1
2 Chapter One,
3 The Ancient War
Sun was shining brighter than ever. A day of miracles it was. Ringlô was wide-awake as the entire village slept. There was something tense in the air. The creatures of the wood wouldn't talk to her. They sensed the danger, and so did she, and couldn't sleep for days. Such beautiful seemed the day. Villagers were happy and thought it was the end of all.
It was time to celebrate, they thought, after all those years fighting with men, men had finally given up. But she didn't believe it. Why would men leave the battle when elves and men were in equal conditions and when men seemed so eager of their powers? Why? She looked at the depths of the forest. Listened, for maybe a quarter of an hour. She then turned back, her head hanging before her chest miserably.
"What is it? You have been awake for days. What is bothering you Ringlô?" her husbands voice echoed in her mind. He had been asking these, all these days she had been awake. Three days. No four. She had smelled the danger for four days. She leaped through the leaves, as she though of a reason. A reason to tell her family why she had been awake all those days. She was already at their house, with out a reason. How much she dreaded, what was it like, in there.
She stood there. She was facing a black old oak tree. The oak, which had their house on it. It seemed maybe four thousand years old, maybe more. It stood there so honorable, if trees had aristocrats, it would be the king of them. It's leaved had every tone of green in them, and they were large and many. They were enough to make an elephant look like an herb, nothing else, under them. She looked at the tree for a long time, as if seeing it for the first time. She put her hand on the black old oak's skin. Moved her hand gently on it, as if reading some kind of a text. Then she suddenly jumped and climbed the tree just like a tiger. Her movements were unable to be seen.
She now faced a door, as she stood on a twig, just like a monkey. She let a sigh. Then she entered in. It was noisy in here; her child was crying, her husband was talking loudly with some people. She moved towards her daughter. Her daughter, her dear Blaise, was crying, as she never did before. She was only four, yes, but she was intelligent. Ringlô took her daughter to some corner of the room they were in, which had pillows all over. She sat her daughter on a pillow. And sat on another herself.
"What is the problem, my dear?" she asked. Her daughter had stopped crying since she came.
"I am scared" she said flatly "too scared now, to ignore. And I need to talk to you. I cried, so you would come."
"Scared?" Ringlô asked, calmly but her eyes bursting with suspicion.
"Yes, scared" her daughter told her, toneless "I can tense the danger mum, for four days now, I have been burning to tell you. But I couldn't. I was afraid you would be scared too, if I told you what I saw."
"I have been sensing the tense air too, you know that." Ringlô said, now her voice a bit worried, but she tried not to show her nervousness to her daughter.
Her daughter eyed her longingly, as if reading her eyes. Then she suddenly turned against the wall. "Men." She said "Men are coming mum, to get us at night, when we can't be together, but at our homes, separated."
Ringlô opened her mouth. But then closed it, when she saw her daughter had more to say.
"Mother," she continued, not like a four-year-old girl, but like a wise, old woman "I beg you not to leave me. I feel the most terrible coming. Believe me, if you will, or don't, but either way, don't leave me."
Ringlô was shocked how her daughter could sense the tenseness when only she sensed it. But the worry for her daughter was more. She didn't know to be glad she could sense danger, or so sad that she was afraid, and was skipping her childhood, becoming a child, when meant to be a baby, becoming a young girl, when meant to be child, and so on. Also, she had to warn everybody. But would they listen? Would they halt celebrating and listen her for a second? She looked at the floor.
"The forest hasn't been talking to me, even they know what is coming; the legged is running away, the stiff stopped talking." She told her daughter "It is war time, and even if we can stop them, with our powers, even elves need help sometimes. Because catching us in our sleep is too dangerous for us. And as people won't believe me even if I tell them what is coming, we will be caught like mice in a trap, so easily. And there won't be anywhere to run and back when had a breath, because we will be in our sleeps." She led a sigh.
Suddenly her daughter shouted, "They're coming!"
"They won't believe you darling," Ringlô said as she laid her hand on her daughters face. But her daughter took her hand off. And said, "No mother, they ARE, they are in the edges of the forest!"
Ringlô's eyes got wide and she looked at her daughter who was breathing so heavily, her chest would be seen, going up and down. Ringlô made a quick move towards her husband, who was celebrating with a few friends. She lent to his ear and whispered that men were in the edge of the forest. Her husband didn't show any sign of disbelief. But he was smiling.
"My friends," he said loudly to his companions "Men are coming here to celebrate us!" All his friends clapped merrily, but one.
"We need to call help. From the Moon Elves" the companion who didn't clap said.
"What are you talking about, Ugric?" Ringlô's husband said, puzzled.
"Do you really think they are here to congratulate us?" Ugric said in distaste, as if just had a poisonous herb "They are too proud for it. I don't understand why they left, neither do I understand why they would come to congratulate us!" Ugric had rose. Ringlô and Blaise weren't alone. Ugric was wearing a long elven cloak, and underneath it, a black robe. You wouldn't name him "wise" by the look of him, but he seemed rather wise enough to race with wizards, with his voice and the certain and bold.
Ugric was the wisest in their village. And hi history was rather complicated. He had been living with Moon Elves, for a long time, and had his childhood there, or so he said. And then he lived in the forest, alone, and he wondered far, far enough to amaze any ranger. But after every journey, he turned back to forest, his "home".
She had been eying him too long not to be noticed. People were looking at her. And she looked away as soon as she came back to world from memories of Ugric and realized everybody was looking at her.
"You read the signs as I do," she said to Ugric "I have been worried for long."
Ugric was intelligent, and he asked in a singsong voice "Then why not rise the village?"
"Who would believe me?" she asked hoarsely "Who? Give me ONE example I could count on. And also, my daughter, my little daughter just told me she was afraid. So afraid of the danger she senses, she said she couldn't ignore the signs anymore. What would people say, if I told I and my daughter saw the danger coming?"
"They would laugh at you." Ugric told shortly and clearly "But I would not. Why not come to me, at the first place?"
Ringlô stood there, her mouth wide open, speechless. A last she coughed and said; "I do not know. I know your wise ness, but I could not be sure not to be laughed at."
"True… True…" said Ugric, thoughtfully "Do you know where they are?" he asked suddenly.
"I –" she halted "They have been traveling for days. Slow, humans are. But today, they have reached the edges of the Druadan."
The war was coming. And Men were closer than elves ever led them come. They were coming trough the leaves of Druadan Forest. They were coming for war. And yet war came, in the darkness of the night. But only half the village was asleep. The ones who believed in Ugric and Ringlô were ready for war. They had called the Firien Wood for help. As this was the war of whole Gondor. If Men passed Druadan, they would go for all Gondor.
Gondor was also in the kingdom of Men. But the Men who came and the Men who ruled Gondor were not the same. The wise Kingdom of Gondor was ruled by Aragorn son of Arathorn in these times time. And elves saw no Men as wise as the "Strider" of many, Aragorn son of Arathorn for Gondor. He was raised by the elves themselves, and had abilities yet not known to Men. He could do things that only elves could. But still, only one man could not change the whole Men, unfortunately. And power-hungry Men now wanted the power of the elves, an elven army. Which would take over Gondor easily. And maybe power-hungry Men would wan more, when did they not want more?
And yet Firien sent help, more than half of their warriors; two hundred bow elves, three hundred sword-master elves and five hundred horse- elves. Grey Elves were better at fighting at night than the Sea Elves. But yet, they could not save the entire village. They were fighting and trying to save the villagers at the same time. And their fighting desire won saving desire. Because they knew, if they didn't fight and keep bringing people to the same, well-protected house, Men would go for that house and get more elves than they would have if they only fought. So they fought.
War was won by the elves. But elves did not celebrate. They lost too many. Druadan lost a thousand of two. And Firien lost none. But they felt like they lost their own people, towards the lost Druadans.
The survivors of the Druadan were those who ran or got escaped by Grey Elves. But yet there were still three people who survived but did not run or got carried away. They were the best fighters of Druadan. Ringlô the Bow-elf, Ugric the Wise and Blaise the aier (elvish word, meaning; "Short one"). Blaise was four years old, and she survived. She used the bow as if using her hand. And yet she was brave and did not escape, and of course, she was the daughter of Ringlô the great Bow-elf.
2 Chapter One,
3 The Ancient War
Sun was shining brighter than ever. A day of miracles it was. Ringlô was wide-awake as the entire village slept. There was something tense in the air. The creatures of the wood wouldn't talk to her. They sensed the danger, and so did she, and couldn't sleep for days. Such beautiful seemed the day. Villagers were happy and thought it was the end of all.
It was time to celebrate, they thought, after all those years fighting with men, men had finally given up. But she didn't believe it. Why would men leave the battle when elves and men were in equal conditions and when men seemed so eager of their powers? Why? She looked at the depths of the forest. Listened, for maybe a quarter of an hour. She then turned back, her head hanging before her chest miserably.
"What is it? You have been awake for days. What is bothering you Ringlô?" her husbands voice echoed in her mind. He had been asking these, all these days she had been awake. Three days. No four. She had smelled the danger for four days. She leaped through the leaves, as she though of a reason. A reason to tell her family why she had been awake all those days. She was already at their house, with out a reason. How much she dreaded, what was it like, in there.
She stood there. She was facing a black old oak tree. The oak, which had their house on it. It seemed maybe four thousand years old, maybe more. It stood there so honorable, if trees had aristocrats, it would be the king of them. It's leaved had every tone of green in them, and they were large and many. They were enough to make an elephant look like an herb, nothing else, under them. She looked at the tree for a long time, as if seeing it for the first time. She put her hand on the black old oak's skin. Moved her hand gently on it, as if reading some kind of a text. Then she suddenly jumped and climbed the tree just like a tiger. Her movements were unable to be seen.
She now faced a door, as she stood on a twig, just like a monkey. She let a sigh. Then she entered in. It was noisy in here; her child was crying, her husband was talking loudly with some people. She moved towards her daughter. Her daughter, her dear Blaise, was crying, as she never did before. She was only four, yes, but she was intelligent. Ringlô took her daughter to some corner of the room they were in, which had pillows all over. She sat her daughter on a pillow. And sat on another herself.
"What is the problem, my dear?" she asked. Her daughter had stopped crying since she came.
"I am scared" she said flatly "too scared now, to ignore. And I need to talk to you. I cried, so you would come."
"Scared?" Ringlô asked, calmly but her eyes bursting with suspicion.
"Yes, scared" her daughter told her, toneless "I can tense the danger mum, for four days now, I have been burning to tell you. But I couldn't. I was afraid you would be scared too, if I told you what I saw."
"I have been sensing the tense air too, you know that." Ringlô said, now her voice a bit worried, but she tried not to show her nervousness to her daughter.
Her daughter eyed her longingly, as if reading her eyes. Then she suddenly turned against the wall. "Men." She said "Men are coming mum, to get us at night, when we can't be together, but at our homes, separated."
Ringlô opened her mouth. But then closed it, when she saw her daughter had more to say.
"Mother," she continued, not like a four-year-old girl, but like a wise, old woman "I beg you not to leave me. I feel the most terrible coming. Believe me, if you will, or don't, but either way, don't leave me."
Ringlô was shocked how her daughter could sense the tenseness when only she sensed it. But the worry for her daughter was more. She didn't know to be glad she could sense danger, or so sad that she was afraid, and was skipping her childhood, becoming a child, when meant to be a baby, becoming a young girl, when meant to be child, and so on. Also, she had to warn everybody. But would they listen? Would they halt celebrating and listen her for a second? She looked at the floor.
"The forest hasn't been talking to me, even they know what is coming; the legged is running away, the stiff stopped talking." She told her daughter "It is war time, and even if we can stop them, with our powers, even elves need help sometimes. Because catching us in our sleep is too dangerous for us. And as people won't believe me even if I tell them what is coming, we will be caught like mice in a trap, so easily. And there won't be anywhere to run and back when had a breath, because we will be in our sleeps." She led a sigh.
Suddenly her daughter shouted, "They're coming!"
"They won't believe you darling," Ringlô said as she laid her hand on her daughters face. But her daughter took her hand off. And said, "No mother, they ARE, they are in the edges of the forest!"
Ringlô's eyes got wide and she looked at her daughter who was breathing so heavily, her chest would be seen, going up and down. Ringlô made a quick move towards her husband, who was celebrating with a few friends. She lent to his ear and whispered that men were in the edge of the forest. Her husband didn't show any sign of disbelief. But he was smiling.
"My friends," he said loudly to his companions "Men are coming here to celebrate us!" All his friends clapped merrily, but one.
"We need to call help. From the Moon Elves" the companion who didn't clap said.
"What are you talking about, Ugric?" Ringlô's husband said, puzzled.
"Do you really think they are here to congratulate us?" Ugric said in distaste, as if just had a poisonous herb "They are too proud for it. I don't understand why they left, neither do I understand why they would come to congratulate us!" Ugric had rose. Ringlô and Blaise weren't alone. Ugric was wearing a long elven cloak, and underneath it, a black robe. You wouldn't name him "wise" by the look of him, but he seemed rather wise enough to race with wizards, with his voice and the certain and bold.
Ugric was the wisest in their village. And hi history was rather complicated. He had been living with Moon Elves, for a long time, and had his childhood there, or so he said. And then he lived in the forest, alone, and he wondered far, far enough to amaze any ranger. But after every journey, he turned back to forest, his "home".
She had been eying him too long not to be noticed. People were looking at her. And she looked away as soon as she came back to world from memories of Ugric and realized everybody was looking at her.
"You read the signs as I do," she said to Ugric "I have been worried for long."
Ugric was intelligent, and he asked in a singsong voice "Then why not rise the village?"
"Who would believe me?" she asked hoarsely "Who? Give me ONE example I could count on. And also, my daughter, my little daughter just told me she was afraid. So afraid of the danger she senses, she said she couldn't ignore the signs anymore. What would people say, if I told I and my daughter saw the danger coming?"
"They would laugh at you." Ugric told shortly and clearly "But I would not. Why not come to me, at the first place?"
Ringlô stood there, her mouth wide open, speechless. A last she coughed and said; "I do not know. I know your wise ness, but I could not be sure not to be laughed at."
"True… True…" said Ugric, thoughtfully "Do you know where they are?" he asked suddenly.
"I –" she halted "They have been traveling for days. Slow, humans are. But today, they have reached the edges of the Druadan."
The war was coming. And Men were closer than elves ever led them come. They were coming trough the leaves of Druadan Forest. They were coming for war. And yet war came, in the darkness of the night. But only half the village was asleep. The ones who believed in Ugric and Ringlô were ready for war. They had called the Firien Wood for help. As this was the war of whole Gondor. If Men passed Druadan, they would go for all Gondor.
Gondor was also in the kingdom of Men. But the Men who came and the Men who ruled Gondor were not the same. The wise Kingdom of Gondor was ruled by Aragorn son of Arathorn in these times time. And elves saw no Men as wise as the "Strider" of many, Aragorn son of Arathorn for Gondor. He was raised by the elves themselves, and had abilities yet not known to Men. He could do things that only elves could. But still, only one man could not change the whole Men, unfortunately. And power-hungry Men now wanted the power of the elves, an elven army. Which would take over Gondor easily. And maybe power-hungry Men would wan more, when did they not want more?
And yet Firien sent help, more than half of their warriors; two hundred bow elves, three hundred sword-master elves and five hundred horse- elves. Grey Elves were better at fighting at night than the Sea Elves. But yet, they could not save the entire village. They were fighting and trying to save the villagers at the same time. And their fighting desire won saving desire. Because they knew, if they didn't fight and keep bringing people to the same, well-protected house, Men would go for that house and get more elves than they would have if they only fought. So they fought.
War was won by the elves. But elves did not celebrate. They lost too many. Druadan lost a thousand of two. And Firien lost none. But they felt like they lost their own people, towards the lost Druadans.
The survivors of the Druadan were those who ran or got escaped by Grey Elves. But yet there were still three people who survived but did not run or got carried away. They were the best fighters of Druadan. Ringlô the Bow-elf, Ugric the Wise and Blaise the aier (elvish word, meaning; "Short one"). Blaise was four years old, and she survived. She used the bow as if using her hand. And yet she was brave and did not escape, and of course, she was the daughter of Ringlô the great Bow-elf.