Legacy of the Ring
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.
Chapter 24
Men, the third race born, took their turn. In the ground were those fallen among them buried with their belongings. Not a note was sung and expressions were of varying degrees of shock and sorrow. Next the hobbits laid their fallen two to rest. They felt that there could be no songs for such a sad occasion.
Phoenix stepped forward, her beautiful face streaked with tears. "Halo mey lisha." The sounds stopped as the lesser dragons lifted their heads. Those bound to the dead warriors had a hollow dead look in once vivid eyes. Eyes that had once shown emotion ranging from contentedness to rage. Now they were dead. "Dragon-bound that have fallen, do not fear. All will remember you for your courage. Your noble sacrifice has not been in vain. Here, your allies stand to say farewell as those bound to you take you between." Her song like voice was strained with grief.
As one, twenty lesser dragons took the bodies of their bound between.
Volcanic Strike placed his hand on his sister's shoulder and drew her along with him. They stood at their grandfather's pyre silently. The High Prince drew a flint knife and made a deep wound on his palm. Red blood welled from the cut, covering his entire palm quickly. This, he used to make a print upon his grandfather's chest. Phoenix took the knife from her brother then made a nearly identical wound upon her hand. It was not quite so deep; as she understood the ways of war better than her brother did.
She placed her hand upon the ice-cold shoulder. "Ura mey." Her whisper was barely heard, as it was meant for spirits. Her hand drifted down to his lower arm and made another print there. "Ura mi seral." Phoenix stepped back allowing Talitha to light the fire beneath what had once been alive. Lesser dragons took to the sky as they keened in sorrow. Death was hard on them; as they didn't really understand until they had seen this war. Ending of life was not something they liked and when one of their own had fallen, they fought like demons until the battle was over. Then, the same song came from them as they mourned fallen allies. Intricate patterns were woven in the darkening sky as they flew on.
Finally, they silenced enough for the last part of the ceremony to begin. A group of huntresses gathered together, whispering among themselves. Then, their voices lifted in song; one more ancient than any of their number knew.
"Va sho Buel, va sho Buel.
Weya kia se sonya tiara.
Vala ai shartals soh sala
weya kia se sonya tiara.
Vala sho shartal ne sho Buel,
se sho feylas ali velar."
Twice through it was sang by the enchanting voices of the huntresses.
They pyres in the clearing burned to ashes as twilight lengthened. Finally, Phoenix could take no more and vanished inside a tent. Her friends followed her, trying to comfort her as best they could. This she accepted as they were very close to her now. Such battles forge strong friendships; ones that would not be broken by the bonds of this world, not even death could sever the link of true friendship. That was why, even after more than five hundred years, the spirit of Gollum remembered Sacred Smoke. She had shown him kindness when others turned him away and accompanied him to a place where he would be safe until the ring perceived its time. Her composure returned just before her brother burst into the tent.
"Grandfather told me what he was planning to do." He sighed in irritation. "They won't agree with his choice. Not many have seen these horrors."
"Perhaps they would think differently when they learn that the same darkness that took our parents took our grandfather. All who are willing to fight must." Her sapphire blue eyes were snapping in anger; reflecting the light of the small flames adorning the candles within their shelter. Her entire stance conveyed her anger, from the rigidness of her legs to the rage-filled swish of her raven black tail.
Volcanic Strike took an involuntary step backwards. When his sister was angry, he had learned that it was best to stay out of arm's reach. He lifted his hands in entreaty. "Easy. I was going to tell them exactly what happened." His muscles grew tense as he anticipated the young huntress striking him.
Instead, she relaxed and turned away from her brother. "Do not let them tell you what to do. Gregolo trained you well. Now that you have seen war, put that experience to use."
The now High Chief vanished from the tent. How could his sister have such command of the emotions that had ruled her young life? Unknown to him, she had always had self-control. Now, it was stronger than ever as a result of the dark times around them. And her friendship with the Riharan had strengthened her resolve. She would not let anyone down if she could help it.
Startled sounds prompted them to exit their shelter. A person was slowly rising from a mud pit, coated from head to toe with the rancid smelling substance. His features were obscured by the clumps clinging to his face. Archers stood near, their bows drawn tight. "Zerale!" Phoenix cried, startling the archers into obedience.
She stepped forward, into the circle they had made. Underneath the putrid odor, a much cleaner scent came to her. One that she knew. An elf from Lothlorien. "Phew!" She held her nose and backed away. "What did you fall into, Aladar? It stinks!"
"I have no idea." He wrinkled his nose, causing some of the clumps to fall to the ground. Aladar lifted his mud encrusted hand to wipe more from his face. This showed who he was to those who could not tell identity by scent. "Excuse me." The archer walked off to clean up.
Volcanic Strike, who had seen the entire exchange, forcefully grabbed his sister's arm. "How did they understand you?" His tone had fallen to a growl. Teaching their native tongue to those that were Riharan was not something taken lightly.
Phoenix laughed merrily, much to his dismay. The princess pulled herself free, still laughing. She silenced herself and regarded him with curiosity. "Very few understood what I was saying. By my tone, they knew what I meant." Phoenix shrugged. "Besides, only those close to me and that have known me for three months have any inkling of how to speak our native tongue."
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.
Chapter 24
Men, the third race born, took their turn. In the ground were those fallen among them buried with their belongings. Not a note was sung and expressions were of varying degrees of shock and sorrow. Next the hobbits laid their fallen two to rest. They felt that there could be no songs for such a sad occasion.
Phoenix stepped forward, her beautiful face streaked with tears. "Halo mey lisha." The sounds stopped as the lesser dragons lifted their heads. Those bound to the dead warriors had a hollow dead look in once vivid eyes. Eyes that had once shown emotion ranging from contentedness to rage. Now they were dead. "Dragon-bound that have fallen, do not fear. All will remember you for your courage. Your noble sacrifice has not been in vain. Here, your allies stand to say farewell as those bound to you take you between." Her song like voice was strained with grief.
As one, twenty lesser dragons took the bodies of their bound between.
Volcanic Strike placed his hand on his sister's shoulder and drew her along with him. They stood at their grandfather's pyre silently. The High Prince drew a flint knife and made a deep wound on his palm. Red blood welled from the cut, covering his entire palm quickly. This, he used to make a print upon his grandfather's chest. Phoenix took the knife from her brother then made a nearly identical wound upon her hand. It was not quite so deep; as she understood the ways of war better than her brother did.
She placed her hand upon the ice-cold shoulder. "Ura mey." Her whisper was barely heard, as it was meant for spirits. Her hand drifted down to his lower arm and made another print there. "Ura mi seral." Phoenix stepped back allowing Talitha to light the fire beneath what had once been alive. Lesser dragons took to the sky as they keened in sorrow. Death was hard on them; as they didn't really understand until they had seen this war. Ending of life was not something they liked and when one of their own had fallen, they fought like demons until the battle was over. Then, the same song came from them as they mourned fallen allies. Intricate patterns were woven in the darkening sky as they flew on.
Finally, they silenced enough for the last part of the ceremony to begin. A group of huntresses gathered together, whispering among themselves. Then, their voices lifted in song; one more ancient than any of their number knew.
"Va sho Buel, va sho Buel.
Weya kia se sonya tiara.
Vala ai shartals soh sala
weya kia se sonya tiara.
Vala sho shartal ne sho Buel,
se sho feylas ali velar."
Twice through it was sang by the enchanting voices of the huntresses.
They pyres in the clearing burned to ashes as twilight lengthened. Finally, Phoenix could take no more and vanished inside a tent. Her friends followed her, trying to comfort her as best they could. This she accepted as they were very close to her now. Such battles forge strong friendships; ones that would not be broken by the bonds of this world, not even death could sever the link of true friendship. That was why, even after more than five hundred years, the spirit of Gollum remembered Sacred Smoke. She had shown him kindness when others turned him away and accompanied him to a place where he would be safe until the ring perceived its time. Her composure returned just before her brother burst into the tent.
"Grandfather told me what he was planning to do." He sighed in irritation. "They won't agree with his choice. Not many have seen these horrors."
"Perhaps they would think differently when they learn that the same darkness that took our parents took our grandfather. All who are willing to fight must." Her sapphire blue eyes were snapping in anger; reflecting the light of the small flames adorning the candles within their shelter. Her entire stance conveyed her anger, from the rigidness of her legs to the rage-filled swish of her raven black tail.
Volcanic Strike took an involuntary step backwards. When his sister was angry, he had learned that it was best to stay out of arm's reach. He lifted his hands in entreaty. "Easy. I was going to tell them exactly what happened." His muscles grew tense as he anticipated the young huntress striking him.
Instead, she relaxed and turned away from her brother. "Do not let them tell you what to do. Gregolo trained you well. Now that you have seen war, put that experience to use."
The now High Chief vanished from the tent. How could his sister have such command of the emotions that had ruled her young life? Unknown to him, she had always had self-control. Now, it was stronger than ever as a result of the dark times around them. And her friendship with the Riharan had strengthened her resolve. She would not let anyone down if she could help it.
Startled sounds prompted them to exit their shelter. A person was slowly rising from a mud pit, coated from head to toe with the rancid smelling substance. His features were obscured by the clumps clinging to his face. Archers stood near, their bows drawn tight. "Zerale!" Phoenix cried, startling the archers into obedience.
She stepped forward, into the circle they had made. Underneath the putrid odor, a much cleaner scent came to her. One that she knew. An elf from Lothlorien. "Phew!" She held her nose and backed away. "What did you fall into, Aladar? It stinks!"
"I have no idea." He wrinkled his nose, causing some of the clumps to fall to the ground. Aladar lifted his mud encrusted hand to wipe more from his face. This showed who he was to those who could not tell identity by scent. "Excuse me." The archer walked off to clean up.
Volcanic Strike, who had seen the entire exchange, forcefully grabbed his sister's arm. "How did they understand you?" His tone had fallen to a growl. Teaching their native tongue to those that were Riharan was not something taken lightly.
Phoenix laughed merrily, much to his dismay. The princess pulled herself free, still laughing. She silenced herself and regarded him with curiosity. "Very few understood what I was saying. By my tone, they knew what I meant." Phoenix shrugged. "Besides, only those close to me and that have known me for three months have any inkling of how to speak our native tongue."