Chapter Twleve.
Corlia tried her best to ignore the shivers that ran down her back, the atmosphere was as thick as a lion's mane and the pathway she knew she had to take was overgrown. She swung out Tyarel, cutting down her pathway as she made her way through. She could feel the trees groan with life but she felt nervous, unsafe because she had heard the stories of the trees turning wild and uncontrollable. She wasn't too concern though, she was more concern about the gem she was to collect. She knew the pathway off by heart, she had taken the exact same route at the end of the Second Age a few months after the death of Gil-galad. She was the one that had hidden it, she never wanted to see it ever again. Once a worthless gem but now something that held power, a power she once had but never wanted so, with the help of Saruman, she locked the power into the gem. She had buried it so it could be forgotten, lost; exactly how she wanted her memories to be…
She loudly scowled as a tree tried to grab her legs with its branch and she tripped, landing in the stream nearby. She could feel her throat grow dry at the sight of water but she quickly stood, knowing that the water would only make her taller. She continued to walk; slashing thorns with her blade, stepping on rocks to avoid the bog and taking a wide birth away from trees to stop being attacked. The repetitive motions made her brain-dead to them, her mind wandering onto other things. She could feel the Ring of Life thump with life, her whole body warm as if she was dressed in lots of clothing. She knew that the ring gave her protection but it was still weak, it needed its gem.
Days passed and she tried her best not to stop for too long, fearing that the trees or any brave creatures would claim her life. She knew she was getting closer, her strides were getting shorter and more reluctant to go forward but her mind forced her to keep going, to not flee away like a coward.
'Coward' she thought to herself, glaring into space. She thought at how she used to love her power; it was a gift, a thing of beauty, but after getting rid of the ring she found things a lot more different.
She wasn't the outcast any longer and she wasn't judged when one looked at her. She wasn't feared; instead people learnt to love her but she found no comfort. Immortality was something Men dreamed of and even Elves loved but, for her, it was endless pain of watching her friends die, her lover die… She had to suffer endless pain, sometimes she wished it would all end but death was not her pathway, her destiny. She was built for war, that was how she acquired such a ring, and that was her destiny but she didn't want that, she wanted to be free, to be a woman. She had told herself that after the Last Alliance of Elves and Men that she would retire from war, spend eternity with Gil-galad, but when he fell all she wanted to do was join him but she couldn't, she was no Elf… She had rid her ring, her power and immortality, as an act of freedom but also as an act of pain…
She held in her breath, her location found. The setting was one of beauty, the only place the trees didn't block the sunlight. The sunlight shone in a circle, the area bright and beautiful with wild flowers and herbs growing. A lone bolder stood alone, the colour somewhat changed. It wasn't changed by the Ents and it wasn't changed by the weather; it had changed by what lingered beneath it. The bolder was midnight black, parts of it gleaming as if threatening people away…Tyarel gleamed back at the bolder, as if challenging it, and Corlia raised her eyebrow between the two. As if magically her sword made her numbly walk closer to the bolder, the sword being raised into the air before forcefully smashing down on it, a loud crash being heard as the bolder split into half.
A black velvet box sat where the bolder had been split, the colour unspoilt from the surrounding mud and grass. Numbly she fingered the box, picking it up. Her hands were shaking, a fear she had forgotten about returning as reality sunk into her mind. She held an item of power, something that would want her unwanted, an outcast and something she didn't want to be – a monster. At the thought a picture of the fellowship settled in her mind; would they openly despise her? Or would they have the heart to accept her? She shook her head; if she couldn't accept it herself then why would others? She slowly opened the box, part of her heart pleading that the gem had broken, rotten or at least gone but it hadn't, it proudly stood out against the black silk, pleading to be taken. Corlia couldn't find the heart to take it though.
The thought of Legolas entered her mind; would he accept her if she took this ring? Could she hide such a thing away from the remaining fellowship? She continued to thoughtfully look down at the gem, the blue colour brightening making her flinch. She knew she still had a choice, she could still deny this and leave Middle Earth to fall but Gandalf knew her reason for being here… If she didn't claim it and carried on fighting beside them until her death would Gandalf forgive her? Would the fellowship forgive her if they ever found out? She scrunched her eyebrows together – they would hate her more for doing that then for being a monster. She loudly growled before grabbing the gem out of the box, adding it to her ring. A loud scream erupted out of her throat.
Burning.
Pain.
Memories.
She fell to her knees, forgetting about her trusted sword as she clutched her body, beginning to roll around in the mud as the power attacked her. Her body tried defending her, fighting against it, but the power was too strong. She could its 'poison' running through her veins, the pain unbearable as it gripped her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her body violently shook and the trees cringed back at the sight, their branches flinging around themselves in a protective manner as a feeling of darkness began to enter the atmosphere – the darkness wasn't something of evil, it was one of difference, abnormality… The moment seemed endless as thousands of knives seemed to be stabbing into her, the pain too near to be ignored. Her body knew it was losing the fight so, as her heart continued to wildly beat, her body relaxed down – all energy drained out of her as the 'poison' entwined itself in the blood, the pain soon going away as it soothed the body down in acceptance.
Corlia felt a tear escape her eye but she shook, clenching her hands together. She could feel her power there, she was no longer the simple little Tyrlylth, she was now the War Hero…
