object:1f.lovecraft - The Quest of Iranon
author class:H P Lovecraft
subject class:Fiction
genre class:Horror
class:chapter
Into the granite city of Teloth wandered the youth, vine-crowned, his
yellow hair glistening with myrrh and his purple robe torn with briers
of the mountain Sidrak that lies across the antique bridge of stone.
The men of Teloth are dark and stern, and dwell in square houses, and
with frowns they asked the stranger whence he had come and what were
his name and fortune. So the youth answered:
“I am Iranon, and come from Aira, a far city that I recall only dimly
but seek to find again. I am a singer of songs that I learned in the
far city, and my calling is to make beauty with the things remembered
of childhood. My wealth is in little memories and dreams, and in hopes
that I sing in gardens when the moon is tender and the west wind stirs
the lotos-buds.”
When the men of Teloth heard these things they whispered to one
another; for though in the granite city there is no laughter or song,
the stern men sometimes look to the Karthian hills in the spring and
think of the lutes of distant Oonai whereof travellers have told. And
thinking thus, they bade the stranger stay and sing in the square
before the Tower of Mlin, though they liked not the colour of his
tattered robe, nor the myrrh in his hair, nor his chaplet of
vine-leaves, nor the youth in his golden voice. At evening Iranon sang,
and while he sang an old man prayed and a blind man said he saw a
nimbus over the singer’s head. But most of the men of Teloth yawned,
and some laughed and some went away to sleep; for Iranon told nothing
useful, singing only his memories, his dreams, and his hopes.
“I remember the twilight, the moon, and soft songs, and the window
where I was rocked to sleep. And through the window was the street
where the golden lights came, and where the shadows danced on houses of
marble. I remember the square of moonlight on the floor, that was not
like any other light, and the visions that danced in the moonbeams when
my mother sang to me. And too, I remember the sun of morning bright
above the many-coloured hills in summer, and the sweetness of flowers
borne on the south wind that made the trees sing.
“O Aira, city of marble and beryl, how many are thy beauties! How loved
I the warm and fragrant groves across the hyaline Nithra, and the falls
of the tiny Kra that flowed through the verdant valley! In those groves
and in that vale the children wove wreaths for one another, and at dusk
I dreamed strange dreams under the yath-trees on the mountain as I saw
below me the lights of the city, and the curving Nithra reflecting a
ribbon of stars.
“And in the city were palaces of veined and tinted marble, with golden
domes and painted walls, and green gardens with cerulean pools and
crystal fountains. Often I played in the gardens and waded in the
pools, and lay and dreamed among the pale flowers under the trees. And
sometimes at sunset I would climb the long hilly street to the citadel
and the open place, and look down upon Aira, the magic city of marble
and beryl, splendid in a robe of golden flame.
“Long have I missed thee, Aira, for I was but young when we went into
exile; but my father was thy King and I shall come again to thee, for
it is so decreed of Fate. All through seven lands have I sought thee,
and some day shall I reign over thy groves and gardens, thy streets and
palaces, and sing to men who shall know whereof I sing, and laugh not
nor turn away. For I am Iranon, who was a Prince in Aira.”
That night the men of Teloth lodged the stranger in a stable, and in
the morning an archon came to him and told him to go to the shop of
Athok the cobbler, and be apprenticed to him.
“But I am Iranon, a singer of songs,” he said, “and have no heart for
the cobbler’s trade.”
“All in Teloth must toil,” replied the archon, “for that is the law.”
Then said Iranon,
“Wherefore do ye toil; is it not that ye may live and be happy? And if
ye toil only that ye may toil more, when shall happiness find you? Ye
toil to live, but is not life made of beauty and song? And if ye suffer
no singers among you, where shall be the fruits of your toil? Toil
without song is like a weary journey without an end. Were not death
more pleasing?” But the archon was sullen and did not understand, and
rebuked the stranger.
“Thou art a strange youth, and I like not thy face nor thy voice. The
words thou speakest are blasphemy, for the gods of Teloth have said
that toil is good. Our gods have promised us a haven of light beyond
death, where there shall be rest without end, and crystal coldness
amidst which none shall vex his mind with thought or his eyes with
beauty. Go thou then to Athok the cobbler or be gone out of the city by
sunset. All here must serve, and song is folly.”
So Iranon went out of the stable and walked over the narrow stone
streets between the gloomy square houses of granite, seeking something
green in the air of spring. But in Teloth was nothing green, for all
was of stone. On the faces of men were frowns, but by the stone
embankment along the sluggish river Zuro sate a young boy with sad eyes
gazing into the waters to spy green budding branches washed down from
the hills by the freshets. And the boy said to him:
“Art thou not indeed he of whom the archons tell, who seekest a far
city in a fair land? I am Romnod, and born of the blood of Teloth, but
am not old in the ways of the granite city, and yearn daily for the
warm groves and the distant lands of beauty and song. Beyond the
Karthian hills lieth Oonai, the city of lutes and dancing, which men
whisper of and say is both lovely and terrible. Thither would I go were
I old enough to find the way, and thither shouldst thou go an thou
wouldst sing and have men listen to thee. Let us leave the city Teloth
and fare together among the hills of spring. Thou shalt shew me the
ways of travel and I will attend thy songs at evening when the stars
one by one bring dreams to the minds of dreamers. And peradventure it
may be that Oonai the city of lutes and dancing is even the fair Aira
thou seekest, for it is told that thou hast not known Aira since old
days, and a name often changeth. Let us go to Oonai, O Iranon of the
golden head, where men shall know our longings and welcome us as
brothers, nor ever laugh or frown at what we say.” And Iranon answered:
“Be it so, small one; if any in this stone place yearn for beauty he
must seek the mountains and beyond, and I would not leave thee to pine
by the sluggish Zuro. But think not that delight and understanding
dwell just across the Karthian hills, or in any spot thou canst find in
a day’s, or a year’s, or a lustrum’s journey. Behold, when I was small
like thee I dwelt in the valley of Narthos by the frigid Xari, where
none would listen to my dreams; and I told myself that when older I
would go to Sinara on the southern slope, and sing to smiling
dromedary-men in the market-place. But when I went to Sinara I found
the dromedary-men all drunken and ribald, and saw that their songs were
not as mine, so I travelled in a barge down the Xari to onyx-walled
Jaren. And the soldiers at Jaren laughed at me and drave me out, so
that I wandered to many other cities. I have seen Stethelos that is
below the great cataract, and have gazed on the marsh where Sarnath
once stood. I have been to Thraa, Ilarnek, and Kadatheron on the
winding river Ai, and have dwelt long in Olathoë in the land of Lomar.
But though I have had listeners sometimes, they have ever been few, and
I know that welcome shall await me only in Aira, the city of marble and
beryl where my father once ruled as King. So for Aira shall we seek,
though it were well to visit distant and lute-blessed Oonai across the
Karthian hills, which may indeed be Aira, though I think not. Aira’s
beauty is past imagining, and none can tell of it without rapture,
whilst of Oonai the camel-drivers whisper leeringly.”
At the sunset Iranon and small Romnod went forth from Teloth, and for
long wandered amidst the green hills and cool forests. The way was
rough and obscure, and never did they seem nearer to Oonai the city of
lutes and dancing; but in the dusk as the stars came out Iranon would
sing of Aira and its beauties and Romnod would listen, so that they
were both happy after a fashion. They ate plentifully of fruit and red
berries, and marked not the passing of time, but many years must have
slipped away. Small Romnod was now not so small, and spoke deeply
instead of shrilly, though Iranon was always the same, and decked his
golden hair with vines and fragrant resins found in the woods. So it
came to pass one day that Romnod seemed older than Iranon, though he
had been very small when Iranon had found him watching for green
budding branches in Teloth beside the sluggish stone-banked Zuro.
Then one night when the moon was full the travellers came to a mountain
crest and looked down upon the myriad lights of Oonai. Peasants had
told them they were near, and Iranon knew that this was not his native
city of Aira. The lights of Oonai were not like those of Aira; for they
were harsh and glaring, while the lights of Aira shine as softly and
magically as shone the moonlight on the floor by the window where
Iranon’s mother once rocked him to sleep with song. But Oonai was a
city of lutes and dancing, so Iranon and Romnod went down the steep
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