There was noise everywhere, the sound of soldiers shouting and running footsteps. The howling of mothers and wives as their husbands and sons were taken from them in order to make one last stand against the Enemy that was at the doorstep of the citadel. Weeping echoed through the halls mingling with the harsh clanging of armor and swords being sharpened. Metal clothed men marched swiftly around, shouting orders, while the silver helmed elves checked their arrows and their blades, talking softly to one another in a tongue that reminded people standing by of waves washing up on the sand. Strong but gentle, loud but soft, young but ancient; ageless.
Small children watched, eyes wide, not fully comprehending what was going on around them, while older children hid their tears and put on a strong face for their younger siblings, even as they watched their world fall to the hard, cold ground and shatter into millions of pieces, like shards of glass. They looked strong but inside they were terrified, not sure of their future, or whether they would live to see the next morning or not. Most might not even live through the night.
A young mother hugged her husband tightly, fearing she would never see him again, before releasing him. He took her hand, and squeezed it, making a silent promise that he would be back. Not a word was said. There was no need. The look they gave each other said more than could ever be put in words.
Suddenly the man felt a tugging on his sleeve. He looked down to see his young son, hardly more than five summers old, with his arms spread out, asking to be picked up. The man bent down and hugged his young son tightly. The little boy responded by wrapping his arms as far as they would reach around his father's neck, using all the strength in his little body to hold his father close. He wasn't sure what was going on, but the child knew that it was important to hug his father, as he was going somewhere and needed to be safe. After a long moment, the young father released his son and stared lovingly at him. Slowly he spoke to his son in a voice thick with unshed tears.
"Listen, I have a very important job for you, okay?" The little boy nodded seriously. The father continued. "I'm going to go away now for a while, maybe even for a long time. I'm going to need you to take care of your mother while I'm gone. She's going to need a lot of help from you, so I need you to be a big boy. Do you think you can do that?"
The boy nodded again seriously and puffed up his chest, ready to protect his mother from anything, even orcs if need be. The young father's eyes filled with pride and gleamed with tears.
"Good boy. You are so big. I have to go now, okay? I love you very, very much. Never forget that. I'll see you soon." The father's voice cracked with the last few words, and he hastily hugged his son tight and rose. Hugging his wife one last time, he turned and left, to death or victory, he was unsure but he prayed that for the sake of his wife and son, it was victory. Soon he was out of sight from his family, but they continued watching the spot where they had last seen him as the cold rain began to fall.
Time passed, though exactly how much time, no one was really sure. The refugees who couldn't make it into the caverns below were huddled against the walls, flinching at the screams of dying men, and the clash of weapons. The young mother and her son hugged each other tightly, the mother covering her son's ears, trying to stop the noise from reaching his ears.
Suddenly they heard a whipping sound and something flew over the air above them. Seconds later flame and stone were raining down from the sky above them. Screams of pain and terror and the sound of burning wood and stone collapsing were the only sounds to be heard.
Screaming in unadulterated terror, the young child fell to the stone floor and covered his ears with his hands as stone fell around him. When he could see again, his mother was nowhere in sight and he was trapped under a fallen beam. Crying shrilly, he tried to push it off him, but his efforts were to no avail. It was getting harder to breathe through the thick smoke, and his cries gradually became weaker and weaker. As his vision faded into darkness, the child saw a radiant light, pure and soft, coming towards him. The last thing he saw was a silver helm and eyes clear and blue, like the sea. Then everything was black.
The next thing he knew, the little boy was staring up into an unfamiliar face. An elf stared down at him, relief flooding his ageless eyes. Confused, the young child opened his mouth with the intention of asking what was happening, but then everything came flooding back. Looking around, he saw he was in an abandoned house along one of the inner rings of the citadel. Surrounding him were several wounded men and elves. Some were lying on the ground, moaning in pain, while others were leaning tiredly against the still intact walls. Others, however, were eerily still.
"Are you alright?" the elf asked him softly. Nodding numbly, the child licked his dust-coated lips before replying in a raspy voice.
"Where is my mama? I have to protect her. Daddy told me too." The elf looked down for a second and then looked back at him solemnly.
"I know not where she is but perhaps she is with the others down in the infirmary searching for you."
The young child's eyes widened and he tried to get up. Immediately though he fell back down to the ground as pain flared up in his chest. He looked down, and finding nothing, tried again, with the same results. The elf pushed him gently back down to the ground whispering something in a soft language. A warm feeling spread all over his chest, and the pain which had become almost unbearable faded a little. The boy blinked his eyes, trying to hold back the tears which threatened to spill over onto his face, hoping the elf wouldn't notice. He looked into his eyes and smiled softly.
"There is no shame in crying. Even the bravest elves cry sometimes." The boy choked on a small sob as terror quickly consumed him. Where were his mother and father? What was happening to the city? Who were these people attacking them and why? What had they ever done to deserve this?
He felt so hopelessly alone and scared beyond reason. He just wanted his parents. The elf held him as he cried, salty tears coursing down his dirty face, leaving trails through the dust. After some time, the child's sobbing finally softened into small hiccups, and the elf pushed him up gently into a sitting position. Using a soft cloth that had been placed nearby, the ancient being wiped the tears from the human child's face gently, muttering comforting words as he did so. When he was finished, he pulled an object from around his neck. Opening his palm the elven warrior allowed the child to see what it was.
A leather cord lay in the palm of the elf's hand, softened from decades of use. At the end of the leather lay a glimmering silver pearl, glowing with the light of a full moon. Taking it, he reached over the boys head and slid it around the child's small neck. The small boy examined the pearl with awe, before looking up at the elf in front of him.
"This is a very special pearl. It is from a place across the ocean, that we call the Undying Lands. The pearl will give you strength and protect you from all harm. I have worn almost all my life and it has served me well. Now I give it to you, to keep you from all harm." The boy nodded thoughtfully and then bent his head to gaze at the luminous pearl. A thought struck him after a moment and he raised his head urgently.
"Won't you need it though? To keep you safe?" The elf smiled slightly and shook his head.
"I will not need it, because soon I am leaving for the Undying Lands myself, and there are many pearls there. I can always get a new one. I want you to have this one, to protect you." Nodding solemnly, the child wrapped his chubby hand around it, gripping it tightly. Gazing into those ancient eyes the color of the sea, the child saw the truth of what the elven warrior said. Hidden behind that, however, was a flicker of deep sadness, but before he could ask why the elf was sad, a scream echoed through the street outside, echoing off the stone walls.
As if on cue, the wounded in the room scrambled to their feet as quickly as they could and, helping each other, began to make their way out into the city towards the center of the citadel. The boy noticed that many men didn't move at all. Calling out, he tried to tell them to get up, there was danger, but a vicious roar sounded close by, drowning out his words. Picking him up gently, his rescuer placed him in the arms of one of his companions. Turning back to the cot, the ancient warrior put on his silver helm and drew a sword that was dark with blood, before turning back to the child, eyes shining warmly.
"Go with my friend. He will take you to safety. Remember about the pearl, nothing will harm you." Placing an armored hand upon the boy's forehead, the warrior spoke a few words softly, as if in blessing. The child met the elf's eyes, looking deeply into ancient eyes that were as unfathomable and as blue as the sea. A soft smile flickered across the helmed face and the ancient being nodded slightly. Then turning, the elven warrior ran towards the ever closer sounds of chaos and death.
The last thing the boy saw of his savior was a raised sword, the light of the raging flames shining brilliantly off the silver helm and sword, impressing on his mind the image of a fiery warrior, with eyes like the sea.
-Epilogue-
The battle was long and hard, but the armies of Rohan finally emerged victorious. It was a hard-won victory that had come with a great cost. Thousands upon thousands of men and elves lay dead on the field of battle, and hundreds more were wounded. The city was destroyed and fires were being put out all across the stone citadel. Dust covered children wandered the streets, crying and searching for their families. Some were never found. Those who were reunited cried with joy and hugged each other tightly, never wanting to let go.
In the crowded infirmary, the young boy hugged both his parents fiercely from his cot and told them excitedly about his new elven friend, showing them his pearl. As the elf had promised, it had kept him safe all throughout the long night, and he swore never to take it off. He told his parents that the elf would come to visit him soon and maybe he could get a pearl for them too so that they would always be safe too.
But the early morning hours passed into late evening and no elf with eyes the color of the sea came. The boy shrugged it off, saying that he probably needed to sleep. He fell asleep that night clutching his pearl, his dreams full of his elven savior.
In another part of the city, a silver helmed elf with eyes the color of the sea stared up into the starry sky, gaze distant and cloudy. He had killed many orcs, but finally, the weight of his wounds had been too much, and he had fallen among the still warm bodies of his comrades. Gasping shallowly, the elf breathed out one final prayer for the safety of the young boy. The last thing he saw was a brilliant light streaming across the battlefield and a white rider on a white horse, riding in on the blazing sun.
Then darkness had fallen, and the eyes that held the sea in them never saw anything again.