle on its behalf.Andelain I hold and mold within my fragile spell,
While world's ruin ruins wood and wold.
Sap and bough are grief and grim to me, engrievement fell,
And petals fall without relief.
Astricken by my power's dearth,
I hold the glaive of Law against the Earth.
Andelain I cherish dear within my mortal breast;
And faithful I withhold Despiser's wish.
But faithless is my ache for dreams and slumbering and rest,
And burdens make my courage break.
The Sunbane mocks my best reply,
And all about and in me beauties die.
Andelain! I strive with need and loss, and ascertain
That the Despiser's might can rend and rive.
Each falter of my ancient heart is all the evil's gain;
And it appalls without relent.
I cannot spread my power more,
Through teary visions come of wail and gore.
Oh, Andelain! forgive! for I am doomed to fail this war.
I cannot bear to see you die - and live,
Foredoomed to bitterness and all the grey Despiser's lore.
But while I can I heed the all
Of green and tree; and for their worth,
I hold the glaive of Law against the Earth.
All of Covenant's friends, all the people he - and we - loved from the First Chronicles...back again! As ghosts, only ghosts. But back all the same."Thomas Covenant," the tall man sang, "I require from you everything and nothing. I have not brought you here this night to ask, but to give. Behold!" A sweeping gesture of his staff scattered the grass with music; and there, through the melody like incarnations of song, Covenant saw them. Pale silver as if they were made of moonshine, though the moon had no such light, they stood before him. Caer-Caveral's streaming argence illumined them as if they had been created out of Forestal-fire.
Covenant's friends.
High Lord Mhoram, with the wise serenity of his eyes, and the crookedness of his smile.
Elena daughter of Lena and rape, herself a former High Lord, beautiful and passionate. Covenant's child; almost his lover.
Bannor of the Bloodguard, wearing poise and capability and the power of judgment which could never be wrested from him.
Saltheart Foamfollower, who towered over the others as he towered over all mortals in size, and humor, and purity of spirit.
Covenant stared at them through the music as if the sinews of his soul were fraying. A moan broke from his chest, and he went forward with his arms outstretched to embrace his friends.
"Hold!"
The Forestal's command froze Covenant before he could close the separation. Immobility filled all his muscles.
"You do not comprehend," Caer-Caveral sang more kindly. "You cannot touch them, for they have no flesh. They are the Dead. The Law of Death has been broken, and cannot be made whole again. Your presence here has called them from their sleep, for all who enter Andelain encounter their Dead here."
Cannot - ? After all this time? Tears streamed down Covenant's cheeks; but when Caer-Caveral released him, he made no move toward the specters. Almost choking on his loss, he said, "You're killing me. What do you want?"
"Ah, beloved," Elena replied quickly, in the clear irrefusable voice which he remembered with such anguish, "this is not a time for grief. Our hearts are glad to behold you here. We have not come to cause you pain, but to bless you with our love. And to give you gifts, as the Law permits."
"It is a word of truth," added Mhoram. "Feel joy for us, for none could deny the joy we feel in you."
"Mhoram," Covenant wept. "Elena. Bannor. Oh, Foamfollower!"
And they give Covenant some very strange gifts. Caer-Caveral places something in Covenant's mind that he will find when he needs it:
Spoiler
the knowledge of how to find the One Tree, IIRC.
Elena tells him that when it comes time to confront Lord Foul, he will find him in Mount Thunder. And she also tells him to take care of Linden "so that in the end she may heal us all.""When you have understood the Land's need, you must depart the Land, for the thing you seek is not within it. The one word of truth cannot be found otherwise. But I give you this caution: do not be deceived by the Land's need. The thing you seek is not what it appears to be. In the end, you must return to the Land."
And Foamfollower gives him Vain - "the final spawn of the ur-viles."A moment later, Bannor stood before him. The Bloodguard's Haruchai face was impassive, implacable. "Unbeliever, I have no gift for you," he said without inflection. "But I say to you, Redeem my people. Their plight is an abomination. And they will serve you well."
~Foamy~"He crowns all their generations of breeding. As your friend, I implore you: take him to be your companion. He will not please you, for he does not speak, and serves no purpose but his own. But that purpose is mighty, and greatly to be desired. His makers have ever been lore-wise, though tormented, and when it comes upon him he, at least, will not fail.
"I say that he serves no purpose but his own. Yet in order that you may accept him, the ur-viles have formed him in such a way that he may be commanded once. Once only, but I pray it may suffice. When your need is upon you, and there is no other help, say to him, 'Nekhrimah, Vain,' and he will obey.
"Thomas Covenant. My dear friend." Foamfollower bent close to him, pleading with him. "In the name of Hotash Slay, where I was consumed and reborn, I beg you to accept this gift."
Covenant could hardly refrain from throwing his arms around the Giant's neck. He had learned a deep dread of the ur-viles and all their works. But Foamfollower had been his friend, and had died for it. Thickly, he said, "Yes. All right."
"I thank you," the Giant breathed, and withdrew.
For a moment, there was silence. Wraith-light rose dimly, and the Dead stood like icons of past might and pain. Caer-Caveral's song took on the cadence of a threnody. Crimson tinged the flow of his phosphorescence. Covenant felt suddenly that his friends were about to depart. At once, his heart began to labor, aching for the words to tell them that he loved them.
The Forestal approached again; but High Lord Mhoram stayed him. "One word more," Mhoram said to Covenant. "This must be spoken, though I risk much in saying it. My friend, the peril upon the Land is not what it was. Lord Foul works in new ways, seeking ruin, and his evil cannot be answered by any combat. He has said to you that you are his Enemy. Remember that he seeks always to mislead you. It boots nothing to avoid his snares, for they are ever beset with other snares, and life and death are too intimately intergrown to be severed from each other. But it is necessary to comprehend them, so that they may be mastered. When - " He hesitated momentarily. "When you have come to the crux, and have no other recourse, remember the paradox of the white gold. There is hope in contradiction."
Hope? Covenant cried. Mhoram! Don't you know I'm going to fail?
The next moment, Caer-Caveral's song came down firmly on the back of his neck, and he was asleep in the thick grass.
