CHAPTER 3
"Oh, look at the poor thing."
Legolas slowly fought his way back through the darkness. He knew what awaited him, the pain, the fear. But he needed to know. He needed to know who this was and why. Ignoring the protests of his body, he forced his eyes to open.
" And now he awakens. How are you feeling elf?" The creature spat his last words. " So, this is how mighty and strong you elves really are. And all this time people have believed those myths of your beauty and light. Wait until you get a look at yourself, Elf…Ha!"
Accompanied with a swift kick, this brought the elf's attention to a new height. Using his elven senses he tried to get a bearing of his situation. In his stupor, he had noticed that they were moving him. This new room was just as dark and dank, but with a subtle difference. It was sweltering. The dankness was more from humidity in the air than the dirty water of his last place of imprisonment. Elves weren't normally affected by environmental differences, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of them. And in his weakened state, his awareness was all that more clear. Directing his now focused gaze at the being above him, he decided to get right to the point. "Why am I here?"
From the darkness he heard laughter, dark, sick, twisted laughter. " Get right to the point don't we, little one." It was still too dark to make out features, and he was still unable to move, but Legolas kept his gaze upon what or whom he assumed was responsible for his capture and torture. Apparently, his confusion was apparent, for next came, " Don't you recognize me?"
At his silence, the thing continued, " I'm the creature of your nightmares, oh prince of light. I have been waiting centuries, readying myself for this fateful moment. I see you're either too dumb to understand, or to weak to grasp my meaning. Perhaps this will refresh your memory." At this the creature leaned forward, staring right into the elf's face and began reciting…
There will come a time
Where a special one
A hero of eight
Who once saved all
Will in the end
Only lose himself
To the darkness and the plight
Which his own heart creates
For he leads with his light
But he blinds with his hate
He will fall
When all is done
And begin again
That which he once fought
For his light will be dimmed
And his purity dashed
And evil will replace his goodness
And through him a new devil will reawaken
To destroy all
Supported by those creatures who had only hours earlier been torturing him, Legolas as last came to understand. He recognized that prophecy. It had been taught long ago, but forgotten by most because of its vagueness. He only remembered it for when the fellowship was united, the number had struck him. Now he feared that vagueness, for he knew not exactly what that evil was…whether it was standing there before him, or whether it was residing inside him. He raised his head to stare directly into the hooded face, yet still couldn't make out any features. Was this darkness solidified in form perhaps? That was nonsense, but why then could he not make it out. The being talked and moved as man, but…man. Could this be another coincidence? Surely not. Too many different thoughts began to whirl around, and he knew that his strength was gone, for he only remained upright because of those claws which dug into his arms. He hoped to be left alone…to think. He would even endure another beating, for then he could think. He didn't want to confront this "darkness" in front of him.
" I can see through you weak prince. I know you now doubt yourself. That's a dangerous thing to do, but how can you help it. For you are to be the source of destruction for all. Did you know that. Funny thing, you risked your life to save a world which you are destined to conquer and destroy. Don't look so surprised, you knew it all along. I know you did. For you see…this is all a dream. Oh yes, a dream." Legolas' gaze hardened. " You will soon awaken, and find yourself still chained to that wall, bleeding, dying. But you won't die. Elves are immortal. You suffer as mortals, yet aren't lucky enough to die of the same mortal wounds. How ironic."
The thing slapped Legolas to get his attention. The pain was real, even if it was a nightmare. Dreams and nightmares were rare for elves, and often meant that the elf was either gifted in prophecy, or unbalanced in mind. The later had to be true, for Legolas was never a prophet. His state of delirium had to be due to his wounded body. " Again I ask, why am I here?"
" You are here to fulfill the prophecy. You were captured so that you could be turned into that which you are destined. Now no more questions, I believe it is time for your next session with your captors." And with that, everything disappeared, and darkness returned.