The 6th Istari
Chapter 10: The Battle and The Effects
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it asap.
Thoughts are in Italics. Thoughts spoken to each other are "in italics". If they are speaking in elvish, *elvish*, if dwarvish, dwarvish, if they are speaking normally, "It will be normal."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They all stood they for a while, staring at each other. Suddenly everything broke loose. The three stood there but everyone else rushed at them. Suddenly, Mith found himself in the middle of a battle, dodging weapons and hitting people with shoots of light from his hands. He ducked, dodged, rolled, kicked, and hit. It seemed as if the press of creatures around him would never end, not matter how many her knocked out, there were always more. Mith sensed that the press was slighter to his right, he yelled sent the other two his thoughts, they agreed; and they all started to hack their ways through the press.
Curunir had kept Twe in his sight the whole time, suddenly a cave troll came between Twe and him, he hacked at it till it fell, and he clambered over it's huge hulk. Suddenly he felt dread clutching at his stomach, where was Twe? He didn't see here anywhere! Suddenly he saw her flaming garment fro a flash of a second, but I t was enough, he jumped down and ran to where she had fallen. She was struggling to get out form under an orc that lay on top of her.
He ran over and yanked on the orc, bit by bit it moved. Finally Twe lay there on the ground, her flame colored garment was blotted out in some places by the orc blood, but she didn't look like she was bleeding. Cur dumped the orc to the side and turned back to Twe, she tried to get up, but suddenly she clutched her stomach and groaned, "I think I've broken some ribs." She told him. He immediately bent down and grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up. Mith could only hold off the creatures for so long, they needed to get up and in the clear.
Holding Twe up with one arm and holding others off with another, Cur walked towards Mith, suddenly he stumbled over an orc, and they both went down, Twe crying out from the pain, "She must have broken a lot of her ribs." Mith told Cur in his mind. Unexpectedly, Mith was there, he swooped up Twe and blasted his way through the crowd, Cur managed to get up and stumble after him, knocking several creatures out on his way. Cur felt his side; he felt liquid and fire there. There was blood running down his side, some one must have swiped him with a spear. He clutched his side and continued on.
He wasn't sure whether he was out of the crowd or the crowd had been killed off, he had killed so many creatures he felt like he had been doing this forever. He looked around and saw that only Mith, Twe, and himself, plus that blackness were left, everyone else was down.
Then Mith set Twe on her feet, and gently backed up, leaving her standing there. Cur shook the fuzziness form his eyes and staggered up to Mith, "What are you doing? She's hurt! That darkness will kill her off!"
Mith simply and quietly turned and looked at Cur. "Is your memory so little that you cannot remember the time when all of us had to do this? Do you not remember the time when we had to let each face the darkness within himself and conquer it? Do you not remember that final test that made us Istari? We were sent to make sure she got to that stage, not help her through it, either she conquers it or she doesn't." Mithrandir's eyes were strangely hard, yet soft. They must have been steely, but the tears gathering there contested it.
Cur stood here, hand still pressed to his side. He concentrated on his side and kept the blood flow down, and it finally stopped. He focused even more and the skin healed over. He then put all of his attention on Tiwena. Olorin had properly chastised him, he would watch. But watching brought back painful memories; memories he would rather forget, but couldn't.
Twe stood there, a small girl, her garment started to some afire again, and her hair starting to whip in the growing wind. The darkness simply waited, a towering wall of blackness, whose very corona was black, not even a reflection, it seemed to absorb light. The two stood there, woefully outmatched by Curunir's guess. Mithrandir mealy keep his face forward, but his attention dwelt on a time when 6 good friends had been in the undying lands, a time when they had to pass their final test, the test to overcome them selves. He remembered her, Faethalion "Strong Spirit", she was the 6th wizard in training. She had always been the strong one, the first to conquer her emotions, the first to master all weapons, and the first to help you up when you fell, for it seemed as if she never fell or stumbled. She was so strong, she would have been the 6th Istari, but she had failed. A failure that was her downfall, when she fell, she did not stumble, but plummeted, even in her fall, she had to go the whole way. The darkness within herself had consumed her; her shrieking cries had echoed in their minds for years afterwards.
The Valar said that they might be able to heal her, but they did not promise. The Istari had to leave, with or without their 6th companion. Mithrandir wanted to run to Tiwena, to shield her form what could possibly kill her, but something stronger held him back, a will much greater than his held him back.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Twe stood facing the darkness, there was only one thought on her mind, What am I suppose to do now? It had been clear before, a clear enemy; the orcs. But now she couldn't think of anything better, so she just stood there. And she hoped that some great idea would come to mind. The darkness stayed there too, unmoving, and swirling mass of black clouds and darkness. Twe gulped, the darkness seemed to be a wall, a very STRONG and invulnerable wall. Twe almost stepped back, she wanted to get away from the horrifying darkness. But somehow, her inner self resurfaced. She was getting to know the way there quite well by now. First that place had led her to let forth all the energy and kill the orcs, then it had kept giving her reserves of energy to contain the energy, now it gave her the last reserve of energy she had, she would need to make it last.
The stare down had begun. But almost without her knowing it, and light was leaking from Twe. It was a thin, gold and silver mist. It spread out and rose up and the center became an almost painful white. The center seemed to crystallize and throw the sun light off into small rainbows, which only added to her growing cloud of light. Soon Twe's cloud was as big as the dark cloud. The two stood there for a second, but then started to slide across the ground, moving towards each other.
Then they clashed. There was utter silence, but the two clouds hurled at each other. The tendrils of mist wrapped around each other, trying to subdue the other. For a while the two adversaries were at a stalemate, they wrestled with each other, both equal. But then a dark beam shot through the warring haze straight towards Twe. It hit Twe full in the chest. Twe's head jerked backwards, thrown into a whiplash buy the force of the beam's strength. The beam dragged Twe slowly through the light, into the gray and then into the black.
All the while Twe's body shook with convulsions and thrashings as she tried to escape the darkness that clutched at her. She screamed, it was a high, shrill scream; it cut thorough the silence, and hit Curunir and Mithrandir like a ton of bricks. The scream brought back painful memories rater left forgotten, but could never be. A small halo of light was held around Twe, but as soon as she got into the jet-black, the halo flicked, grew dim, and died; the Istari could not see Twe anymore.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"NOOOOO!!!" Curunir lunged at the mists, of which the light side was quickly dissolving. But Mithrandir lunged forward and grabbed him. "No, you can't Cur!" Curunir struggled with Mithrandir, but held as he was by Mithrandir's grasp, he couldn't escape. "NOO! LET ME GO! I NEED TO GO TO HER OLORIN! SHE'S IN TROUBLE, I MUST HELP HER!" Suddenly his wild tone dropped to a rough voice, cracked with pain, "Do you want her to die as Faethalion did?" Curunir glared at Mithrandir. He knew that Mithrandir had been in love with Faethalion. "Do you?" his mind voice was a deathly whisper now, cold and as hard as steel.
Mithrandir was ready to loosen his grip, when a voice spoke in his head, "No, do not let him go Olorin. Tiwena must face this on her own, she must face her darkest fears by herself if she is to become an Istari." The voice was a powerful voice, but as you know a cat is a powerful cat. The muscles rippled with contained, controlled, and manipulated power, just as this voice did. But the voice spoke not so much in words as in thoughts, a mixture between words, pictures, feelings, and impulses.
Mithrandir tightened his grip and closed his mind to Curunir's deceiving voice. Curunir's gift was words, he could read at an amazing rate, retain it all, and could talk a troll out of it's hoard if he had too. But the tears leaking down Mithrandir's cheeks told Curunir more than his hard eyes did. Mithrandir wanted to go to her, he wanted to stop her to keep her form the death he was sure was moments away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The present was over laid with a view of the past. The 5 Istari were standing next to each other, backs straight and tall, waiting. They waited for their self-appointed leader, Faethalion. She was the first to undergo the test. She had also stood her ground against the darkness, but her foe had been a dark warrior, bones of his enemies slung about him, jangling at his every movement. The hollow sound of bone on bone and the crunch of metal shod footsteps, and the bloody broadsword was enough to send shivers down all of the watchers backs.
But Faethalion stood tall. She crossed her wrists above her head and a light spread from the cross-formed by her arms. The light grew and formed another warrior. This one was as tall as the dark one and it also covered Faethalion. The two warriors stopped and sized one another up, then as if in agreement, they lunged. The two were in battle for a while, no one could tell how long, but all of the sudden, the dark warrior dropped his blade and pierced the armor of Faethalion's knight with his fist.
Faethalion shrank back, but the fist opened and grabbed her throat. He pulled at her, the armor dissipated into thin air and only her throat and the strong armor coved arm held Faethalion several feet from the ground. Fae kicked at the man, but everything within reach was covered in armor. Then the arm drew into itself, the arm seemed to pull in, and the armhole grew wide to accept Fae. The fingers must have loosened enough just as Fae entered, because she let out one last final piercing shriek before she disappeared into the armor.
The 5 were immediately trying to get to Fae, but the Valar held them back. The Valar's eyes held pity and sorrow, but they would not help nor let the others held Faethalion. Mithrandir had fought the hardest. He had sprang at the Valar again and again, and finally collapsed at their feet, bruised, broken, and in pain. Mithrandir was curled up in a fetal position, the picture of Faethalion disappearing into the black armor lingering on his mind. For years afterwards, he would wake up, his cheeks wet with tears, his throat and eyes raw from crying out, and the single phrase, I'm sorry on his lips. Faethalion's voice haunted him forever.
When the Valar had picked up Fae after the dark armor dissipated as well, her body was broken. It was contorted in ways that the human body was never meant to be in, and that even Fae's flexibleness couldn't form.
The next day they had left the undying lands, partially to get away form the place where Faethalion had finally been broken.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Curunir's body was wracked with sobs by now, "Tiwena, Tiwena." Mithrandir let him down and gently put him on the ground, Curunir curled up into the fetal position. Mithrandir couldn't do anything to comfort him, he knew from personal experience. All he wanted to do was to break down, to kill the bastard darkness that had taken Fae and then die so he could be with her.
Tears steamed down his face, and his face contorted with the pain he felt form the lost life, but he did not cry out. Curunir was howling and weeping enough for the both of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wow, you don't know how hard that was to write, but things get better, promise. Read on, at least to see what happens to every one, the surprises aren't over!
~Kit ;)
Chapter 10: The Battle and The Effects
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it asap.
Thoughts are in Italics. Thoughts spoken to each other are "in italics". If they are speaking in elvish, *elvish*, if dwarvish, dwarvish, if they are speaking normally, "It will be normal."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They all stood they for a while, staring at each other. Suddenly everything broke loose. The three stood there but everyone else rushed at them. Suddenly, Mith found himself in the middle of a battle, dodging weapons and hitting people with shoots of light from his hands. He ducked, dodged, rolled, kicked, and hit. It seemed as if the press of creatures around him would never end, not matter how many her knocked out, there were always more. Mith sensed that the press was slighter to his right, he yelled sent the other two his thoughts, they agreed; and they all started to hack their ways through the press.
Curunir had kept Twe in his sight the whole time, suddenly a cave troll came between Twe and him, he hacked at it till it fell, and he clambered over it's huge hulk. Suddenly he felt dread clutching at his stomach, where was Twe? He didn't see here anywhere! Suddenly he saw her flaming garment fro a flash of a second, but I t was enough, he jumped down and ran to where she had fallen. She was struggling to get out form under an orc that lay on top of her.
He ran over and yanked on the orc, bit by bit it moved. Finally Twe lay there on the ground, her flame colored garment was blotted out in some places by the orc blood, but she didn't look like she was bleeding. Cur dumped the orc to the side and turned back to Twe, she tried to get up, but suddenly she clutched her stomach and groaned, "I think I've broken some ribs." She told him. He immediately bent down and grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up. Mith could only hold off the creatures for so long, they needed to get up and in the clear.
Holding Twe up with one arm and holding others off with another, Cur walked towards Mith, suddenly he stumbled over an orc, and they both went down, Twe crying out from the pain, "She must have broken a lot of her ribs." Mith told Cur in his mind. Unexpectedly, Mith was there, he swooped up Twe and blasted his way through the crowd, Cur managed to get up and stumble after him, knocking several creatures out on his way. Cur felt his side; he felt liquid and fire there. There was blood running down his side, some one must have swiped him with a spear. He clutched his side and continued on.
He wasn't sure whether he was out of the crowd or the crowd had been killed off, he had killed so many creatures he felt like he had been doing this forever. He looked around and saw that only Mith, Twe, and himself, plus that blackness were left, everyone else was down.
Then Mith set Twe on her feet, and gently backed up, leaving her standing there. Cur shook the fuzziness form his eyes and staggered up to Mith, "What are you doing? She's hurt! That darkness will kill her off!"
Mith simply and quietly turned and looked at Cur. "Is your memory so little that you cannot remember the time when all of us had to do this? Do you not remember the time when we had to let each face the darkness within himself and conquer it? Do you not remember that final test that made us Istari? We were sent to make sure she got to that stage, not help her through it, either she conquers it or she doesn't." Mithrandir's eyes were strangely hard, yet soft. They must have been steely, but the tears gathering there contested it.
Cur stood here, hand still pressed to his side. He concentrated on his side and kept the blood flow down, and it finally stopped. He focused even more and the skin healed over. He then put all of his attention on Tiwena. Olorin had properly chastised him, he would watch. But watching brought back painful memories; memories he would rather forget, but couldn't.
Twe stood there, a small girl, her garment started to some afire again, and her hair starting to whip in the growing wind. The darkness simply waited, a towering wall of blackness, whose very corona was black, not even a reflection, it seemed to absorb light. The two stood there, woefully outmatched by Curunir's guess. Mithrandir mealy keep his face forward, but his attention dwelt on a time when 6 good friends had been in the undying lands, a time when they had to pass their final test, the test to overcome them selves. He remembered her, Faethalion "Strong Spirit", she was the 6th wizard in training. She had always been the strong one, the first to conquer her emotions, the first to master all weapons, and the first to help you up when you fell, for it seemed as if she never fell or stumbled. She was so strong, she would have been the 6th Istari, but she had failed. A failure that was her downfall, when she fell, she did not stumble, but plummeted, even in her fall, she had to go the whole way. The darkness within herself had consumed her; her shrieking cries had echoed in their minds for years afterwards.
The Valar said that they might be able to heal her, but they did not promise. The Istari had to leave, with or without their 6th companion. Mithrandir wanted to run to Tiwena, to shield her form what could possibly kill her, but something stronger held him back, a will much greater than his held him back.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Twe stood facing the darkness, there was only one thought on her mind, What am I suppose to do now? It had been clear before, a clear enemy; the orcs. But now she couldn't think of anything better, so she just stood there. And she hoped that some great idea would come to mind. The darkness stayed there too, unmoving, and swirling mass of black clouds and darkness. Twe gulped, the darkness seemed to be a wall, a very STRONG and invulnerable wall. Twe almost stepped back, she wanted to get away from the horrifying darkness. But somehow, her inner self resurfaced. She was getting to know the way there quite well by now. First that place had led her to let forth all the energy and kill the orcs, then it had kept giving her reserves of energy to contain the energy, now it gave her the last reserve of energy she had, she would need to make it last.
The stare down had begun. But almost without her knowing it, and light was leaking from Twe. It was a thin, gold and silver mist. It spread out and rose up and the center became an almost painful white. The center seemed to crystallize and throw the sun light off into small rainbows, which only added to her growing cloud of light. Soon Twe's cloud was as big as the dark cloud. The two stood there for a second, but then started to slide across the ground, moving towards each other.
Then they clashed. There was utter silence, but the two clouds hurled at each other. The tendrils of mist wrapped around each other, trying to subdue the other. For a while the two adversaries were at a stalemate, they wrestled with each other, both equal. But then a dark beam shot through the warring haze straight towards Twe. It hit Twe full in the chest. Twe's head jerked backwards, thrown into a whiplash buy the force of the beam's strength. The beam dragged Twe slowly through the light, into the gray and then into the black.
All the while Twe's body shook with convulsions and thrashings as she tried to escape the darkness that clutched at her. She screamed, it was a high, shrill scream; it cut thorough the silence, and hit Curunir and Mithrandir like a ton of bricks. The scream brought back painful memories rater left forgotten, but could never be. A small halo of light was held around Twe, but as soon as she got into the jet-black, the halo flicked, grew dim, and died; the Istari could not see Twe anymore.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"NOOOOO!!!" Curunir lunged at the mists, of which the light side was quickly dissolving. But Mithrandir lunged forward and grabbed him. "No, you can't Cur!" Curunir struggled with Mithrandir, but held as he was by Mithrandir's grasp, he couldn't escape. "NOO! LET ME GO! I NEED TO GO TO HER OLORIN! SHE'S IN TROUBLE, I MUST HELP HER!" Suddenly his wild tone dropped to a rough voice, cracked with pain, "Do you want her to die as Faethalion did?" Curunir glared at Mithrandir. He knew that Mithrandir had been in love with Faethalion. "Do you?" his mind voice was a deathly whisper now, cold and as hard as steel.
Mithrandir was ready to loosen his grip, when a voice spoke in his head, "No, do not let him go Olorin. Tiwena must face this on her own, she must face her darkest fears by herself if she is to become an Istari." The voice was a powerful voice, but as you know a cat is a powerful cat. The muscles rippled with contained, controlled, and manipulated power, just as this voice did. But the voice spoke not so much in words as in thoughts, a mixture between words, pictures, feelings, and impulses.
Mithrandir tightened his grip and closed his mind to Curunir's deceiving voice. Curunir's gift was words, he could read at an amazing rate, retain it all, and could talk a troll out of it's hoard if he had too. But the tears leaking down Mithrandir's cheeks told Curunir more than his hard eyes did. Mithrandir wanted to go to her, he wanted to stop her to keep her form the death he was sure was moments away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The present was over laid with a view of the past. The 5 Istari were standing next to each other, backs straight and tall, waiting. They waited for their self-appointed leader, Faethalion. She was the first to undergo the test. She had also stood her ground against the darkness, but her foe had been a dark warrior, bones of his enemies slung about him, jangling at his every movement. The hollow sound of bone on bone and the crunch of metal shod footsteps, and the bloody broadsword was enough to send shivers down all of the watchers backs.
But Faethalion stood tall. She crossed her wrists above her head and a light spread from the cross-formed by her arms. The light grew and formed another warrior. This one was as tall as the dark one and it also covered Faethalion. The two warriors stopped and sized one another up, then as if in agreement, they lunged. The two were in battle for a while, no one could tell how long, but all of the sudden, the dark warrior dropped his blade and pierced the armor of Faethalion's knight with his fist.
Faethalion shrank back, but the fist opened and grabbed her throat. He pulled at her, the armor dissipated into thin air and only her throat and the strong armor coved arm held Faethalion several feet from the ground. Fae kicked at the man, but everything within reach was covered in armor. Then the arm drew into itself, the arm seemed to pull in, and the armhole grew wide to accept Fae. The fingers must have loosened enough just as Fae entered, because she let out one last final piercing shriek before she disappeared into the armor.
The 5 were immediately trying to get to Fae, but the Valar held them back. The Valar's eyes held pity and sorrow, but they would not help nor let the others held Faethalion. Mithrandir had fought the hardest. He had sprang at the Valar again and again, and finally collapsed at their feet, bruised, broken, and in pain. Mithrandir was curled up in a fetal position, the picture of Faethalion disappearing into the black armor lingering on his mind. For years afterwards, he would wake up, his cheeks wet with tears, his throat and eyes raw from crying out, and the single phrase, I'm sorry on his lips. Faethalion's voice haunted him forever.
When the Valar had picked up Fae after the dark armor dissipated as well, her body was broken. It was contorted in ways that the human body was never meant to be in, and that even Fae's flexibleness couldn't form.
The next day they had left the undying lands, partially to get away form the place where Faethalion had finally been broken.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Curunir's body was wracked with sobs by now, "Tiwena, Tiwena." Mithrandir let him down and gently put him on the ground, Curunir curled up into the fetal position. Mithrandir couldn't do anything to comfort him, he knew from personal experience. All he wanted to do was to break down, to kill the bastard darkness that had taken Fae and then die so he could be with her.
Tears steamed down his face, and his face contorted with the pain he felt form the lost life, but he did not cry out. Curunir was howling and weeping enough for the both of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wow, you don't know how hard that was to write, but things get better, promise. Read on, at least to see what happens to every one, the surprises aren't over!
~Kit ;)