It was a showery night in Minas Tirith with blades of water falling sharply from the night's sky. Pulses of electricity stirred over the horizon of the White City; a storm was gathering. Alec, fully cloaked in a glooming dark green hood and cape, hurriedly strode from his dwelling on the sixth level to the stable where his companion Severin was being held. Severin, a horse of midnight black, was in a tranquil state as Alec stroked his nose to greet his friend. No place for such a dignified creature, Alec thought to himself. The stable was crude and damp. Severin's stable was far too small to hold him comfortably. Originally a gift from his chieftain Aragorn, Severin had been Alec's horse for well over fifteen years and the two were scarcely apart. Severin was virtually within a whistle away from his master at all hours.

Alec mounted the horse and flew out of the stable in a fury, passing townsfolk scurrying under the stables' roof to keep out from the rain. They rode promptly through the stone streets as Alec tightly gripped Severin's reins. The thunder and lightning failed to startle Severin as it would a regular horse. The clanking of Severin's hooves against the cold ground drew attention from the locals as they looked on in speculation, though it was not unheard of to see a ranger scattering about the city in haste. Alec navigated level after level of his city until he approached the Great Gate.

He fumbled through his pockets until he produced his signature flask. Only his love of Ainurbane could match his love for this flask. The flask had been his since he came of age as a ranger well over sixty-five years ago. Made from stainless steel by his friend Ognar, a Broadbeam dward of the Blue Mountains and a master blacksmith, the flask was an impressive gift. Alec studied the flask before taking a swig. Elvish lettering shined in the moonlight: the phrase "SWORD OF MAN" had been etched into its steel by Hinandrith, Klonodor's Elven son. His thoughts, no matter how hard he tried, always seem to linger back onto his old friend. Dol Amroth was the destination. Alec hoped he'd find both Rellan and whatever was left of Klonodor there in Rellan's Tower. Alec envisioned Rellan in a comfy chair and a fire in the furnace grinning as a the lifeless face of Klonodor clutched his sword. The thought of Klonodor bent to Rellan's will repulsed him, but it seemed illogical: Why would Rellan make this move? He knew how Alec would respond. Life, it seemed, was a chess board to Rellan and everyone around him, save maybe Alec himself, were merely pawns in his game.

He knows I'm coming.

He wants me to.

Severin galloped across the dirt of Pelennor Fields. The field was empty save for the ranger and his horse. Alec knew he would need to reach Lossarnach soon and eventually Lebennin. He struggled with the possibility of stopping for the night in the safety of Linhir but it was a bit out of the way. Dor-En-Ernil would be next and then finally Dol Amroth.

Neveriel might be in Dol Amroth.

It had been many months since Alec had last seen and since then he was at constant battle with himself fighting the craving to visit her.

She probably isn't even there. She could be in Harad or a ship heading north. She could be anywhere.

He imagined her on some ship anchoring in Orc lands. She was the only women of this crew and the men often made passes out her. She was beautiful, of course, with her perfect dark hair and her sinless fawn eyes. She was wicked, that one, however. Alec imagined her shooting Orc and Goblin comfortably from a crow's nest and her smiling through it all. For the first time all night, a smile was molded to Alec's face.

Focus at the task at hand, Alec. Klonodor needs you. You left Neveriel because of your duty to your people. It would have never worked and you know it. It would have never worked...it would have never worked...never...worked...

The dream of Neverthiel stretched on for what seemed like an eon. Alec awakened some time there after. Dol Amroth came before he know.

How long have I been asleep?

It didn't matter. In the corner of his eye Alec saw an all too familiar sight: Rellan's Tower. The water that surrounded it. How isolated it was from the rest of the world. Perfect for Rellan.

A figure stood in the doorway as Severin braved the waters up to his knee. In his mind Alec could hear a voice saying "I knew you'd come."

It was Rellan.

"My boy," Rellan began warmly. "It has been some time."

"Spare me the jests, Rellan," Alec shot back.

"You have come for answers, I know. But please, do not enter my tower with malice. It is not welcome. There is work to be done. Please. Come in."

Rellan took down his hood, revealing his weather-beaten pallid face and gray hair. His hand found itself pushing on Alec's lower back, ushering him through the doorway. Alec looked around. Shelves full of books and scrolls. Tables covered in maps and manuscripts. Lockers full of potions and vials. The walls a depressing off-gray rock. The tower was cold even with a fire blazing.

"Please sit, boy," Rellan said, offering him a seat near the fire. "You will want to know what has become of your ranger friend Klonodor..."

Alec sat as Rellan stood facing a mirror in the corner. Rellan looked at his tired eyes, gazing at Alec at the sides of his eyes.

"Alec, my dear boy. I raised you up as an infant and I am proud of the man you have become. You know these are arduous times. Times where we must throw away our dated traditional standards of what is good and evil and play by a different moral code. It was been years, Alec. So many years since I stood distinguished in service to our realm. Our home. I was but a proud counselor to the steward Ecthelion for most of my years. When the good steward died, his lunatic dolt of a son inherited his seat as you know. That bastard Denethor. Of course, am only telling you what you already know. He hates us, Alec. He fears us. He excommunicated me because he let this fear drive him. He and his noble sycophants accused me of meddling in the dark arts, of consulting with the Enemy. It is he who is the dark one, Alec, my boy. But you know this already."

Alec looked on as Rellan turned away from the mirror and approached him slowly.

"It is time, Alec. Time at last. Denethor will be dead in no time. And what a beautiful day it will be when he is gone forever."

Alec interjected firmly. "You mean to assassinate the steward, Rellan?"

"And put his son Boromir, a fair nobler man, in his place," Rellan added. "Don't you see, Alec? This is the only way Gondor will be free of his madness."

Alec sat silent for a moment as Rellan's eyes didn't blink.

"Gondor deserved a finer steward than what they were given. Our instrument is ready, Alec. The perfect assassin."

Klonodor. He means Klonodor.

"You mean to use a champion of the Free People as a pawn to do your will? Rellan...oh, Rellan...how far have you fallen?"

Rellan, feeling the growth of his power, shouted out, "I AM AWAKEN, ALEC! AWAKEN!"

Rellan smirked masochistically. "I have kept this ranger friend of yours alive only because he is subservient and will do my bidding well. You must understand. I could not ask you to do this task for me, my boy. I could not ask you to kill Denethor."

Alec stood up and lurched over Rellan. "This cannot be the way, Rellan. Klonodor must be free. You cannot use him to exact your revenge on the steward. This is...wrong. I cannot be a part of this. Free Klonodor now, Rellan."

"Wrong? The only thing wrong is that Denethor still sits in power at the Citadel. I knew this wouldn't be easy for you, my boy. Your friendship and loyalty to the memory of Klonodor are blinding you of what needs to be done."

"No, Rellan...no..."

Out of the corner crept a figure. The fire's light illuminated his face. Klonodor. Or what was left of him.

Klonodor's mouth opened and faint words came out.

"Is that you...death?"

Alec was taken aback by his choice of words.

"Klonodor..."

Alec tried to embrace him but Klonodor's face remained stoic and his body limp.

"Old friend, I'm here for you. Rellan, you must free him," Alec begged.

Alec turned around and Rellan was gone. He heard the sound of Klonodor unsheathing his sword, Naurearnor. In an instant, Alec spun around and he met Klonodor's sword with his own. Naurearnor and Ainurbane lit the room up with sparks as Klonodor struggled not to be overpowered by Alec's thrust. Alec stepped away, still clenching his sword.

"No, Klonodor. It does not have to be this way," Alec pleaded.

"You stand in my way, Death. I must destroy you."

Klonodor shrieked. That cold-blooded shriek. It cooked Alec's ears. Alec backed away slowly and worked his way up the winding stone staircase. Klonodor moused lazily in pursuit. Klonodor hurtled forward with a massive blow that Alec blocked. The two exchanged strikes and thrusts all the way up the staircase. They made it outside to the tower's peak. Klonodor was tenacious. His sword stroked Alec over and again but could not land a blow. Alec was on the defensive. Klonodor held up Naurearnor over his head and let the sword crash down onto Alec, nearly piercing Alec's armor. Alec was pushed backwards from the impact. As he attempted to get up, Klonodor brought his boot to Alec's face. Alec, now bleeding from the nose and a gash on his face, pulled out a dagger and drove it completely through Klonodor's calf. Klonodor shrieked and Alec's shoulders raised trying to block out the sound.

With the knife still in his leg, Klonodor circled around the tower's peak as Alec remained in a defense position. Klonodor reached down and pulled the dagger from his calf and discarded it. His possessed eyes did not blink and no expression of pain reached his face.

He's not human.

"Death...Death...Death..."

Klonodor closed his mouth and poked his sword towards Alec's stomach. Alec swung his sword in a furious stroke, knocking Naurearnor from Klonodor's hands. Klonodor spat at Alec in a rage. Klonodor retrieved Naurearnor as lightning ignited amid the clouds and stars. Tired, Alec held up Ainurbane and yelled a horrifying war cry. Lightning struck the blade and electricity slithered around its steel.

"Ainurbane! Sword of Electricity! Slayer of wicked gods and evil men!"

A thunderous blow from Ainurbane met Klonodor's sword. The steel of Naurearnor shattered into fragments. Klonodor fell backwards as Alec pointed his sword toward Klonodor's neck.

"It is finished, my friend," Alec said somberly.

Klonodor's eyes kindled with horror as he studied Ainurbane hilt to its pointy end. His eyes stopped at the Elysian Shard and Klonodor was entranced. The shard flickered as blood trickled from a cut in Klonodor's forehead.

In the shard, Klonodor saw his beloved Elvellowen.

"Elvellonwen..."

"What of her? She is not here, my friend," Alec implored.

"I must...be with her...she was...taken from me...your sword...death's sword..."

Klonodor, on one knee now, tried to get up.

"I must...have...death's sword."

Alec heard Klonodor's frail words and brought the sword closer to him. Klonodor shrieked at Alec's denial of the sword. He dove forward trying to take Ainurbane from Alec.

Klonodor felt his lungs collapsed as if he was smashed by a troll's club. He looked down at his mid-section where Ainurbane had impaled him. He dropped to his knees. With tears in his eyes, Alec slid the sword out of Klonodor's body. Blood poured onto the stone beneath their feet. Klonodor was dizzy and his vision blurred. Alec embraced him.

"My...brother. I'm so...sorry," Alec said, choking on his own words. Alec wept.

He cradled Klonodor's empty body, pressing Klonodor's head onto his shoulder. Klonodor's breathing slowed and eventually stopped. Alec sobbed as he let go of the body. He came to his feet and looked down at his fallen friend.

His own body soaked with Klonodor's blood, Alec looked away and the night's moon turned a crimson red.