Chapter Seventeen
Whether because some gift of superhuman strength was given to her, or because out of sheer determination, Callysta managed to lift Legolas and struggled out of the cave. When they came through the entrance, her will could drive her on no further, and her limbs surrendered, she stopped and put Legolas on the ground.
As she sat pondering what her next course of action would be, her eyes strayed to the clear sky above them and saw a dark speck flying closer to the mountains. As the flying shape drew nearer, Callysta saw that it was the same eagle that bore Legolas and her to the western slopes of the Grey Mountains.
"Callysta, you must make haste. No time must be wasted for the hour of Doom draws near."
Overcome at last by grief and the prospect of her cold journey ahead, she broke down and wept.
"I cannot go on. Whither shall I go? I simply cannot go any further, not without Legolas by my side." She moaned.
The eagle counseled her, "These companions are given to you to help you along the way. Some will journey far with you, some shorter. Legolas had played his part. Didn't you read it in his eyes? He had a vision before that evil would come to you if you enter the cave under the mountains. He had sworn to protect you and he did. He had taken your place and bore your hurts.
"Nay, do not weep. He is gravely hurt but his spirit tarries still in Middle Earth. I will now bear him back to his fair halls. Indeed, that was my command but you must go on, that is your task. If fate is kinder, you may see him again. The hope of Middle Earth hangs on a slender thread. Take his bow, it may be of service to you yet." The eagle added.
"But how do I summon the Dragons of the Valar?" Callysta asked.
"That wisdom was withheld from me." The eagle replied. Gently, he picked up Legolas and with a great swoop, he flew from the mountains. He called back to Callysta, "Farewell!"
Bearing Legolas' bow, Callysta made her way down the winding path to the valley. She knew not where or how to seek the Dragons and she wandered where her feet would take her. They took her to the river. Greedily, she drank from the cool stream and rested under a willow. Weariness took her and she soon fell asleep.
In her dreams, a tall lady with flowing golden tresses came to her. There was an aura of gold and green around the lady.
"Child, why do you tarry so?" The lady asked, as she stroke Callysta's hair.
"I don't know what I ought to do. I am lost." Callysta replied.
The lady thrust a seven-petaled flower into her hand and then, she said softly to Callysta, "The bud that blooms in the midst of adversity will bear the sweetest fruit. You are not lost. Open your eyes."
A vision of unsurpassing loveliness was shown to her. Slowly, Callysta woke from her sleep and she knew then what she must do. She walked ahead past the brown plains and the wooded fields. She walked as thought one in trance but her mind was as clear as crystals. She came at last to a clearing. In the middle of the clearing, seven trees stood in a circle. Winter was close at hand but the branches of the trees remained green and unmarred by frost. The flowers bloomed as though it was early spring.
Callysta stood in the middle of the ring of trees and retrieved the jewel from her pouch. She held the jewel aloft. Her face was grim and her eyes bright. She cried out aloud in an ancient tongue long forgotten. Her voice reverberated and echoed through the valley. It took her by surprise for it seems as though, someone else had stepped into her body and spoke through her mouth.
The skies rumbled in answer to her summon. The wind howled and the trees bowed low to its growing strength. The clouds swirled as though it was stirred by unseen hands. The ray from the jewel stabbed upwards and pierced the clouds. Rain came lashing down. The ground beneath her shook and trembled. Callysta fell to her knees but still she held the stone high.
"Come, heed my command! Come now!" She cried.
The weather raged around her but she was unwavered. Finally, she heard a great roar and the sounds of giant wings beating in the sky. The Dragons came at last.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The last host of the West gathered before the Gates of Angband. It was the last desperate stand of good against evil. The Gates were tall, black and oppressive-looking. King Eómer and King Elessar had slain The Watcher at the Door, the great fell werewolf but yet no answer came from behind the dark fortress. Rain came pouring down in sheets and torrents but the Men stood unmoved.
And at last, a great clang was heard and the Gates burst open. Out pour the Orcs, like ants out of the anthill. Behind them, dark shapes crept out. Terror was in their bloodshot eyes and their faces were white and ghastly. These creatures were the Dark Lord's Precious. There were his Undead Ones. The sight of them was so terrible to behold that some Men threw down their weapons and ran amok but both kings were undaunted. They drew their swords and together with their men, they attacked the dark army.
Victory looked bleak for the host of the West and all would have gone ill if the wind from the West had not bore them renewed hope. Out of the horizon, the Dragons hurtled across the crimson-red sky towards the Dark Tower. The Dragon of Manwë led the Dragon host for he was the largest and the swiftest. Upon his back, he bore Callysta, the Wielder of the Stone. Behind him was the Dragon of Ulmo and he had arisen from the deep sea of Rhûn when Callysta had summoned them. At his side was the Dragon of Aulë. His scales were made of gold and his underside was studded with precious gems of many hues. Behind them were the other four Dragons.
"The Dragons of the Valar have come!" The herald of Gondor cried and Men and Orcs alike looked towards the western sky with awe and wonder.
The arrival of the Dragons struck fear into the wily hearts of the Orcs and their strokes went often astray. The Dragons circled above the Undead Ones and swooped down on the vile creatures. From forth their nostrils, the Dragons spouted terrific flames. Some of the flames were fiery red; some were golden orange while others were bright yellow or clear blue. They smote down the foul creatures and burned them to ash. As their unhappy spirits flee from their bodies, they were caught by the Dragon of Mandos and they were to be brought to the Halls of Mandos, Houses of Dead to await their judgment.
"Come, my men! This is our hour!" King Elessar cried, "Ride forth once more into battle!"
Morgoth, who stood in the Tower of Angband, saw the destruction of his Precious. He was filled with rage and as he rose, he took on the shape of a black Dragon. When he breathe, he spouted the fires of Hell and when he spread his montrous wings, a great darkness fell upon the lands of Angband.
Undaunted, Callysta led the Dragons forward to answer the challenge but when the black Dragon beat his great wings, the force threw the Dragons back and a hail of sharp stone rained upon the Host of the Valars. One of the sharp stones cut the side of Callysta forehead and blood poured out in rivulets. Still, she would not give up. Gathering the last ounce of the strength left in her, she rallied the Dragons on. Long they fought and both sides were fearsome and terrible in their wraths. As the black Dragon rose to its height to smite down the Dragon of Manwë, Callysta recalled suddenly the bow of Legolas and the words of the eagle.
Quickly, she lifted the bow and fitted an arrow into it. As she took aim at the chest of the black Dragon, she said a little charm,
"Arrow of Mirkwood; be swift, be sure
Pierce the heart of this foul creature
Arrow of Mirkwood, stray not from the Mark
Fly now; let Light overcome the Dark"
From out of the shadows, an arrow leapt flaming, its tip was kindled by the breath of Manwë. Whether because it was the will of the Valar, or because of the sure hands of Callysta, the arrow pierced deep into the right side of the black Dragon. Black blood oozed out of the wound but ere he fell crashing down from the Tower, in his last act of malice, he lashed out his mighty tail and struck the Dragon of Manwë. The force was so great that Callysta lost her grip and slipped from her seat upon the Dragon. She found herself falling from the Dragon's back to the land below.
So this is the end, Callysta thought, How I wish I could see Legolas' face one last time! A single tear rolled down her cheek. She closed her eyes and her thoughts fled far away.