Chapter 25
"The Mithwinrell never lies." Elrond thought as he stepped quickly down the paths to where Dúal and the gathered soldiers were. When he got there all attention turned to him.
"I told them nothing except where we are to go and why, for I think it is your duty to tell more if u think it important," Dúal said.
Elrond nodded slowly and whispered to Dúal softly, "I will tell them. If the Mithwinrell does not permit me so, then I won't be able to and I'll just forget it when I do try." Then he turned to the five hundred gathered in the clearing.
"As you all know by now, Middle-Earth is in great danger. You all know the legend of the Mithwinrell, I presume. The book that gives solutions to any problems Middle-Earth may come across, but only comes at whatever time it thinks necessary; yes it does have a 'mind' of it's own.
"A while ago, the Mithwinrell came to me with one word. Until I found the meaning of the word did the book explain farther. While I was searching my Arwen and I were not permitted to speak to anyone this word. Now that all of the mystery is solved will I be able to tell you.
"The word that the Mithwinrell presented to me was the word Crone. I didn't know what it meant, for the only definition I could think of for the word was an old woman. I searched all the books in my study and all the records until I finally found it. The Old Crone is the cause of almost all forms of evil and evil times that happened onto Middle-Earth. She was last seen in the East, and then disappeared completely in the mountains in the East at least four thousand years before, lost to the minds of all the races except very few individuals. Now that I deciphered what the Mithwinrell was implying, the source of the demons have been found; for it could be none other than the Old Crone that can bring forth so many demons from their lairs and unite them in such a way.
"Then the Mithwinrell appeared to me a second time and revealed to me a legend long forgotten. Mentioned was the Konlors; protectors of all the Earth, and there are four in Middle-Earth. The leader of the four in Middle-Earth is Lekondor. He is the only one that has accepted a woman into the circle. Lekondor is his name to all of Middle-Earth, although his real name is known only by the Konlors with very few exceptions. The woman's known name is Olórien, as some here may know. The legend says, because Olórien hasn't been chosen when this prophecy was made, that one day a woman will be chosen to be one of the Konlors, and when the Old Crone once again returns to power she will be the one that destroys the Crone completely and forever. Olórien is Lortil," Elrond concluded the speech with a great sigh. The clearing was silent.
"Now we must leave to go to the Havens to protect the shipwrights and also the Shire, home to the joyful halflings. Now we depart," Elrond said. He and the soldiers left Rivendell, and there were few left to wave them good-bye.
Diamond and Frodo urged the horse on as fast as it could, resting it once in a while in case there was the need to flee. The rest of the night passed quickly and the dawn soon arrived. The rising of the sun caused new inspiration as Diamond and Frodo rode faster into Mordor, soon finding tracks of Starlight and Ethrin's passing. Surprisingly there were no demons around, which made them nervous. Still they moved on. Although the young horse couldn't match Starlight in speed and stamina, it was still swifter than any pony that they usually rode.
All of a sudden Frodo fainted and tumbled off the horse. Diamond stopped the horse quickly and dismounted, rushing to his side. Frodo was breathing hard, and his face was turning white. Diamond took out a necklace from under her shirt and whispered, Charm of the Havens, heal him quickly," while frantically motioning for the horse to stay. The charm lit up, covering Frodo in a white light that blinded Diamond for a second. Then Frodo was awake, staring up at her worried face.
Now the demons will know that we're here! Why couldn't you just get me on the horse or just leave me here?" Frodo asked, worry and fear filling his face.
"I couldn't leave you here even if it meant my own death, and you know that Frodo son of Drogo. I also do not possess the strength to lift you on the horse, though I should really have just tied you to the horse and dragged you behind, with the tone of your voice. Such ungratefulness," Diamond muttered before hauling him up and urging him on to the horse. Then she mounted and sped the young stallion on, watching the sun crawl up slowly; time had passed faster than she had anticipated.
"Legolas, are you alright?" Laphaela asked, looking intently at her brother's face.
"I have faced much, very much, yet why can't I forget?" Legolas pondered, frowning at the ground.
"You loved her, Legolas, and it was true love. Your heart will never forget, and your soul would never release the pain."
"I will go after her tonight! I will ride alone and hear the words directly from her mouth!" Legolas mounted his horse, and then rode off to Mordor alone before Laphaela could protest. He was gone before Laphaela could follow.
"Weren't the words already spoken clearly?" Laphaela thought, settling back down.
"My dear mistress of the Darkness, what have you called upon me for? What need do you have of me?" the maiden whispered, bowing.
"My apprentice, you have come just in time. You are usually early, so may I ask why the tardiness this time?" the bent figure asked, looking towards the great sphere.
"I was delayed, my respectable instructor, by some annoyances I know you will soon get rid of."
"Get rid of them yourself, I have not the time for such irritating characters."
"They may have more power than you think."
The figure looked up, eyes narrowed. This was the first time that the Dark Elf had ever looked upon her master, and the sight was frightful. The face seen within the cloak was white, but the eyes where large but devoid of color, and it seemed to absorb all light; no glare could be seen on those obsidian eyes. There was no nose except for one slit and the thin lips a frosty white. The mouth was open, and protruding from the mouth was a long, thin tongue that looked like a worm wriggling from the earth.
The cloaked woman looked at her chosen apprentice. The girl, the last Dark Elf, had the most queer hair color. Black on top, it slowly faded to a blood red and was long and straight. The eyes were yellow but rimmed in red. Tall but slim, she would have looked beautiful except for the mark on her forehead. It was a circle, just a black circle with flames surrounding it. The Good Races of old would have recognized the evil it spoke of, shadow and flame that devoured all hope and happiness. That symbol alone gained hatred from many.
"She will do," the old crone said, turning back to her sphere. "Even the legend of the Konlors can't come true. Ethrin will never stop both her and myself."