Author's notes: Welcome to Stained, a dark fantasy psychological drama, with elements of action/adventure and romance.
Stained is divided in two parts:
- The first one, Mirkwood, is where our story begins. In this part prevail elements of drama and romance. There will be some action, some dark imagery and depictions of violence, but the main focus will be on our characters' psyche and the relationships between them. This part is necessary for the set-up of the second one,
- Dol Guldur. This is where the story turns into a dark fantasy tale. There will be graphic depictions of violence, dark imagery and a general grim vibe.
Throughout the story, I will touch upon tricky and unsettling subjects that might not be everyone's cup of tea. There won't be further warning tags to avoid spoilers, but you will be able to see what's coming as the story progresses, so there shouldn't be any sudden surprises. However, I can provide you with warning tags if you pm me.
I'd love to read your comments and your reviews, so let me know what you think!
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part I
Mirkwood
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Chapter title: Prologue
Long ago, she was a different woman with a different name.
Back then, in the hazy depths of her past, she had a family. That was so long ago that she can barely remember their faces now. No more than blurry fragments of a life that may or may not have existed.
She was somebody else back then. She was Nibelloth. That name brings a chuckle to her lips now - a pitiful thing. The jagged piece of a mirror that reflects her lost self. But the fact is that back then she was Nibelloth and she had a family.
They lived at the outskirts on Greenwood the Great, Nibelloth with her parents, two brothers and a sister. All she can remember are sunny days; the shade under the canopy of green leaves; a few rays of sunlight breaking through to dance on the sweet-smelling grass.
That was peace for her. To the end of her days, that was the equivalent of peace for Nibelloth: the smell of the southern woods, golden cracks in the green half-light, somebody - probably her sister - singing. Back before Greenwood the Great became Mirkwood. It's funny, but she can't remember anything else. The rest of that life is like a dream: the images fade when she tries to recall them.
The days before the Orcs are but a sunny blur, but she can remember everything after with painstaking accuracy. And she remembers the day the sun went out.
The Orcs came and poisoned the ground, filled the air with hate and darkened the clouds. The Orcs came and killed them all.
They attacked on a moonless night, quick and stealthy like shadows. The elves of southern Greenwood, lulled in their peace, did not expect an attack. None of them was prepared and, for most of them, the ground that was their home became their resting place. They fell from swords, poisoned arrows and fire. The whole world went up in flames that night. The smoke carried screams to the sky, howls of pain and horror and the awful victorious shrieks of the Orcs.
Some elves tried to fight back; she tried, too, with a bow and arrows and an untrained hand, but she lost her weapons. They clattered on the ground from her numb fingers as she watched her mother's head being bashed in by an axe. She stood frozen and stared as they defiled her body. She stood there, with ashes in her eyes and screams in her ears, and she could do nothing. Flesh was sliced, bodies charred and burned, and she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe for the air was thick with the smell of death.
She would have fallen there, on that night. Among the bodies of her loved ones and the grass that had known her for all her life. She would have fallen with nothing but sunny memories in her mind. The trees that sung her to sleep each night would whisper her last lullaby. They were singing now for her mother and father, her sister and one of her brothers, but their wail turned into a sigh when a pair of hands carried Nibelloth away from the fire and the death and the blood. She never understood if it was a sigh of relief or pity, but it chased her as she run, blindly following the hand that led her through the woods.
The hand grasped hers tightly, steady and secure and pulling her decisively forward. The screams and the shrieks and the sighs died slowly away, the angry glow of the fire hid behind black trunks, but they still ran. Nibelloth was aware of her feet being slashed by thorns and of her lungs burning, but her mind was away from her body. It was back, under the singing trees, in front of her mother's crushed skull, before her sister's torn body and her father's blackened skin.
It was only when a sob escaped from her companion that she realized it was her younger brother, Belegorn, still alive, still with her, running with hands slick by blood and refusing to let go.
"Hold on, sister", he was heaving through his tears. "Hold on".
With a heart-wrenching effort, she tore her mind away from the shattered skulls and the funeral lullabies. She gripped his hand tighter and she held on as they ran together, away from death and danger and peaceful, sunny days.