Legacy of a Nazgul or Digimon ride to Minas Tirith. Chapter 12 – Favor.

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Another chapter ready. I want to say thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing my story so far. GhostKing666, you are quite right about the whole blue card thing, I guess that was another error of mine, but it's too late to correct it now, I guess. I'll just make sure not to commit it again when I will write another story. Oh, and thanks about spotting errors! It is very important for me to know my mistakes.

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… Several moments later, both Rika and Renamon opened their eyes at the same time. What they saw amazed them quite a bit, and not in a bad way. They have found themselves on a flourishing meadow, under a beautiful cherry tree in blossom. The sun above them was shining brightly, and the air was warm, not stuffy or hot, just warm. Countless flowers of different types and colors were filling the air with pleasant scent, making the stay on this meadow of dreams even more enjoyable.

"Whoa! Where are we? Heaven?" Rika asked as she looked around. There was no one else here besides her digimon, who was still shrugging off the sleepiness. She looked at herself and noticed that she was wearing the same clothes she would wear if she was back at Shinjuku - a yellow-turtle necked T-shirt with an intact heart on the front, with short button-fly blue jeans, red wrist bands, red steel-toed sneakers, and buckles around her waist and leg.

"If we are dead, then – yes. The last thing I remember was the Witch-king getting behind us, after that – all blurry…" Renamon replied slowly, as if she was not sure if she was right.

"Dead… DEAD?! What do you mean DEAD? We lost that fight? Oh no…" Rika mumbled as she sat on the ground. A series of brief flashes went through her mind: Minas Tirith in flames, orcs marching in, pillaging and burning down everything they saw, and on the part of the wall – bodies. Many bodies … and among them … their own bodies – hers and Renamon's. Rika shook her head to make the vision go away.

"We … we have failed. All who were counting on us … are doomed." She said with bitterness.

"Rika… I only guessed that we died. I might be wrong and we actually might have been teleported somewhere else or something… Maybe we're not dead at all!" Renamon tried to cheer her tamer up. It had some effect.

"Do you … really think so?" Rika asked with trembling in her voice.

"Of course. Remember that we are talking about magic over here. At this point Shinjuku could drop out of the sky and I wouldn't bat an eyelash." Renamon tried to joke yet joking never was her thing.

"Uh, I guess you're right. Anyways, we should be trying to find a way out of this mess, despite how beautiful this place might be. Ugh… What's that?" Rika suddenly inquired as she turned her head to a certain direction. They didn't notice it before, being overwhelmed by past events and by the beauty of the place they were in.

In the center of that flourishing meadow there was … a graveyard. No flower or other plant grew on those scorched grounds. It looked like the Sun never shone above these lands, covered with old, crippled gravestones, which obviously went without proper care for a very long time. In the center of that unpleasant and depressing picture there was an old building, which looked much like a catholic chapel.

It didn't have a cross on its top, the windows were broken, and it looked abandoned. Its walls were covered by remains of what once was a grape-vine. That was the only reminder of life that once flickered in this place of death. The vast grave stood like a dark sentinel in this ocean of flowers, and was like an intervention, something that was out of place. Suddenly, Renamon and her tamer saw a weak light coming out of the broken window of the chapel. It blinked a couple of times before disappearing again.

"There was light in that building. My only guess is that someone is there. We'd better go and check it out, maybe this person knows where we are." Renamon proposed.

"Why do we have to go there? What if we go there and some zombies, or skeletons, or ghosts, or anything else will jump at us? Let's stay here where it's safe." Rika replied somewhat hesitantly. Renamon raised an eyebrow when she heard that.

"I didn't know you were a fan of cheap old horror movies… Don't be silly, there are no such things as walking skeletons and zombies!" Renamon replied kindly, while trying to hold a chuckle. She found it a bit funny that her tamer became scared of such a trivial thread.

"Remembered that we're talking about magic over here…" Rika used her digimon's own words against her.

"Alright, how about I will go and check it out, and you will stay here where it's safe?" Renamon said and went towards the graveyard they saw. Almost as soon as she did this, she heard fast steps gaining on her. Rika. She should have known.

"Changed your mind?" Renamon inquired with a bit of irony.

"Yeah, I though that it would be bad if you'll get in trouble and I wouldn't be around to bail you out. And besides, if there are some undead out there, I'm sure we will find a way to beat them." Rika replied.

"Yes. After all, we are partners." Renamon said and smiled as they went closer to the dark place…

…They walked for a couple of hours until they finally managed to reach the outer gates of the resting place of so many people, which now, obviously, laid forgotten. The road that seemed short at first suddenly stretched out to be rather long. The air, which was so pleasant and refreshing, suddenly became so stuffy that it was not possible to breathe normally. The sun which was emanating such a warm light suddenly became as hot as in a desert. The flowers' bloom ended up in a cloud of pollen, which made breathing even more difficult and made both Rika and Renamon cough all the way to the place.

When they finally reached the abandoned graveyard, a strong wind strike opened the rusty gates before them. Slowly, they have opened with a nasty creek, which made both of our heroes shiver.

"Almost like if someone is expecting us…" Renamon commented.

"Yes… C'mon, let's go." Rika replied and lead the way. The chapel was situated on a hill of some sort, and a narrow trail that moved here and there among the gravestones was the only path to it. Here they have encountered the same thing they went through on their way here: a walk that should have taken only five minutes got stretched for a half of an hour.

The place was not looking hospitable. Everything looked so very grey, hopeless and devoid of life. The other thing Rika and her digimon noticed there were … crows. There were a lot of crows, on the stones, on the fences, everywhere. They looked at the newcomers with their shining little eyes, but didn't appear to be scared of them.

"I don't like how these birds are looking at us…" Rika muttered.

"I can destroy them, if you like." Renamon proposed.

"Leave it. There's better sport than this one." Rika replied shortly, cooling off Renamon's violent intentions. They walked further up the trail, which seemed endless. They started to notice that further they went, the more crows were appearing. Eventually, they found themselves surrounded by thousand of crows.

"Looks like we're surrounded… By birds." Rika said with a bit of laugh, but before Renamon said anything in reply, suddenly, all that horde of birds, with dreadful croaking, lifted into the air at once, and that scared and confused both our heroes pretty much.

"It's like something scared them away…" Renamon said as the birds finally flew away.

"Stupid crows." Rika replied as they moved further up the hill…

…The walk up-hill was much more difficult than they both have though it would. Still weary after a two-hour torture they came through just to make it to this place this climb was truly debilitating. At least there were no more crows on their way, but that was more than compensated by a strong wind that was blowing down the hill.

The wind was chilling to the bone and was freezing blood in the veins, though it was unknown why it was so cold. This wind was making Rika shiver, yet she tried not to show it. Not that her attempts escaped from Renamon's ever-vigilant eyes though.

"Are you cold?" she inquired mildly.

"No I'm not." Rika replied a bit harshly as they went on. But the next gust of wind managed to break her will not to shiver, as she started to shiver and her teeth wee clattering.

"You are cold. You shiver like a leaf." Renamon said with worry.

"S… so? It's not like you can offer me a blanket or a jacket or anything…" Rika replied, but stopped as Renamon approached her close enough to keep her warm. It did look like a hug, yet Rika never truly believed Renamon would allow herself to do such thing.

"Thanks, Rena. You are very warm." Rika replied rather cheerfully as they both went further.

"You're welcome." Renamon replied softly. "Humans are so fragile… Especially children…" such a thought came through her mind…

…Together they managed to struggle against the strong and chilling wind that was trying to stop them from advancing to the chapel. In the end, after quite a long way, they managed to get to the doors of the structure. These were massive old doors, with an iron knock on them. Rika used it to knock at the door three times. After she did it, the door opened by itself, with a creek. It was dark inside, but at the end of a long corridor there was a table, with a spark plug burning.

"Apparently, this was left by the one who was there earlier. I wonder if he, or she, is still here…" Renamon said thoughtfully as she picked up one of the torches from the floor and lighted it up with the fire of the spark plug.

"I hope so, otherwise our whole trip here would be proved useless…" Rika replied when suddenly, a powerful gust of wind closed the door behind them. The spark plug was extinguished, and the fire of the torch would have been gone too, if Renamon wouldn't have hid it from the wind with her back.

"We're trapped…" she said, when, suddenly a strange voice was heard:

"Welcome!" the voice echoed in the surroundings, and it was not possible to understand which direction it was coming from. The voice was loud, strong, and somewhat harsh. After that, heavy steps with metallic clanking were heard, and, from behind one of the columns, a stranger appeared. They never saw him before. He looked old, his face had wrinkles, as well as old scars, but despite all that his body was not weak and ill, like most old people had. The stranger was walking straight, and was very tall. His hair and beard were white, yet short. He wore a chain mail, a crown, and bore a sword.

"I was expecting you." The stranger added, with a bit milder intonation, yet his voice was still dry and strict.

"Hnh, if you were, why have you given us so many troubles on our way here? I assume that the crows, the wind, and time shifting is your doing." Renamon asked with a bit of irony.

"This is my way of doing things. But you managed to get here after all. Please, take a seat." The stranger replied, and, out of thin air, two chairs and a table appeared. Suddenly, all the torches on the walls that were extinguished for a long time suddenly were caught in flames again, lighting up the whole room.

"Thanks. My legs ache from that "delightful" walk we had here. So anyway, who are you?" Rika inquired as she sat on the chair proposed to her. Renamon, on the other hand, kept standing on her feet, and throw suspicious glares towards the stranger and the chair.

"You do not recognize me? Ha-ha, of course you don't, not with how I look. We have encountered several times before. Perhaps you would remember me looking … like this?" the stranger said and, by his whim, out if thin air an image, a mirage formed: Tall, in a dark cloak, wearing black armor, and a crown-like helmet with nothing but darkness under it… Armed with a two-handed sword…

"YOU!" Rika exclaimed as she stood up from her chair. Renamon, on the other hand, didn't say anything, she darted to the stranger and attempted to hit him with her fist … only to witness her fist going through his body like through mist, without encountering any resistance.

"Fortunately for me, you cannot touch me here, so your efforts on harming me here are useless, but, unlike you, I can." The stranger replied as he grabbed her fist which still was "in his stomach", and pulled it out with force. Seeing that this was not worth the effort, Renamon backed away, and sat on her chair.

"So, what for have you brought us here, and what is this place?" she asked calmly.

"This place… It could be called a reflection of my inner world, so to speak, just like the flourishing meadow outside this place represents yours. And I have brought you here, because I want to ask you … a favor." Er-Murazor said, to much surprise of whom he was speaking to.

"A favor? Why would we do a favor for an enemy?" Rika asked in amazement.

"Because doing so will fulfill both your goals and mine. I think you will find my proposition hard to resist. I want you … to end me, because if you don't, I will end you, this city, all of your friends, and the rest of free Middle-Earth." The Witch-king's voice sounded threatening, yet it was his request that shocked both Rika and her digimon.

"You want us … to kill you? B… but why would someone want to die?" she asked a bit unsure. That was because now she was not seeing a horrible dark menace who sought death of all living things before her. She saw … just an old man. The Witch-king looked at her with a bit of sadness and sighed:

"When you fight the Nazgul, never mistake us for a living thing, because this doubting will only weaken you. We are already dead, it is just a matter of how many we will slay before we actually fall."

"You didn't answer the question." Renamon said from her place in an unwavering intonation. That remark made Murazor sigh again.

"Very well, if you are so anxious to know. As you might know, we, the Nazgul, are considered most faithful servants of Sauron. Ever wondered why we always do his bidding without hesitation, or mercy?" he asked.

"Because he can control you." Renamon replied. She remembered her talk with Gandalf on this issue before.

"That is right…" Murazor replied, and by his whim the mirage of the Witch-king of Angmar disappeared, but instead a smaller one appeared at the table. It drew attention of our heroes.

"We are like strain puppets…" the witch-king said as from his hand strings appeared and connected with arms and legs of the little image of himself on the table.

"We move whenever our master wishes us to move, and we do whatever he wishes us to do. Against our sense, and against our will. But the time has come when a puppet decides to cut the strings, even if it will mean destruction…" with these words a pair of scissors appeared out of his hand, and he cut the strings. The mirage disappeared.

"Despite that I'm more than 1000 years old and that most of my "life" I spent as the Dark Lord's right hand, I still remember everything when I lived my life as a … human. I think Sauron let us keep those memories so that we would suffer more, remembering what we have lost for eternity, but it backfired, giving us the strength to resist, to defy him for so very long. I've had mine fair share of killing … men, women, children… I remember that I fought for the glory of mankind, for triumph of the light against the darkness. I don't want all that to fall by my hand… That is why I ask you … I beg you, please, do what I ask you to do." Murazor said heavily after finishing his revelation.

"But … why us? Of all people…" Rika asked.

"It is because of the prophesy…" the Witch-king replied.

"Far off yet lies his doom, and not by a hand of a man will he fall…" Renamon remember and said the prophesy.

"Yes, you are right. How did you know?" he asked in a bit of amazement.

"The white wizard told me. He also told me he is stronger than you." Renamon replied a bit slyly. This comment managed to bring a slight smile on Murazor's face.

"He didn't lie. His power can be equal to my master's. But he cannot use it, and keep his human form. Alike my master, Mithrandir, or Olorin, to be called correctly, is a maiar, a demi-god. But ever since they swore never to use their full powers in Middle-Earth, and cowardly retreated to Valinor, no one is strong enough to stand my master, and Gandalf cannot stand against me, because if my master will desire, he will channel his full power through me. And besides, Olorin knows the prophesy too."

"We can't do anything if we are trapped here though…" Renamon said a bit casually.

"Trapped? No, you are not trapped. This all is going inside your head, and what you see, is the reflection of souls, both mine and yours. This is how my soul looks like." Murazor replied, referring to his appearance.

"You are lying. We, digimon, don't have souls. We are not living things in a normal understanding of that word…" Renamon replied calmly. This resulted in a smirk from Murazor's part.

"I never ever met anyone who would say that she doesn't have a soul with such calmness. However, if you truly believe that, I must inform you that you are wrong. This magic technique that I used to get you here, it was designed at first to destroy one's soul, and leave nothing but an empty shell under my control." The Witch-king replied. This revelation was pretty much of a shock too.

"You… you can do that?" Rika asked, being frightened a bit.

"Yes… There are various techniques in dark wizardry, but most of them are used to damage mind or the body. But body can be protected by armor and mind – by strength of will or a magical amulet. But the most dangerous spells target neither body nor mind, they target the soul…" Murazor replied, and two images appeared near him… This time … images resembled both Rika and Renamon perfectly.

"A person can train a body or mind, but the soul – that is what a person cannot train…" when he said that, a glow appeared on both images at the place where heart should be. Both glows, Rika's and Renamon's, had a blue color. The Witch-king took that glow in his hands.

"Against such spells, even a strong warrior is as defenseless as a little child… Against such powers there is no defense…" Murazor said and crushed both lights in his hands, and with it two images fell to the ground, "dead", and disappeared.

"You're … you're horrible!" Rika managed to squeeze out of herself.

"Yes, and that is why I should leave this world forever. When I will release you from here and we will return to our battle, I will concentrate my will enough to overpower my master's, fortunately he is not controlling me to the extend of his powers, and I will make a mistake. That would be enough for you to send me into oblivion…" the Witch-king said a bit sadly, when suddenly, the ground beneath them started to shake. A very strong wind came out of nowhere and blew out all of the torches. Then, from everywhere, a horrible evil laughter was heard:

"Mvahahahahahaha!" This laughter was chilling to the bone, and both Rika and Renamon turned her heads to Murazor, but he looked just as surprised as they were.

"What is happening?" Rika tried to outshout the rumbling of the earth.

"I don't know… It couldn't have …" Murazor replied.

"OH YES IT COULD! MVAHAHAHAHA!" and with this laughter, in the center of the room, a flaming fireball appeared. It grew and grew, until it gained a form … of a flaming eye.

"Master…" the Witch-king sounded defeated.

"What a touching conversation, I never knew you had all this within you. Mvahahaha. I knew you always were a defiant one, but I never expected you to be facing death twice only to break free from my servitude… Was this your idea alone, or did the other eight take part in this as well?" the Flaming Eye said mockingly, and its deep voice was creating a horrible echo. Rika and Renamon were watching this, petrified. They understood everything. The Dark Lord, Sauron, was right before them.

"The others have nothing to do with it! The idea was mine alone!" The Witch-king screamed. It was obvious he was lying, and that he wanted to protect his brothers from severe punishment.

"We shall see if what you are saying is true, if not, their punishment will be far more severe than you could possibly imagine… Is this who is you false hope you cling to? Pathetic worms. Is it freedom you desire so much, you would dare to risk everything, knowing what would be the punishment for defying me? Well, willing obedience always beats forced obedience. I propose you a deal. Keep commanding my forces, destroy Minas Tirith, drown Middle Earth in blood of all who oppose me, and in the end I will grant you death you desire so much." Sauron proposed. His offer was very tempting, it was seen by the looks on Murazor's eyes, but in the end, the Witch-king replied:

"I once have made a mistake of trusting the king of deceit. I will not make the same mistake twice." This reply seemed to have angered the dark lord very much, as the fires of his flaming eye started to burn brighter.

"Then I shall break you… Once and for all… And I will start with … forcing you to kill your hopes with your very own hand…" the eye said and disappeared, and the earth-quake started to destroy the building.

"Quickly, through the portal! It will return you to our reality! Hurry, before the entire building collapses on you!" Murazor screamed as he opened a portal, and Rika and Renamon managed to get in it before the ceiling collapsed to the ground…

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Well, that's it. Next chapter will be ready soon. Hoped you liked this one. If you did, or if you spotted a flaw I didn't see, you can inform me of that through a review =)