Fate Creation, And Destruction
Fate Changer
Where am I? My nose detects a prickling sensation near my nose. It annoys me, and I wipe it away. My fingers jump from what I feel on the tips of them. This causes my eyes to jolt fully awake. Several blurred green strands jut out from all around me, and I feel them beneath me as well. The question remains yet still unanswered. Where. Am. I. I am then, instantly aware of someone touching my arm. I jump up and run. Ignore the voice that is calling and calling to me. I just keep running.
3 years later –
A One in A Million Chance
Dim lighting cast shadows and light alike throughout a hall. One figure, sat shrouded in silence as light and shadow danced across the polished marble floors. He had been pulled out of his thoughts by one of his kin's voices calling him.
"Ada?" The figure who sat there shifted in response to the voice that had called him.
"What is it, R'ed?" The one who had called him was his son.
Half of his face poked out into the light. "The Glad Sentrui has found something rather strange." This mildly piqued his interest, though his mentally he denied the possibility.
"Oh?" The man on the throne stood from his throne, and moved from in the light. Upon close look, these men where not men at all.
Instead, they were elves. "They said she looked as if she did not belong to any of the known cities."
Thranduil snorted mildly. "And how would they know that?" He didn't bother hiding the annoyance from his tone.
"Ada, she was headed in the direction of the Abandoned Land," his son was explaining.
Now, that earned a raised eyebrow or two. "That place is a dead land. Nothing has grown there, even after the defeat of Sauron."
It was then he stopped to consider again. What would anyone want with that place? His son nodded at him, knowing his father had finally caught on to what he had been trying to say.
"...Two elves." He told his son.
The elf looked at him, confused. "Send two elves after her, I care not whom. You are only to follow her, and intervene only if it is truly necessary." His son inclined his head and said nothing more, he turned and disappeared from whence he came.
-Legolas' POV -
I had double checked the sentry who had seen her, making sure every detail was painstakingly correct. The fact that the sentry reported she was running away in the direction of Mordor confused and unnerved everyone who knew. And because the rumors could not be stopped, it had spread like Magefire. His mind drifted back to his father's words.
"Two elves." He grumbled to himself mentally. What his father really meant was one elf. Particularly, him.
-ScreamWake's PoV-
It was three years ago when I had awoken from a slumber.
Three years since I had awoken, not knowing where I am. All I know is that this is not the Earth, the planet that I know. The chains attached to my neck clink softly with a slight movement of my head. The chains are attached to a spiked collar.
Courtesy of the orcs, shall we say.
My hair is a matted and ugly mess. If it becomes too long, I cut it off and throw it away.
Upon my face sits a metal mask.
I don't wear anything fancy, like most women out in this world seem to. Did you know, that the day that I ran from being woke up in the forest, that somehow, my ears became pointed? I didn't mind them and I even thought that they were cute.
Until I ran into the orcs, that is.
They had found me. They bound me in chains that felt lighter in the midst of mind numbing fear. But I shall tell you that I certainly felt what came next. One of the orcs approached me, an ugly blade in his hand. That very same orc sliced off both of my new ears. He took his time, enjoying another's burdens and misery.
One time, I snapped because of their abuses. I killed an orc by bludgeoning it in the skull several times with a nearby half mangled log. Someone pulled me away from the dead then, and afterwards the orcs decided on a punishment.
They decided that I would drag along two massive wooden clubs.
Now, orcs have particular habits. A couple of them are raiding villages and killing. Their third favorite thing is to cause destruction. I had no choice sometimes but to defend myself. Once, I had been attacked by a random villager whose home we had been raiding.
What happened was purely a reflex, no matter what fragment of conscience I have any more tells me.
My wooden clubs reacted in time with my hands, the chains that were attached to the clubs wrapped around the man's throat. My clubs had already arched down and cracked thunder upon his skull. The three orcs with me looked at me openmouthed, then knocked me out themselves.
That, is how I woke up with the collar. They had chains on them, the chains where linked to my weapons. Which, had received a twisted upgrade.
Dark rusted blades now protruded from them both in funny angles.
Scars. Years. Fear. Months. Minutes.
These are things that died before my eyes and shriveled to dust in my mind.
Years with the orcs have given me a reputation as well.
Rare few people who have survived orc raids babble in blind fear about a creature whose screams are like that of a Nazgul. That, is how I got my nickname.
ScreamWake.
They say I am in all directions when I attack, my call that helps to spur the orcs into a blood frenzy carries long across the land. It carries unmercifully into the ears of those who slumber, the unfortunate dead.
The newest, unfortunate, dead.
My real name is buried in my mind, a buried memory. I shift carefully in my cage, trying not to make much noise. My head turns to the side, and rests on the night cooled metal of the cage I call home.
I don't remember falling asleep and allowing the night to take over.
No Ones POV
No one moved. We had been watching the orcs since yesterday evening.
Observe, always.
That is the first thing you do. Elrond insisted that the orcs have been behaving strangely, even rumors of a strange creature that aids them.
So, that is the reason for my kin and myself being here. We will bury this orc filth once again, piece by piece. One by one.
ScreamWake's POV
I was awoken by the screams of the dying.
Had it been any other scream, I would have ignored it and simply gone back to sleep.
However, this is not the case. Things rip across the camp, sinking into flesh.
Arrows.
The arrows are rewarded with the screams of dying orcs. I fell no remorse; I feel no anger. I feel not relief either, from the death of the captors that have held me for years, months, minutes, and hours. I simply sit there as the carnage that only death can bring continues around me.
None have come to unlock the cage in which I sit, so I must not be needed.
They are dying? Why do the orcs not unlock my cage? I can help can't I?
I remain still, watching the carnage unfold before continue, until finally, it seems to come to a conclusion. I cannot see much, but I know the attackers are dressed in armor, the shiny kind.
I can see it glinting, even on this moonless night. It doesn't comfort me, and I have made a choice. I may not be able to help them physically. But, I have one last weapon I can use.
My scream.
So I screamed. I filled my lungs, feeling the air wheeze through my lungs. Then I let it out, ringing to the night. The rustic, siren like scream tore out.
-? POV-
What in Valar!
There were no mentions of Nazgul being here! Damn that Elrond for getting his information wrong!
The scream died down in intensity, and as it did, an arrow struck the final orc.
Dead.
I felt the elven men around me close into a firm line of defense.
Then, my son, nodded his head to something that was before us.
My gaze followed to what his eyes meant for me to see.
I barely masked my sharp intake of breath as a sigh.
A figure sat straight and unmoving. I had to squint through darkness that was now tainted by the faintest of moonlight.
However, gazing upon the figure I determined that it was a she. And she, would have been marked dead to normal eyes perhaps.
But she is very much alive.
It is then I note her face is masked by what looks to be some sort of mask that would perhaps, be befitting for a knight. There are slit holes where her eyes and mouth would have been.
Then my gaze maps out chains attached to a collar on her throat, and the chains on the opposing ends are attached to massive wooden clubs that seem to have blades protruding from them.
I take a few steps forward, and am stopped in my tracks by her, as she watches me with great attention. She has hissed at me, and her disdain furrows into one low growl.
Wonderful. Why, oh why, is it that I seem to be the one who always gets the odd end of things.
- SCREAMWAKES POV-
He steps closer, and no doubt means to come even closer.
Too bad for him, I have no intentions of letting him come any nearer.
Not yet.
I let out a hiss that slices the silence in the air, and it turns into a low growl that hums through my metal cage.
I can see them gazing at me through their own helmets.
Just as I am. One of them steps forth again, but removes his helmet and squats down.
We are at level with each other with our gazes. The moon has revealed itself in the sky, illuminating what I see before me.
I cannot say that I am not surprised.
He is an elf.
He looks stern, what others could even consider scary even.
But he is an elf.
He would not harm one of his own race, surely?
Even if I technically, am not of this world? I have decided what I will do.
I raise a skinny pale finger to point at that blue eyed ellon, then turn my hand upside down, so it shows into a different signal, signaling him to come forth. He does, and the others I detect titter nervously.
I brush my hair back, pushing it back from my ears.
Or, where my ears were, three years ago. I bend my head to the side, showing him the scars and bumped, mottled flesh where my ears once where.
I was wondering if he had seen them I heard the sharp intake of breath again. Only this time, he did not bother to mask it.
I had been wondering if he saw my lack of ears.
I had been wondering if he hair gotten the unspoken message betweenst us two.
That proved fruitful with results, as there was an intake of breath that he, this time, had not masked. I was hoping he would understand, and I was pleased that he understood well enough.
I snaked my wrist out through the bars of the cage, my hand pushed out a pointer finger that said silently "You," then turned my hand with two fingers that said next "Come."
I wanted him to come closer. And he did.
Of course, his present company shifted uneasily but yet, they dared not intervene.
Not physically, anyway.
"Are you sure that would be wise Ada"?
The stern looking elf looked back and, true to what I presumed about his character, he silenced all questions with one look.
He had been kneeling by my cage while he leveled them with a stare. My wrist slithered silently from its cage.
Whether I did this half consciously or not, I know that my fingertips grazed, ever so gently, one of the elf's ears.
The one that faced my way when he had turned his head. At least this elf knew who he was.
Speaking of said elf...
He turned rigid at my touch, and I withdrew my hand quickly.
I would not take the chance that this elf may cause me to perhaps lose a finger or two.
That had nearly been the case a few times with the orcs, and I'd end up cursing my curiosity.
This elf however, turned me outright rigid when I saw.
When I saw what he looked like.
And I mean past the glamour that he was apparently using.
I whispered in a language I picked up from the modern world of which I had originated. From a video game that was popular in my youth, or rather when I had it.
"Grotiin los fin klov tol lost fin du'ul."
(Heavy is the head that has the crown.)
It was a language of dragons, Dovah. I was confident that not a soul would understand and I was right.
A language I borrowed from Skyrim, a game I used to play then. The male elf regarded me in surprise that was torn away swiftly.
The howl of wargs greeted our ears.
They broke through the wall of green vegetation, descending upon elves who were as ready to fight as the wargs were.
Immediately my brain is confronted with two options. I can most definitely shatter this cage to pieces.
But after that?
I can fight alongside these... elves.
Or, I can flee.
But a moment later I have once again, made my choice.
I screech as I rise to my feet, yet still crouching due to the roof of my cage.
But I have planted my feet apart, with my hands out from my body.
Shrill howls and even shriller yelling helps to make up the music that is this battle.
I screech once more and begin to slowly force the metal bars apart. They groan in offences that I ignore.
*CRACK*
Ah, yes. That is the desired result.
The bars and the ones that were near have broken under the strain crumple before me, and I swing one of my massive clubs down upon the skull of an unsuspecting warg.
This too, is another favored result as the skull cracks under the blunt force trauma, and I find myself smiling under my dark metal mask that I have grown bonded to.
My mask.
A piece of me, no separate than your heart from your chest.
-? POV-
Well now. I did not expect to see this strange one help out with this current battle. My eyes multitasked between her, and any orc or wargs that would challenge me. Speaking of such challenge...
* fwwzzp*
Any orc that thinks it can sneak up on an elf is mad. Come to think of it, they all are. Thusly, the extra orc head that had just now hit the ground.
A scream of agony jolted my attention, and I was immediately filled with dread at the sight. A warg had grasped my son's leg in it's teeth. An orc neared, weapon raised. The filth was going to-*CRACK*
*CRRNCH*
I stared as the masked one, in a fit of temper, had made sure that both warg and orc were nearly simultaneously dispatched. One of the bladed edges upon one of her blunt weapons had claimed the orc's skull, and life for that matter.
The warg however, was just a mangled pile of indistinguishable fur. I do believe I saw it shudder once, then succumb to stillness.
Now, this enraged she beast stands protectively over my son, his face contorted in pain. She snarls in rage through her metallic mask.
It's only then I realize her one weapon is still embedded in the skull of the orc that she slayed.
*FZZZP*
A warg has made the mistake of lunging for me. The animalistic growl is cut short to an embarrassing gurgle, for it's throat has been slit by my sword. The dead weight crashes into a tree nearby, and continues to suffocate on it's own blood.
Speaking of the strange woman. My eyes have made out that she has dodged an orcish arrow. Her chain on her left arm has winded itself around her arm, and with the force of an oliphant, she had swung the corpse of the orc at the two others. The force was enough to stun them and leave the wind knocked from their lungs.
Of course, elven warriors from my company have wasted no time in coming to the aid of their Prince. That being said, swords had been put to the two fallen orcs.
They were no longer a problem.
-SCREAMWAKES POV-
I saw the elf be dragged across the ground. His scream, ripped through me and seemed to strike the very stone of my soul. This was just another time where my body speaks more than mind. My actions are immediate, delivering death on swift wings to the orc and wary. I feel the elf's breathing hitch.
And I feel more rage.
Rage, that causes me to swing my left arm with full force with an orcish corpse still attached to my left hand weapon. The result is two orcs with the wind knocked out of them. My surprise is pleasant, for elves have come to protect this elf by my side. I am, to say the least, pleased for the elves quick wit.
They chose, to ignore the fact that I am a stranger, they are willing to put aside differences. The elves pounce upon the orcs I have downed, and in mere seconds they exist no more.
My hearing, I still have and use. I can detect no further orcs incoming, and I see not enemies before me. I turn and look at the brave elf.
He regards me with curiosity, even through pain riddled eyes. My gaze drifts to his wounded leg. Fortunately, I can help this mere elf boy.
I extend my hands onto his leg and concentrate.
I look at the prince. He is a young one, barely even considered to be an adult. I see his fear and I wish to comfort him, but this wound in his leg has entered a artery in his leg. I must hurry. My hands are nearly shaking themselves.
Before any can move to stop me, I began to chant words. I hid this ability from the orcs. The last thing I needed was for them to know. But these elves can know. I trust them.
I clear my throat and begin.
" Oo ves gol, Zu'ul hei wah hei wah tolsek aan kiir do hein siifur, aan kiir do fin gol,
tol los hei."
(Oh precious earth, I call to you to heal a child of your own, a child of earth that is you.)
I barely finished the spell just as fatigue took me. I crumpled to the side of the prince. As my eyes closed, I could make out gentle tree roots that had wrapped around the princeling's leg. Good. At least the earth heard me.
-Thranduil's POV-
I stared.
Other eyes stared.
By Eru, we all stared.
And we all felt the almighty presence of the earth shift as the roots of a nearby tree coiled around my son's bloodied leg. The tree's gnarled root glowed as the strange masked woman fell unconscious with a last groan.
The tree itself groaned as the root retracted away from my son's injury. Legolas,who gazed wide eyed at the whole incident that transpired. He was crowded immediately and I was there, gazing down at him. The guards backed away with shocked raspy voices. Gasps of alarm.
"My king... his wound is gone!"