Chapter One *~*Chapter One*~*

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*Two Months Earlier*

" Legolas, duck!" a cry came to the Prince's ears just before the blade of a sword soared through the air. It lodged itself into the tree Legolas had been standing in front of only moments ago with a great thud.

" We need reinforcements! We cannot fight like this forever! They will overcome us." Thindolfin said tiredly.

" We are wounded my Prince, we must retreat!" Legolas was loath to run from the beasts that were attacking his camp, but, he knew that his companion spoke truly.

The elves camp was being swarmed with Orcs, their evil auras casting a shadow over the area, the elves, and , it seemed, even the brightly shining sun.

The Prince of Mirkwood surveyed his comrades. They looked exhausted, their clothing covered with blood, their own as well as that of the Orcs. Legolas himself knew that he looked no better than they did. He could feel his golden hair plastered to his scalp, saturated with sweat and gore. He closed his eyes momentarily and gave a deep sigh.

" Fall back, take to the trees!"

The company of elves quickly fell away from the escalating battle. Putting on their last bit of strength, they fled the marauding Orcs, retreating into the less dangerous territories of Mirkwood.

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The King of Gondor stood tall and silent on the balcony, seeing all and nothing simultaneously. The sun had just begun to sink below the terrain in the distance, striking the sky with brilliant colors of purples, oranges, and pinks.

Aragorn sighed, and looked towards the sky once more. It had been several days since his most trusted scout had been dispatched to retrieve news of the world. Several days had passed, and he had yet to return, nor had any indication of his well-being been sent.

He sighed again, and ran a hand over his face, worry lines beginning to etch themselves upon his countenance.

Suddenly, behind him, the heavy door to his chambers was flung open, and a shaken and pale Faramir stood framed in the doorway.

" My liege," he said with a respectful dip of his head, " there is something you should-...our scout has returned."

*~~*~~*

The stench of the corpse reached Aragorn's nose before he held the sight within his vision.

The scout had been decapitated, then, the head crudely sewn back on with leather strips. The scout's face was frozen in an expression of horror, the pallor of the face a sickly yellowish green.

There was a thick silence as the King gazed at the mutilated body. Anger and rage surged into Aragorn's heart.

" His death shall be avenged." He said quietly before turning sharply on his heel and walking away from the scene of death.

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Erithil ran lightly through the hallway, stopping at every corner, peeking discreetly around to make sure he was alone. He darted towards the heavy wooden door situated at the end of the hallway. The boy stood on tiptoe to reach the metal ring on the front, and pulled with all his might. The heavy door swung ponderously open with a slight creak.

Erithil winced at the noise, and scanned the hallway behind him, hoping fervently that no one had heard. He tentatively stepped into the dank room, and the door immediately swung shut behind him, leaving an ominous echo in its wake. He swung around at the noise, his heart beating erratically in his ears. Hesitantly, he turned back to the expanse of the room, letting his eyes rove across the meticulously organized scrolls.

He started forward, a look of awe on his young face. His bright eyes came to rest on a jewel-encrusted goblet, perched atop a high reaching encasement. The gems glinted curiously in the dim light of the chamber.

Slowing his pace, Erithil gazed at the enticing artifact, longing to touch it. He cast his eyes about the room for something he could stand on, anything he could use to reach the beautiful chalice. He spied a stool in the corner, half hidden by the room's deep shadows. Without any hesitation, he dragged it over to the encasement, and pulled himself up on top of it. He was just short of reaching it.

The boy's brow furrowed in concentration as he pondered his dilemma. He stood again on tiptoe, his hand straining to reach the coveted prize. Almost! He scowled until another idea struck him. He jumped slightly, his hand closing on empty air. He tried once more, this time a little higher. His fingers just brushed the surface of the goblet. He jumped as high as he could and grabbed the goblet, feeling the jewels press into his palm.

The moment his feet touched the stool, it gave way, collapsing under his weight. The elvish youth managed a strangled cry before he hit the floor, the pretty thing flying out of his hand. He sat up, rubbing his head, and looked skyward right as the encasement's contents came crashing down upon him.

Erithil threw up his arms over his head as he was showered by the ancient writings. He stifled a sneeze, and made his way out of the pile of parchment, searching for the chalice. The object sat a few feet away from him. Erithil stooped to pick it up, and the object fell away into two pieces in his hands.

Dismayed, the boy inspected the broken goblet carefully. He reached down into the base of it, surprised to find it hollow. He slowly drew out a rolled up piece of yellow parchment, sealed with an ancient elvish seal. The youth hurriedly rolled the parchment open, spying the faded elvish writings...it read...

A change is coming,
A shadow is growing,
Choking the life out of Middle Earth.
It will destroy those who live for good,
Those who live in the light,
There is, however, One whose light is bright enough to defeat this darkness.
One with hair of gold,
Eyes as blue as the heaving sea,
One who dwells in leaves of green,
One who hails from the lineage of old,
The One whom this evil will seek.
Beneath the sky, beyond the sea, behind a gate,only the One can see.
His destiny awaits upon a throne, a crown of mithrail in the sunlight glows,
Treading through a land with soil like coal,
This quest shall take his immortal soul.

Erithil gasped, balling the paper up in his small hand. He shoved it into his pocket, hoping to take it with him. He made his way back to the door at the entrance of the room. He casually stepped out and began walking back to his chamber, a secretive smile on his face, his hand shoved in his pocket, fingering his newfound treasure.