The journey
Chapter two
Azrael POV
(AN: THE WORDS IN RED FONT ARE AZRAEL'S THOUGHTS)
I wait in the shadows for the cluster of orcs to pass me. They speak in the rude tone of Mordor. They are complaining about their newest task, as usual. I slip past the next cluster, easily blending in with the background. I walk outside and the dank air fills my lungs. I start to cough, then silence myself, rebuking my lungs to stay silent. I see the back entrance into Mordor, the Winding Stair, very far to fall, or so I have heard. I quickly run across an extremely thin pathway that stretches from the back door to the first step. I set my foot on the first step and look back. Never have I been this far, the orcs and I always spar in the courtyard of Mordor, one of the few spots I am allowed to venture. After I take this step, I will be leaving my home, my land. I teeter tentatively on the step and then make my decision.
I step up, then up another step. Right foot first, then the left. Right foot, left foot. It is like a mantra to me. I am just about to reach the top of the staircase and carry on to ground, when I hear thundering after me. a cluster of orcs noisily clatter up the stairs. I do not know these orcs, they must be new. Disiloft's distraction must have failed. These orcs must be here to take me back to Mordor. If I go with them, I shall suffer the wrath of my father. I shake my head, I am not going back! I run ahead, up the last few steps and then onto the ground. I look back to the orcs, seem to come closer. I look to the front of me and nearly fall.
In front of me, the hill stopped abruptly. I nearly fall over, into the ground far below, but quickly regain my balance and fall backwards, onto the hard ground. I get up and the orcs are almost upon me. Perhaps I ought to kill them. I think. I could not kill an orc if even my father demanded it. The orcs are my friends. I stand there defeated, not knowing what to do. I hold my hands up in surrender. The cluster of orcs come closer and laugh at my stupid attempt to run away. My hands are still in the form of surrender when something takes me up in the air and away.
The creature flies with me in its claws, high up in air. I scream and try to shake myself free. The creature bellows and sets me down on a rocky outlet. I fall, then pick myself up, retrieving my bow and nocking an arrow. I whip around, but the creature is nowhere to be seen. In the distance, I see Mordor. There are a number of orcs, all who seem to be seeking me. Then , a sound appears behind me. I turn around. It is a fire-drake. I have seen many frames of them, and skeletons, but never have I actually seen one. I waiver, wondering if the drake is wondering to kill me then, it speaks to me, in the language of Mordor.
"Peace, My Lady. My name is Shiom, and I am here to help you. Lower your bow, I can help you escape, and I will help you find your brother."
"How will you do that? How do you know my brother?" I ask skeptically.
'I know elves. They can help you. They know many things.' I debate on whether to go with the drake.
"I do not trust to easily. How do I know you will not kill me?" I ask him.
'I speak in the language of Mordor. Is that not trust enough for you?' he asks me. I sigh, then nod. He sits down, patiently awaiting me on his back. I lay one hand on his red back, the scales thick and hard.
"How impressive is your fire?" I inquire.
'Very, my lady. Even more than my relative.' I nod, I have heard of his relative. I mount onto his back.
"Where should I hold onto?" I ask him, unsure where my hands should be.
'Around my neck, of course. Hold tight, but not too tight.' he advises me. I nod and wrap my hands around his firm neck. His claws dig into the gravel and he pushes off into the unknown air. The wind, what wind there is in Mordor, rises us up into the air.
We ride on the clouds, Shiom's wings touch the clouds as they flow down, disappearing, then reappear when the wings fly up again. We fly up in the air, higher than the eagles, then suddenly Shiom plummets down. I scream with laughter and Shiom roars along with me. We land a few leagues outside a forest-encrusted area.
"Shiom, what is this?" I asked him in the Mordor tongue.
"Now, this is Mirkwood." He says.