Chapter Twenty: N'uma Kalina (No Light)
The flame in my hand twists around my flesh in the way that only it knows how to do. My anger feeds the flames and makes them burst and spark. Another flame is lit in my other hand, both equally sparking and gleaming. I bare my teeth, as if in a snarl, and once again feel my canines grow into points. My fangs have returned, but I am not afraid. I know that in this moment, I can contribute greatly to the battle which is about to commence. This can happen, even though I do not know the full extent of my power just yet. Just not yet.
…Now!
The heavy wooden doors, vainly barricaded with old boards and weapons, burst open in a thin shower of splintered wood fragments, and seeing their perfect opportunity, several dozen goblins charge into the tomb, screeching angrily, followed by an enormous cave troll. My eyes widen in horror, but my fire does not falter. In response, I let out a shout and release the raging fireball in my hand, which explodes into the crowd of my enemies. A few of the goblins die, but there are at least seventeen left. I decide to let down the fire and use my fangs for once, if I really can use them at all.
As Gimli buries his axe in a goblin helmet and Aragorn slashes at several goblins, I leap onto a nearby ledge and let out a screech as I pounce from the stone ridge onto the mass of ugly creatures. The movement, I realize, is frighteningly similar to a cat. My fangs dig into the stinky flesh and rip at it until I can taste the bone. A normal person would be terrified that I could do such a terrible thing, but I'm not scared. Strangely, the fact that I attack things like an animal does not seem odd to me. It's as if I've always done it.
With a furious kick, I bring down another goblin. Even after it is dead, I tear at it with… my fingertips? And the goblin's blood splatters out of its torn skin, splashing on my face and staining my clothes. I can almost feel my ears being laid back like a cat's ears and a cat tail fluffing up in anger. My furious yowls are heard throughout the mines, striking fear into every creature that hears it. Even my friends.
But I'm not afraid, especially not of myself. This power is wonderful, even beautiful, so fascinating and so perfectly uncontrollable. The Witch-King and the Ginger Twilight Voice were right. I am someone that has unlimited power, used so I can help Frodo in his quest. Everything inside and around me is either covered in its own blood or on fire, and it feels wonderful. I feel superior and incredibly powerful. The feeling is almost addicting as the creatures around me continue to die, their screeches distantly echoing in my ears in a way I've never heard before. One cry of pain almost seems different from the rest, and several drops of blood taste different than the goblin blood, but I barely pay any mind. In this moment, I know that I am a FireDancer. Whatever that may be, I am one of them, and I love this power. It's beautiful and ugly at the same time, creating me into a both sanctified and evil creature.
But it feels… normal to me.
It's as if I've always been a… monster like this.
I suddenly stop. The moment is over.
I realize that I've already used my fire without even knowing it, burning the shredded goblin corpses to a blackened crisp around me. Even some of the stones are burning. Looking up with wild eyes, I see that all the goblins have been defeated, most of them either bitten, clawed at, or burned by me. Even the cave-troll was killed, evidently by an arrow that Legolas shot into its head, taking its life instantly. Reeking goblin blood drips from my fingertips and my jaw, staining my fangs. Around me is a circle of the corpses, some of them still on fire. None were left alive, which proves that we are safe for the time being, but…
…But what happened? It's as if I went mad and lost control over my power. Staring down at my hands, I see that there are… there are claws where my fingernails should be. It's as if the ends of my nails grew into sharp tips and curled over ever so slightly. Claws.
I let out a panicked gasp and collapse to my knees, my whole body gone weak. The realization of my true identity finally sinks inside me, and it does not give me relief that I finally know; it's scaring me.
I'm a monster.
Oh, my god. I'm a goddamned monster.
Covering my face with my hands, a terrified sob escapes my mouth. I don't even care if more blood is smudged onto my face. The tears are already flowing now and beginning to wash the blood away from my skin, leaving me in a mess. I can already see my friends now, staring at me in fear, and backing away to leave me in my own darkness. Even if they do, I will understand.
"Oh, dear Valar…" Gandalf whispers. And I know he's looking at me.
I sob again. With my eyes still squeezed shut, someone draws my hands away from my face and begins to wipe away my tears. My fangs dig into my lips as I desperately try not to cry, but it is in vain. The knot in my throat can't come out. The hands that are holding mine let go of my bloody fingers and wrap around my shoulders, pulling me close. When I open my eyes I realize that it's Legolas. His hand is running over my hair, smoothing the wild chestnut locks down and soothing my panic. Another gasp comes from me and I accept his hold. His touch is sweet and gentle, almost like the touch of an angel, as he calms me down while staying silent.
When I look up at his face, a faint smile is playing on his perfect lips. I suddenly realize that a trickle of blood is falling from a deep scratch on the side of his face. The scratch mark looks familiar, and the blood smells familiar…
Oh god. I hurt him.
That was me.
In my moment of power and madness, I didn't even know that I hurt one of my friends. I was so lost in my own fire and my own powers that I could not see anything around me but the blood and the flames. And it was so beautiful while it lasted…
How could I have been so damn stupid?
"Oh, my god… Legolas, I am so sorry! I… I hurt you!" My words come out in gasps and whimpers, barely audible at all. My fingers reach up to touch the scratch, and when I do he winces ever so slightly. It must be infected or else it wouldn't have hurt him that much.
"It's all right," he says reassuringly. "It will heal soon."
And then he closes his eyes and leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my bloodstained cheek. It was as if to silently say that everything will be okay. And the words are so beautiful.
I look up at the other eight members of the Fellowship, and they're all looking at me. A few are horrified, a few are anxious, but the rest are sympathetic. I expect Pippin to be terrified of me, but to my surprise, he actually walks up to me, smiles, and gently rubs my shoulder as if to say that I'm still part of the Fellowship of the Ring. I'm still their friend, even after that wonderful moment of fire.
My tears are beginning to stain Legolas' shirt as I press my face into his shoulder and cry. I can't let anything like that happen ever again, not while we're still in so much danger as it is. I refuse to let that happen again. With all my will power, I will keep my friends safe.
Even if it kills me.
Boom. Boom.
The sound of the drums rings out again throughout the mines, making us all look up. Gandalf looks around ominously, as if searching for the source of the sound, and then he turns to us with a very dark look on his face. Something cold drips through me like melting ice.
"We must go to the Bridge of Khazad-dum."
Here we go. This was one of the best chapters to write, although the title took trouble to translate. I hope you like this chapter!
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