Chapter IX: The Land of the Sleeping River

            "Toron… Toron!" Latriel shook him violently, gripping Toron by the shoulders. "Wake up! You slept in.. again."

            Toron came back from his deep sleep. He stirred for a moment under the sleek white blankets, then forced himself to sit up and wince at the blinding sunlight pounding its way though the thin shades.

            "Toron! You're finally awake!"

            "Yes, I am." He sighed deeply. "Who could sleep through that?" He swiveled in the bed, setting his bare feet on the floor. He breathed deeply, taking in the sweet fragrance that was ever present. "What's happening today?" He asked Latriel.

            "I don't know – You had quite the evening last night."

            "I know. That was something else…" He stood and walked lazily to the other side of the room, bowing over a silver basin. Toron looked into the basin – the water was clear and clean. He dipped his hands into the basin and splashed the cool water onto his face. "Want to look through the libraries? Or just relax in the north garden?"

            "Let's just let it flow. I think the archives would be really interesting."

            Toron pulled of his shirt, and threw on his normal traveling outfit. It was trim and neatly cleaned. Another benefit of being an honored guest of Rivendale, I suppose.. He thought. "Come on, Latriel. Let's see what the day has in store."

            The two walked to the door, and turned into the main hallway. Latriel stopped. "Well," he sighed. "Our first decision of the day. Left or right?"

            Toron looked right – it was a long corridor with light streaming in, and plants growing around the outside of the walls as if there was nothing that could stop it from doing so. He looked left – it was slightly darker, and there was not so many plants growing. There were multiple doorways on either side, leading to different rooms containing different things. "Left."

            "Left it is then!" Latriel said cheerfully as the two turned and walked down the hallway. As they approached a stairway at the end of the long hallway, Latriel pointed at it and said, "That looks promising."

            "Let's go." Toron answered. They went down the winding stairwell, step by step into the darkness. It soon became quiet and uncoftorable. All that could be heard was the tapping of their feet on the stone stairs. The air suddenly became musty. The stairwell was lined with torches about every 15 steps, but the torches slowly started to get farther and farther apart.

            "Twenty five.." Latriel sighed. "Thirty… forty.. Now we only have a torch every forty steps! Toron, how long does this staircase go?"

            Toron suddenly grunted as he found the bottom of the staircase. "let me help you Toron.." Latriel said rather loudly. He fumbled around to find Toron in the darkness, but he helped him up.

            "Thank you." Toron looked around, but didn't see anything. He looked from side to side, and could barely see Latriel. "Latriel, go back up the stairs and grab me a torch, will you?"

            Latriel quickly scurried back up the stairs as Toron watched him. He looked around blankly, and a flicker of hope returned to his heart as he saw a faint red light descend the stairwell. Within a few moments, Latriel returned carrying a torch. His light was only seen by the reflection of the red flame. Toron grabbed the torch and turned around. A long dark hallway preceded him, with dark hallways going off from it.

            Toron slowly made his way down the corridor. Step by step the air grew thicker, which caused Latriel to cough at times. Toron looked down the hallways as the walked past, they were dark – immensely dark. He couldn't see the end of them because of the darkness. They made their way down the corridor slowly, and then Toron saw something at the end of the corridor. He saw red light reflected off of what looked like iron. He quickened his pace, and walked up to a large wooden door – rotted with age, and held together only by iron supports running horizontally along the wood. Toron grasped the round iron handle and pushed. A cloud of dust sprang forth from the door, and showered him.

            "Aw!" He yelled. He coughed loudly, and spat. "That is disgusting! This door must be ancient." He pushed again, with only a loud thump to get for it. "Latriel, come here. Help me push on this door."

            Latriel came over, and stood next to Toron. "On three?"

            "One,"

            "Two,"

            "Three!" They both yelled together. They smashed themselves against the door – dust flying everywhere. The stolid door would not move. Latriel became angry. He threw himself at the door again and again, but to no avail.

            "Curse this infernal door!" He then kicked with all of his strength at the base of the door. The wood flew away, and fell to the floor, leaving a gaping hole about 2 and a half feet tall in the door.

            "You first, or shall I?" Toron asked formally. Latriel didn't respond – he was dumbfounded. "I'll go first then." Toron scrambled through the small hole. Latriel soon followed.

            "Look, I don't know about.. Toron?" He stopped as he noticed Toron standing with his mouth agape. "What's wrong with you Toron? Toron?" He then looked forward, and before him stood towering stacks of ancient papers, scrolls, and books. To his left were large jars scattered about along the wall, and on his right, papers held up on the wall by some ancient skill.

            Toron advanced forward and started looking through a stack of papers. Latriel went to investigate the articles posted on the wall. "You know," Latriel sighed, "I don't think I'll ever understand why these old places always have to have archives."

            Toron was busy looking through papers. "Well Latriel, it was common for places of importance to keep records of.. well, everything." He then picked up a paper and began to read it intently. Latriel again began to babble, not aware of Toron's find. He was soon cut off by Toron's booming voice.

"Here lay the last words of Lord Elrond, Lord of Imladris.

The Ring of Power is destroyed,

But Evil still prevails.

Beware the power of the leaderless orcs,

For they will be leaderless no more.

Beware the power of the orcs –

In the land of the sleeping river."

            Latriel had frozen halfway through the first line. He turned to Toron. "The- Th- The sleeping river? What do you suppose that means?"

            Toron looked up from the paper, and looked at Latriel in a way he never had before. He was afraid. "The land of the sleeping river…" He whispered.

            "Yes, Toron," Latriel yelled. "What is the land of the sleeping River?"

            "The land of the sleeping river…" Toron whispered again. "Latriel – don't you see? The Land of the Sleeping River is –" He suddenly turned his head towards the door. "Get back."

            Latriel quickly moved to the other side of the room. "What is it?" He whispered.

            "Shh!" Toron whispered. The room was silent.

            Latriel stood squished next to a large jar. His breathing was erratic. He could feel his heart pounding within his chest. Then he heard it. Tap… Tap.. His breathing became heavier.

            Tap… Tap..Thump!.. Tap sccchhhh.. Tap scchhh..

            Someone was coming down the stairs.