|Chapter 12: The Andelainian Hills|
"Thomas Covenant," the tall man sang. "I require from you everything and nothing. I have not brought you here tonight 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.
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.