chapter 3. Almost Dying

Normally I would never try to ride a deer. Their legs would wobble and they couldn't carry anything more than myself on there backs. It quite a emergency situation, and after a few hundred meters of sprinting the deer could take it no more. As we were going downhill its knees buckled, and I tumbled face first into the dirt with the deer collapsing on me. This deer had the wits not to annoy me. Before I could fetch out an arrow it quickly ran away and sprinted out of sight.

After cursing, I got up on my good leg and dusted myself off. I had lost my deer. Grumpily I crossed my arms like a child would do. It was so pathetic that I left home to hunt, hunted down something, got hunted down and lost the prey I had hunted down. And not to mention the terrible wound on my thighs. I glared up at the sky, and I've heard enough stuff from my brother to know how to curse. It wasn't good to hear for a ten-year-old kid.

Day was still short. The sun was setting, and with dread I could almost hear the slashing of swords and clinging of armor. It certainly didn't make things better, and I knew I had to leave or hide. And pray that those pesky elves did a fine job holding them off. By then I was more annoyed than scared. Bless us elflings and our blind bravery.

Starting to rethink my situation I realized that I was stuck somewhere awkwardly in the middle of the way home, and either way it would be equally difficult and painful to get there. I could hop home on my good leg, which even my undeveloped brains knew wasn't practical. Or I could run home and expecting to have a limp leg all my life. When I reach home, either way it would be no use. I just hoped my siblings could handle the situation and move themselves. They could call a horse with the wonderful ability—"oh Valar how I wish I had it!"—my sister had with animals. Then they could get away, hopefully if the orcs have no horses.

But for me, I had no choice but to hide. With much effort I made my way to the tallest, thickest tree I could find. I was desperate. I started to climb that tree with my bare hands and only one leg. That was how desperate I was. When I almost reached the first brach, I reached up for it. Unfortunately, I forgot about my wounded leg. I found a foothold with my right leg and gave a kick; I howled in pain and fell like a rugged sack, then I hit the ground so heavily I temporarily blacked out in pain.

When I groaned and looked up, I scowled. It was getting dark. The sound was getting louder and closing in, so close that I could even make out what they were saying. " Got rid o'them," said one laughing cruelly, " the pretty blonde one ran away, place's clear."

My jaws dropped. No way could they get beaten… There were at least ten of them!

Then I understood it only meant that… There were a lot more then ten orcs. I quickly realized I'd be a dead elf. Very soon, very soon.

I silently said my death words: " I hate those creatures. I hope they all die. Painfully. I hope my brother and sister are alright. I hope I won't rest in peace and may my ghost haunt those orcs all their lives if I die."

Anger was what rose in my chest after despair. After that there was the determination so strong it made me do something terribly scary, but made no regrets for me throughout my whole life. I will die a fighter, not a coward. I might be the looser, but I will die knowing that at least I tried. It didn't come out so gloriously then. It was more like stubbornness— a child calling out grumpily to herself: " I don't want to die!"

I couldn't recall how I did that before the orcs arrived. I only know that every now and then there would be an ache in my leg, not too painful to distract me but noticeable still, and I would think that perhaps I was not completely healed. Or, sometimes worried, I would think maybe that one wound the march warden's men gave me, somehow indicated a much more conflicted life with them in the future.

—

I scanned my eyes through the crowd a few trees from mine, and I thought " How dare them settling down so close!" I was up in the tree, wounded leg perched uncomfortably on the branch as I knelt to blend in. There were at least twenty of them, each armed with huge jagged swords and knives. Usually it would have made my eyes shine at those weapons, but now I didn't dare to breathe. There was no blood on them, which probably meant the elves survived mostly. I wished no one cleaned their sword on the way.

I was planning to sneak away at midnight and find a place far enough for them to never find me. I would have more or less six hours to limp away, I prayed it would be enough. Caught up in thought, the mention of one word bought my attention back to what they were saying.

" Mordor…" An orc with a long scar across his ugly face mused, " Aye, we kill to help him rise. What are we gonna get for that?" he slammed his piece of meat down in his lap, assuming there was no plate and the meat seemed raw, I swear I saw bloodstains on his rags.

" Fool!" Another one sneered. " The white wizard is going to pay. If he doesn't, however," He stood up and threw his food aside, his face twisted with hate, " We are going to make him pay!"

The orcs roared and banged their weapons together. In black speech and the common tongue their thoughts of evil spread like wildfire across the woods. Birds flew away from their night's rest. Squirrels squeaked and scattered away, leaving no life except for the orcs. And me sitting in the tree, petrified. I did not understand why. Or how. I could barely understand a few words. Mordor. The white wizard. The master. Power. Destruction. It left a mark in my head that wouldn't go away. It sounded really bad.

Cold wind picked up a chill in the woods and I shuddered.

Suddenly an orc growled. " I smell elf." My heart dropped dead. I was dead.

They pounded their way around, trying to find out where the scent came from. I was too frightened to do anything but beg silently: " Please… Help me… Please…"

There was a grunt, and the thud of a body falling down. And so the crowd exploded. "Elves!" they screeched and unsheathed their weapons to face whatever that was coming at them. My mind went blank. What just happened?

And I crouched there watching from above. In the numb rolling sensation of fear the first thing I saw was an elf on a horseback, a bow in hand and a quiver on his back. He notched an arrow and it made the kill with such perfection it left me with one word: " Wow."

His hair was golden in the firelight, and flames flickered in his crystal blue eyes. Shadows were casted onto his features and it made him look fierce and taunting, completely different from the elf who had tended my leg with tenderness only hours before. He looked around for the next victim. He's the march warden, I thought, he's destined to guard and protect. But there was one thing he could do that other guards couldn't do. He was also destined to lead. Following him were another twenty elves, who shouted out their own battle cries as they fought. Their knives were quick. Their swords were graceful. Their arrows whistled through the air, but my eyes were dawned on the march warden. A thousand feelings rushed through me as I watched. Relief. Admiration. Envy. Gratitude. Trust… and another thousand more I couldn't describe. Warmth flooded through me, and I broke down in tears. Which I later found was ridiculous and I furiously wiped them off, continuing to watch.

After a few more minutes, it was clear the orcs were fighting a loosing battle. Then the nightmares started with a single orc. It was under my tree, the same orc that had the great sense of smell. It looked up, and it sneered. I tried to move, or at least dodge, but my leg was no use. It took no time for him to aim at me with his bow and arrow.

Time seemed to slow down before death. I saw the arrow leave its notch, and it was flying at me, aiming the heart. It's now or never.

I closed my eyes and jumped. The arrow ripped through the air, just missing the back of my neck. My blood ran cold in my veins.

I landed on my feet, and there were stars in my eyes from pain and hunger and the cold. There was something wet on my feet, and I realized once I touched it was blood. The wound teared open, flesh showing, and so deep I could see the bones. Then I found out that I was crying as I scrambled away uselessly from the orc.

It only smirked, and notched another arrow. " It shot me in the arm, pinning me to an exposed tree root that happened to be in the way. I gasped.

Those…

Another one shot me, this time on the other arm, and I cried out in mercy. I was pinned down to the ground with two arrows which penetrated my flesh. My vision was red. My voice was hoarse from all the screaming. But my mind was clear. He didn't mean to kill. He tortured for fun.

Evil…

Another one notched, and shot me on my good leg. I made a groan in agony but my body was on fire. I could barely make out the shape of the orc before me. It laughed. " Little elflings should know better than to spy on others. Your daddy should have told you that. You know too much already! "

Filthy…

A kick knocked the air out of my lungs. I tasted blood in my mouth.

I hate…

Another punch in the stomach made me gurgle. There was something thick and metallic in my mouth. My ears rang. I didn't know how much blood I had lost.

Orcs…

I could no longer separate one pain from another. It was generally pure agony. Hatred filled my mind and it only made the pain more vivid than ever.

Revenge…

The kicks and punches reduced down to background senses. My mind was blank. My thoughts were hazy through a fog of sleepiness. And I saw the filthy creature raise a dagger high over my chest. I braced myself for the last thing I'm going to feel before death. Tears ran down my cheeks. It shouldn't have been this way.

Pain washed everything red. There was so much red. My whole body was burning. Images reappeared in my mind. I remembered the way it used to be before it all went wrong. And in that demon fire I could hear screaming again. I was running down that forest path, hand in my mother's hand as my brother navigated our way out secretly. We dodged debris that were falling, in the flames it looked like hell. " Ada!" I was crying and struggling to keep up. An orc had plunged its sword straight into his stomach and left him there to burn.

The next thing I knew, something dark of a shadow was falling towering over me. And I was thrown forward. With my sister's bloodcurdling scream, my mother's body disappeared under a falling tree. Her hand stuck out from its trunk, motionless. Then we were running. The fires lapped at our feet as we sprinted away, and when I looked back, everything I had once known was no more.

Those creatures deserve to die a painful death. I gritted my teeth, unable to endure the pain. Though I won't be part of the revenge anymore.

But the blow never came. There was a thud, then a klunk. Then it was silent.

" I need help!" someone yelled in the distance. The reality seemed far away.

" Ada," I called out, though there was no sound that came out of my bloody lips. " I'm coming."

But there was suddenly something hovering above me. There were the eyes of the march warden, and the eyes of many others. There were blues, greens, golds and browns. It made me remember the summer I was born in: warm, gentle, and above all, live. The blue sky, green trees, the brown dirt path I used to run along, sunsets that dyed the treetops the most brilliant gold…

In that sudden boost of energy I forced open my eyes, even for just a little. I tried to move my lips but it turned out as trembling so weak it was unnoticeable. My unseeing eyes bulged and stared straight ahead, glaring at whatever came in front of me. I wanted to live. They have to know I'm still alive.

But the march warden looked at me with sad eyes and shook his head in grief.

" She's the elleth we shot by accident at daytime," he said in disbelief. " She suffered so much, little one. Only those creatures can manage such cruelty. Poor girl."

No! I wanted to scream, though no sound came out. I don't want to die! And my siblings, they need me. Desperately I looked for any action to make them know I still wanted to live. It was no use. Soon, darkness overpowered me, and I seemed to be locked in a deep slumber.

" There is no hope left." he said, with a hand on my forehead, " She has passed away. We were too late."

Hey there, I'm Eugene. Thanks a lot for reading this chapter.

If you liked it, comment and tell me that you do! :D

If not, well, comment and tell me anything I can improve.

Thanks guys! ;)