I just want to say that I don't own Lord of the Rings even though I wish I did. However, I do own the concept of the Torch Riders and the character Eurayle, who will be introduced next chapter.

Introductions & A Brief History Of The Former Middle Earth

The legends of the Great Era of Fellowship of the Ring seemed to be nothing more then stories told by the elders. It was hopeless though. For countless generations, as more and more children were born and bred in the flames of war and death, the stories of Aragorn, Mortal god of War and Judgment, and of Arwen, goddess of Hope further withered away.
With the tales and survivors of the Great War, died the languages and traditions. No longer was the language of Immortals spoken. No longer did Dwarves hold dominion of the worlds beneath the crust of the earth. Everything, traditions, farmlands, the times of peace, had completely fallen to ruin. None more noticeable than what is now Melpomene Forest. The trees were dead but still they spoke of generations long since past. Shimmering white bark looked silvery under the moonlight. The soil beneath was dry and blew up in clouds with each step. Gnarled branches reached towards the night sky, as if begging the gods for a salvation that wouldn't come. It was a tragic sight. The very thought of the skeletal forest made it hard to believe that this was the very place where the priests and priestess' believed that Lorien, the fabled kingdom of Galadriel, Mother of the gods and goddesses, once existed. Melpomene Forest, former land of the Gods? Hah, ridiculous!
No one really knew how long the war had lasted, nor what had originally started it. However, it was said that after Aragorn and Arwen mortally passed away to return to the land of the Gods, the peace between the countries of the place once known as Middle Earth had begun to disintegrate. Whatever the cause of the war, most didn't know, but because of it, many new and shadowed groups of men and women had been formed. But along with the dark came the light of the Royal Council, the bonding of the four countries of the north, founded by the country of Bittore, and its crown city of Alcippe, leaders of the war against Trista, the desert nations of Jaleh and Rajni, and the sea faring warriors of Tamary.
As of the factions left to dwell in secrecy, among these, are the ones bound to the duty of finding, piling, and burning the bodies of the fallen. Depending on which country you entered, they would be called by different names, however, when spoken in Origin Voice, the most blunt and literal version of speech, they are called Torch Riders.
Well versed in the strategies, formalities, and weaponry of war, they were the ones sent by their respected kingdoms to the battlefields. Do not look upon them in pity or disgust, for in all kingdoms, Fire Riders are chosen by the rulers or councils. They are not given a choice. And though burning the bodies of the dead may seem cruel and disrespectful, this group of exiles was formed out of necessity.
After five generations of battle, the idea of burial was becoming pointless and had not been proven practical on many occasions. The war ravaged lands' soil had turned to dust, and when the winds came, the piles of armor would be unearthed, only to be greedily stolen by men and the bones left to be carried away by animals.
And so the position of the Torch Riders was established. However, not just anyone was chosen. Only those who had seen death and experienced the mournful anguish on such a high scale as to not be affected by it any longer were taken. In Bittore, sadly, it is a rarity for a complete family to be living together. Many men die on the battlefields and with hearts full of sorrow, women commit suicide, leaving their distraught and lonely children alone to be drafted in the Torch Riders. Taught to them are the proper ways in which to address and pile the dead, the spells, prayers, poems, and songs for the burnings, and basic reading, writing, and mathematics. With such lessons, come strict rules. They are harsh and numerous. So many exist that it would be pointless for me to even try to name them all. However, I'm sure that once our story begins, some of these shall become known. And no, unfortunately, there are very few loop holes and exceptions to these laws.
Ironically, Riders are highly regarded, and are often in the favor of the royal families and councils. For all of the horrible work that is forced upon them, this comes as no surprise. As such, it is international law not to kill them. To murder a Rider is taboo and those responsible are severely punished. After all, Riders are taught not to fight back, even when assaulted.
Perhaps now you are wondering how one would go about identifying them. The tell tale sign is that of the marks on their faces. If one were foolish enough to unknowingly attack one and pull back the hoods of their countries uniforms, the black, tear shaped tattoos beneath both eyes would immediately bring a stop to the interference. With all Riders, the ordeal of getting the tattoo is done as soon as they come of age. In the case of Bittore, this is thirteen. Also, all are required to wear the crest of their respected kingdoms as the clasp for their cloaks.
Galadriel, divine mother of the gods, surely, if you are looking down upon this shell of former Middle Earth, you are weeping. Pray, fair lady, for no longer is this place Middle Earth. The forge of war and terror has twisted it, creating it anew, as Orin.

Author's note: Sorry if this seemed boring to you. Review though okay? By the way, for all of you confused, with the death of the Fellowship, died the names of the different realms, this will be explained later. Eurayle, by the way, is Greek as well. The name means, "wanders far". This is obviously a fitting name for a Rider.