Sorry this chapter took so long, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Chapter 21: The Awakening

I woke to the steady pound of cold water on my forehead; small, frigid droplets fell like sharp icicles hammering into my skull, over and over, never ceasing. When I finally attempted to wipe the water from my face, I found that I was unable to move my hand high enough to reach it; in fact, I could barely make it half way. Confused, I lifted my other hand and met the same restraint, and my legs were also being held down. With a quiet groan of frustration, I forced my eyelids fully open, making the chilling water drip into my eyes and blur my vision, but still I was able to see them, the rusty iron chains that held me, binding my wrists and my ankles to a slab of cold stone.

I was alone in a dark room, surrounded by hundreds of lit candles that burned bright like the sun and yet provided no warmth, not even a breath of it. The brilliant flames flickered atop their wicks like serpent tongues, hissing and spitting venomous black smoke that rose to join a moonless night sky. It was as beautiful as it was horrifying. The very same could have been said about the mysterious woman who later appeared amongst the flames, a women I now knew to fear. I could still remember how Turin fell and became lost in the shadows.

"Middle-earth has fallen into darkness," she said as she stepped through the ring of candles. The red-orange flames licked across her glossy face, but she remained unhurt and her robes unscathed. "A thousand cries go unheard by those above as the innocent beg for an end to the suffering, an end to the darkness, but she has heard their cries, Valmoria, the Queen of Queens and Bringer of Light. She will bring an end to it all and guide Middle-earth into a new and glorious age."

"An age of darkness," I spat, struggling against my chains. "An age of death!"

"One needs the darkness to appreciate the light," the woman replied, "for light can only be seen in darkness; and only when surrounded by death can one truly understand the glory of life. Middle-earth has forgotten all this, but it will remember soon."

"So get on with it!" I shouted. "Why am I here? You have everything you need, so get on with it!"

The woman came close and placed her frozen hand upon my forehead. "Yes, my dear child, we have acquired her ancient possessions."

She made a gentle beckoning motion with just the tips of her long, white, slender fingers. At her call, the two other women silently came forward, their faces masked by heavy black cloaks. The taller one carried a single candle, its flame small and steady, and the other carried a gilded book adorned with brilliant red rubies just like the one in the amulet around my neck. They stood at my feet, and although I could not see their eyes, I knew they were watching me, waiting.

"Behold the sacred text," the woman said. "Written with her own blood, it is filled with all her love, sadness, and hatred for this world and its creators. Before her slumber, Valmoria locked the text away so that we could find it and summon her when Middle-earth was ready. That time is now."

She smiled and delicately swept her fingertips across my forehead, as if to bring me comfort. "And now we have everything we need: the text, the amulet, ... and the vessel."

I could feel her stealing my breath with every word. "The vessel?" I repeated, my voice cracking.

"We can summon her spirit," the woman said as she stepped away, "but she still requires a body, and Valmoria has chosen you specifically. It is a great honor, Anariel. Your sacrifice will deliver Middle-earth into the new age."

My sacrifice will end it all ... There was such irony in that. For so long, I spoke of nothing but wanting to save Middle-earth, and now my body was to become an instrument of its destruction. I knew little about divine will, but this all seemed fated somehow, like I was meant to find the amulet and become its keeper in order to come here, to this cursed place, ... but not to destroy it.

My head was spinning with troubling thoughts. Valmoria had shown me such horrible visions—there was so much suffering and death—and I knew they were not false, in my heart I knew it. Was this the only way to save Middle-earth from itself? Thinking of all the innocent suffering, and knowing it would only get worse, I couldn't help but wonder if Middle-earth was truly beyond saving.

I have the power to end it all right now, I thought. It would be so easy.

The voice in my head was soon joined by another in my ear, but it was not my own. Forming a triangle around me, the three women had opened the book and begun reciting the text aloud, their voices in perfect unison, speaking together in an ancient tongue that I had never heard before. At first, it sounded like a sweet, melodic prayer, soothing to my ears, but then it started to change, becoming something dark and unsettling to hear, growing faster and faster with each passing phrase. Their voices had some sort of strange power, I sensed, for the fire became wild at the turn of their rampant words. The woman to the left of me held a candle, and its tiny flame was twisting and bending to her every word, like a snake being charmed by her voice. As it danced to her song, the flames around me began to grow higher and higher, forming a great wall of fire that seemed without end.

I saw the dragon. Red as the flame, he soared effortlessly within the fire and began circling around me. I knew he was hunting me, waiting for the perfect time to strike, and when he roared, I could feel his hot breath on my face. I saw his giant claw coming down at me, a brilliant steal dagger with a golden hilt. The woman had drawn it from her cloak, but she may as well have pulled it right from the fire. I could feel the heat and steam coming off it, burning my skin.

"With this dagger," the woman said, clutching the blade tightly, "may she rise again!"

I jerked my head up and screamed, "No!" at the top of my lungs, but the fire swallowed the sound; and the dagger began to plummet towards my chest; and the dragon began to swoop down, claws extended, teeth bared, but the growl that followed came not from him but from a dark shadow beast. It barreled through the doors, running on all fours but standing as tall as a man, a giant warg, black as night with eyes like fire, and choking its neck was a silver collar with a long, heavy chain that rapped against the stone as the beast ran. It leapt right over the wall of fire and pounced onto the woman at my feet. When she fell, the book flew out of her hands, and she crashed into the candles. One by one, they all fell, and the flames washed over the floor like a tidal wave, igniting everything within reach. The glass-faced woman didn't scream when her cloak caught fire; she didn't even seem to notice it. Instead, she stared in fascination at the young boy who now stood in the doorway, clutching a battle axe in his only arm. He was huffing and puffing with fatigue, but he stood strong.

"You are a very special boy, indeed," said the woman before finally succumbing to the flames that had climbed up her arm. Retracting her blade, she backed away, screaming in agony, and became consumed by flames.

Turin ran through the fire and swung his axe at one of the burning women, taking her head right off her shoulders. Then, coming to me, he hacked at the iron chains over and over until my arms and legs were free, and then we ran out of the room together. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw the warg stalking through the flames, and then I saw the glass-faced woman staring right at me as her body turned black and burned away. Taking the dagger in her hands, she whispered a phrase I couldn't hear and then plunged the golden dagger into her own chest.

With the last of his strength, Turin pulled the door closed and barred it with the axe before slumping against the wall. His body was covered with blood, old and new, and there were scratches across his chest from his battle with the warg, but he was alive.

I knelt beside him and gently pulled him close, placing a kiss upon his forehead. "I thought you had given up."

"I said I would always rescue you, Ana," he replied, "and I will, always."

I reached for Indilwen's vial, but Turin refused it. "It's not over yet," he said to me, and he fingered the amulet hanging from my neck, stroking the ruby with his cracked and bloody fingers. "It's time to finally rid yourself of this."

"But I don't know how," I said. "I don't know what to do."

"If Frodo could do it, then so can you." He gave a weak laugh. "Well, he didn't really succeed, did he? Like many before him, he ultimately succumbed to the power of the One Ring ... depending on which version you believe, of course. But you can do it, I know you can."

"What about you?" I asked.

He smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere."

And so I left Turin, as he requested, and started descending the long, winding staircase that led from the high tower down to the great hall. It was an old, narrow staircase, with several of the stone steps worn away and broken. I found myself stopping many times, wondering if Turin was truly all right ... and if I would be able find the Black River and destroy the amulet, but Turin's words of confidence compelled me to move on every time; and at the bottom, I found a most unexpected visitor waiting for me. Half-wing, the mischievous little creature who had plagued my travels from the beginning, appeared to me once more. I never understood why he came to me so often, as our encounters were always so peculiar, but now it was all perfectly clear to me; and when he ran away, I knew I was supposed to follow him.

He knows where to find the Black River, I realized. He's always known!

I followed him through a dark passageway that came to its end at a high, jagged cliff just beneath the main keep and above a massive waterfall that gushed a river of silver-blue water into the pool far below, but the water was no longer clear and perfect; now it was polluted with black blood and dead orcs floated along its surface, but the victors were nowhere to be seen.

Legolas, I hoped, and Elladan and Elrohir. Let them be alive!

Further up still we climbed, traveling a narrow path that needled deep into the mountain and followed an endless stream of silver-blue water. It brought us to another beautiful waterfall but went no further. Half-wing hopped over the stream and stood on top of the rocks before the fall, letting the gentle mist shower over him, but he went no further. Five times he tapped his foot against the stone, always at the same spot, and the final time he looked right at me, so I stepped over the stream and joined him on the rocks. With his tiny black finger, Half-wing traced a large ring around himself, one that illuminated to his touch, and at the ring's center, the ground sank to reveal a strange diamond shape in the rock. Half-wing stepped away from the ring. He looked at me, and I looked at him. I knew what to do. The chain came off without a word, and I placed the amulet into the opening, and the fall opened its gates to me, drawing its waters away like a fine curtain and closing them again once I had passed through.

There's no going back now, I thought as I walked through the cave with Half-wing at my side. We needed no light to guide us, for the entire cavern was set aglow by a soft blue light, the light that came from the river's eerie black waters. I had seen these waters in a dream, but the real thing held no comparison. I stood upon the high cliffs and watched the waves crash against the rocks. Fingers of the condemned seized the edge only to be swept away by the current, their trapped souls forced to swim forever in a sea of torment.

"You'll swim, too ..." Turin had said in a dream, and I believed him still. Even as I clutched the amulet in my hand, I could see my own face among those swimming. I held out my hand, letting the amulet dangle over the edge. "It's over now." My fingers began to twitch, and the chain slipped from my fingers, falling into the empty air ...

... and landing right into a waiting hand that had been charred black and carried the foul smell of sizzling flesh.

Slowly, fearfully, Half-wing started retreating back into the shadows. Gasping, I stumbled back and stared in horror at the burned woman who now stood before me. I had seen the fire take her and believed her to be dead—the blade was still buried in her chest, for goodness sake!—but still she lived, and as she held that amulet in her hand, she let out a joyous cry.

"She has chosen me!" she murmured over and over while draping the amulet around her neck. "I can feel her inside me, filling me with her power! Yes, My Queen, I am yours to command!" As she spoke, her white eyes began to turn black, like a sickness was taking over her, and when all the white was gone, her euphoric smile was replaced with a look of innocent curiosity, like a child seeing the world for the very first time.

Valmoria had risen once more.

"The world has changed since I last saw it," she said as she gazed about the cave. "It is cold ... and dark ... and I can feel a great sickness in the air; I can feel it blackening my lungs and filling my heart with such sorrow." At this, she stared down at her chest, from which the dagger still protruded, and she grasped the hilt and drew out the blade with one smooth motion, and no blood came from the wound; it healed by itself.

She looked at me. "Have you seen what is to be?" she asked softly. "Come, I will show you."

I fell to my knees as a wave of horrid thoughts rushed through my head. I saw ships burning and dead men floating in the water. I saw dead hobbits being carried one after another and piled into a wagon like they were spoiled produce. In a bedroom, I saw my hands soaked with red, carrying a blood-stained bed sheet. On the battlefield, I saw Legolas kneeling in defeat and Turin standing over him, pointing a sword at his neck. A pair of red dragon wings sprouted from his back, and everything turned to ash.

A tear slipped down my cheek when it was all over, and I did not have the strength to rise again.

"How I weep for the future, for the innocent who will suffer. This world shall be forever marred and corrupted as long as men continue to rule. They could have all the riches in the world and still it would never be enough to satisfy their greed. Thousands of wars they will fight, and they will keep on fighting until the world is lost and everyone is dead. Middle-earth cannot be saved. It does not deserved to be saved."

I shook my head. "You're wrong," I said, finally able to stand. "I have seen horrible things, things that will haunt me until I am dead and in the ground, but I have also seen good things, beautiful things that will stay in my heart even after I am dead. This world of men may be fading, but it is not lost, not yet."

But all my confidence disappeared when she vanished right before my eyes and reappeared behind me just seconds later. Her blackened hand gripped my throat and lifted me into the air.

"Is that what you think?" she questioned, tightening her grip. I could see the burnt flesh flaking off her face as she spoke. "My dear child, you do not know what horror is, not yet. You do not know, for you have not seen all that I have seen. This world is poison—!"

Suddenly, Half-wing sprung out from the shadows and flung himself onto her face, clawing and biting without restraint. Shrieking, Valmoria released me and seized her tiny attacker with one hand, whipping him against the rocks like he was nothing more than an annoying pest, but the damage had already been done; I had ripped the amulet off her neck while she was vulnerable and now held it over the edge of the cliff.

"This world may fall," I declared, "but not by your will!" and I cast the amulet into the river with all my strength.

I don't know what I thought was going to happen after that; many thoughts crossed my mind, I suppose: that she would burst into flames or turn to ash, that she would melt away or shatter into a million pieces, or maybe she would simply fade away into nothing. I thought it would all end if I could just destroy the amulet, but it didn't; and when I looked back, she was still there, no weaker than before, and much, much angrier.

She came at me quickly, and I felt the blow of her hand before I even saw it. If I had less sense, I would have thought it was the air that had struck me so hard and blown me off the cliff. When I hit the rocks below, I feared that the spirits were going to grab me and try to pull me into the river with them. I could see the water and feel the mist on my face; and I could see their reaching hands and hear their aching moans. It was terrifying, and I just wanted them to stop, but before I could move away, Valmoria was at my back. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she pulled my head up and forced me to look high above me, but I could not see what she could.

"Do you see your children now?" she shouted at some unseen being, and then she brought her lips to my ear and said, "He could stop this, you know. He could save you all, but He will not, and do you know why?" She put the dagger to my left cheek and pushed the blade through the skin, cutting so deep that I could taste the steel on my tongue. I screamed louder than I had ever screamed when she began to rip and tear across my face, slicing from my ear to my mouth. Finally, she withdrew the blade and pulled my head back so that she could screech into my ear, "Because He does not care about you!" and then she threw me into a wall of stone.

My face was resting in a warm puddle, and when I lifted my head, blood came pouring from my cheek, making the puddle larger. I pressed my hand tightly to my cheek, trying to stop the bleeding, and then I saw Indilwen's vial lying within arm's reach. Quickly, I grabbed the vial and poured the remaining water into my mouth, but I could not bring myself to swallow. It began trickling to the floor; from my mouth or my wound, I couldn't be sure.

"The river does not discriminate," Valmoria said as she grabbed my arm and started dragging me back towards the edge, the place I most feared to be. "Elves and men alike swim down here." She shoved my face close to the river, and a misty hand reached for me. "As will you." Pushing me onto my back, she hovered over me and said, "What, have you no more noble thoughts to share? Or did I accidentally nick your tongue while I was cutting up your pretty little face?"

I had many words for her, but my mouth was too full to speak, and so I did the only thing that came to mind: I spat all the water at her face. It was only meant to anger her, but it did much more than that. She started wailing, and the burnt flesh on her face started to sizzle and slough off like dead bark from a tree. The dagger slipped from her shaking fingers, and so I took it from the ground and drove it into her chest once more. Her wide black eyes went right to me, and she swore, "You are dooming this world to a worse fate!"

Clutching her face with her fingers, she began scratching madly at the searing flesh, pulling clumps of it away one after another, and then she fell, screaming, into her river of trapped souls. They caught her, hundreds of waiting hands, and pulled her down with them. I watched her disappear beneath the surface.

"He created this world," I was finally able to say, "but we must do our part to care for it. We have to save ourselves."

All of a sudden, a blinding white light exploded from the river, forcing me to back away and shield my eyes. When the intensity lessened, I saw the river coming alive and the spirits of thousands rising higher and higher, finally free from their watery prison. Elves and men, young and old, all were soaring; all were now free. One particular spirit, I noticed, was looking right at me, a young elven girl, no older than eight to my eyes, and she held a mischievous grin on her face. Somehow, I felt like I knew her.

"Half-wing," I finally realized, my lips breaking into a small smile, "you're a girl!"

With her tiny hand, she gave a gentle wave, and then she slowly faded away with the rest of the spirits.

I let out a sigh, the deepest, most tired sigh of my life, and dipped my fingers into the cool water, which had now returned to its natural silver-blue color. It's finally over, I thought, and then I looked up, seeing the long climb that awaited me, and sighed again. This could take a while.

Slowly, I began my climb to the top, and when I reached the last shelf of rock, I poked my head up and found Legolas waiting for me on the cliff's edge, but he seemed more surprised to see me than I was to see him. Had he come to rescue me? If so, he had missed the battle.

"You're late," I teased.

He seemed a bit taken aback by my joke, for his eyes widened with surprise, but then they softened and he smiled. "You had a head start," he replied before offering me his hand, and after pulling me to the top, he caught me by surprise when he suddenly pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a tight embrace.

"I knew you could do it," he said just low enough for me to hear.

"That's good," I said, smiling, "because I certainly didn't." And I feared I would never see you again, I thought as I let my fingers brush against his jerkin. I had always hated his clothing, for it seemed so plain to me, but now I loved the feel of it on my fingers; and the deep scent of the forest that lingered in the fabric, I loved that smell more than anything.

We left the cave together, and he kept his hand pressed tightly to my wounded cheek. In turn, I covered his hand with mine, partially because I wanted to apply more pressure, but also because I wanted to savor his touch. I just couldn't bring myself to pull away.

When we finally made it outside, I felt something on my face that I hadn't felt in such a long time: the sun, warm and soft, sweeter than any kiss. The darkness was gone at last, and we were standing below a clear blue sky, the bluest I had ever seen. But as beautiful as it all was, this scene was far from perfect. I saw Turin lying on the ground, barely alive but desperately fighting. Elladan was doing all he could to help him, but I knew it would not be enough.

"He won't survive the journey home," I said, knowing the road back would be too long for him, and he needed immediate help.

"He will not have to," Legolas assured me. "Look!"

High in the sky, three great eagles were soaring through the air, gliding effortlessly, beautiful and majestic. Such things shouldn't exist, I thought. Such things live only in stories. But they were real, right there in front of my eyes, a sight I would surely never forget. And at that moment, I knew that He, whoever He was, did love us, and He had been watching over us the entire time, so we were never truly alone.

And if He hasn't given up on us, I thought, then I won't either.

Well, guys, there's only one chapter left to wrap everything up! Again, thanks for sticking with this story and being so patient with me. I really do appreciate it.

Please, review!