Disclaimer: I only own those characters that I conjured up.

Thanks to all who reviewed. I really appreciate it!

Concerning the change in title… well, I came across this word while searching the dictionary. It means 'hate, coupled with disgust'. I thought it was a fitting title as it represents her feelings towards the Gondorians…

– Odium –
Chapter Two

The loud and intruding call of a rooster crept into her dreamless sleep, drawing her away from a world where she was safe, and where everything was perfect. Groaning softly, she burrowed back under the covers, her mind still fogged from sleep. The rising sleep shone slowly into her room, each ray coming to rest upon where she lay.

Somewhere at the back of her mind a thought surfaced, and was not even fully formed before she pushed it back again. Was it so impossible to get a few more precious minutes of rest before she awoke? After all, she had spent the whole of last night packing, surely Father would have her sleep longer.

Wait. Packing? What did I have to pack for? Not for the trading… that was last week…

She sat bolt upright in bed –wide awake and alert –as reality finally crept into mind, giving herself a swift mental kick for even managing to forget it. It was her birthday, yes, but it was something more important since she would be finally to be free, and do whatever she wanted.

Which, of course, included that plan.

She was ready within minutes, padding down the short hallway towards the small room where they usually dined. Hidaer was already there, and breakfast was ready. Rufas II though, was nowhere to be found near his place at his master's feet, and the girl surmised that he was already guarding the herds.

"Morning, Father," Kyelia said, trying to sound neutral, hiding the nervous excitement that had somewhat risen in her voice. She watched as her adoptive father raised an eyebrow in answer, and fought to keep a smile from appearing on her face.

"Come here," he finally spoke, dispelling the easy silence between them as he rose from his seat. Unfolding her in his arms, he hugged her tight, knowing that she would be gone soon. And it was perhaps the last time he would ever see her, alive or dead. Whispering into her ear, he asked if she was ready, getting a firm nod in answer. She was too impatient!

Though somehow he knew, that if he was in her position, he would have done the same. The fire of youth coursed strongly though her veins, and she was young still, with the whole future before her. Though by a twisted chance of fate, she had been 'made' to veer from the norm, and walk a different, darker path.

As he let her go, she stepped back and looked at him, chin held high. It was barely morning, and she was telling him she wanted to go. Preposterous!

"You have to eat before you set out, you know," he said in reply to her unspoken question.

Nodding slightly, she complied, and started to take her meal, abeit a little too hurriedly. So 'engrossed' was she in her food that she hardly noticed that Hidaer barely ate. Before long, her meal was finished.

The girl stood up as he gestured her to, and followed him hesitantly away out of the house, even as a helper came to clear the table. Her footsteps were sure and steady as she followed him past the stables and to a small storehouse on the premises, tucked some distance away from the house. A look of surprise registered on her face as she wondered where it was all leading. After all, the storehouse had been left forgotten for as long as she remembered. The last time she entered it was on a dare, many years back. The interior was dusty, and cobwebby, and various rodents and insects had seen it fit to build homes there. The tools it had used to contain were rusty and dented with lack of use, made obsolete by newer counterparts. Besides, being exposed to sunshine and rain, she highly doubted that its condition would be somewhat normal.

So why was he leading her there?

As they rounded the corner, she started to slowly understand. The old storehouse seemed different from then. It had been repaired, the webs that framed the entrance had been cleared, and the rotten wood replaced with new ones. As Hidaer slowly led her up the steps, he turned and smiled.

"Close your eyes."

She obliged, and stood there, not knowing what to expect.

The door barely creaked as it was opened, the hinges having been well oiled. Kyelia felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder as he showed her in, and another nudge as a signal to stop. Resisting a curious urge to peak out, she waited.

And waited.

And finally decided to open her eyes.

"Father, stop to-"

Her half-constructed sentence died in her throat as she saw the sword in front of her.

It was propped up against the wall, sheathed and inviting, calling for her to hold it. She scarcely noticed the faint trembling of her hands as she approached the sword, and took it up. Its hilt was wrapped in leather, and fashioned to adhere to the ridges of her hand even as she held it. Its pommel was of solid metal, smooth to the touch. The sheath was but smooth leather, sturdy yet tough. Straps were sewn to its length, enabling her to attach it onto her back. Its insides were lined with soft silk, so as not to scratch the blade.

Slowly, she unsheathed it, admiring it as she went along. The blade was gleaming and new as the sunlight shone upon it. It was slightly curved, slender, and best of all: it was a double-edged sword. As she hoped, it was double-handed, as she liked it.

A shift in step was heard from behind, and she was reminded of being in the small storehouse. Inserting the sword back into its sheath smoothly, she turned around to meet the shining face of Hidaer.

"Thank you Father, it was the best gift I ever received."

He watched her as her eyes gleamed with joy, and happiness. She still liked her worn sword, the one that he had passed to her that spring when she was but thirteen. It was a gift from his father, on and on back into the distant history when the world was formed. But he knew she had always wanted a sword of her own. Now she had it.

"You forged it, didn't you, Father?"

Kyelia did not need to wait for an answer to know she was right. The rather sheepish look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. All those nights that he had bade her good night before retiring to his room. Only that he did not. Sure, the fires were blown out, and the door was shut, but she remembered the odd clanging sounds that appeared in the middle of the night. They were however, muffled to her ears, being some distance away near the smithy, as she reckoned. They went on for a week, maybe two, before stopping the night before the last.

As she expected, her father said nothing, but instead turned to walk out. She was passed by him to go to the 'practice field' as she called it, she heard him murmuring something, and strained to hear it. The words made her laugh and she faked an annoyed look in his direction. Looking back at her, Hidaer waved her off towards the plain.

He had said, "and I was wondering how long it would take for you to finally open your eyes."

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She was back in her old village. It was untouched, the very image of it before the massacre. But the air seemed strange. It smelt of blood, and of decomposing flesh.

She looked around as she walked through it. No bodies littered the ground, nor was there any sign of blood. Here and there she could hear the happy screams of children at play, and the faint humming of women at work. In the distance, she could hear the barking of sheepdogs, and of bleating of lambs as they grazed.

Yet she could not see anyone.

She looked down as a weight pulled down on one hand, and looked to see the Gondorian sword. It was bloody, and as she walked, blood dripped behind her like a ghastly trail. She tried to clean it with her coarse dress, but it seemed impossible.

The sound of footsteps distracted her from her task, and she looked up to see her father. He was walking towards her, a cloak around his broad shoulders and a smile upon his weathered face. She felt herself becoming a young face again, longing for her father's gentle embrace and soothing words. She started running towards him, and was caught in his arms. He was swinging her around, as if she was but a feather, weightless. His mouth was moving, yet there was no sound. Somehow she made out his words, "You've returned, daughter! You're home."

As he let her down, she saw the rest of her family. Her mother came out, carrying her baby sister, gurgling softly in her blankets. Her brother was next, still a young boy no more than six. She shook her head and looked at them. The massacre was but a nightmare, nothing more. She could remain here in the village, and be with her family forever.

But something was wrong.

She was twenty, and they had barely aged a day since that hot summer. Before she could figure out the pieces of the puzzle, a horse neighed behind her, and she turned around in shock. But the horse was gone. It had already galloped away, a fair-skinned man upon its muscular back.

Her family!

She turned back around, to try to help them. She could not fail again!

But she was still too late.

She watched in horror, as her father collapsed. The cloak was flung off his body, to reveal a fist-shaped hole in his chest. Blood was gushing out from that hole, but there was no heart. Her brother took a few tentative steps towards her, and with every step, there came a myriad of fresh new blood lines running all over his body. She flinched as a dagger pierced through his skull, even as an unseen hand decapitated his head. His torso toppled, the small pieces piling upon each other. Her mother, had retreated till her back faced a hut. She started to run over to help, but her limbs were weighed down like lead. She watched helplessly as her mother slid down, leaving a trail of blood.

Her sister!

She looked around, heart pounding in her chest, before her eyes came to rest upon her sister's prone form. The sword was pierced through her… but it was in her hand! Glancing at her hand, her worst fears were confirmed. She was not holding the sword.

Bodies materialised out from the air, and toppled around her, dead before they fell.

She quickly walked backwards, occasionally stumbling over bodies. She was but a little girl now, fearful of death, and overcome with sorrow.

It hit her then: she was in the Land of Ghosts.

Kyelia's eyes snapped open as her nightmare ended. In the west, the sun was but starting to set, and her journey was to begin at dusk, an hour away. The dream troubled her. It had stopped years ago, after she started training, but now, it was back in its gory fullness. Perhaps it was a message from the underworld, or maybe it was just nothing. But whatever the hidden message was, her family, and her village at that, were to be avenged.

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"Kyelia!" the man called irritatedly for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had chased the girl off to rest after she finished playing with her new sword, and she had insisted that she was not tired. Still, it was almost three hours since then, and she was still in deep slumber. Dusk was setting in, and she was to go soon.

"You called me, Father?"

And she was there, standing in front of him, fully prepared and ready to go. Her new sword, yet unnamed, was strapped onto her back, its pommel sticking prominently from behind her right shoulder. Her bow and arrows too strapped to her back. She was dressed in her normal attire: a leather vest laced over a loose tunic, and leggings. It was not customary wear for Harad women, who often wore coarse dresses made of spun wool, but the girl had decided a long time ago that she had to wear this to fight properly. Her bag of provisions that also contained some money was slung by her side, and made for easy disposition if she needed to defend herself.

"You are… ready," he said, still quite unbelieving that she was also to fulfil her vow. As usual, he got a nod. After all, the girl hardly wanted to waste breath unless necessary. He was mildly surprised as she went up to him, and embrace him.

"Farewell Father," she whispered before turning and going out of the door.

"Wait!"

She stopped, yet did not turn to look at him.

"I will accompany you to the Road."

"I kno-"

"I know you know the way. But just this once, Kyelia, just to see you off safely."

His soft voice almost cracked the icy chill that had started to settle around her heart. Her shoulder sagged, and he knew that she had relented.

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It took them a quarter hour to get to Harad Road, and when they reached, they almost passed it. The dry grass that grew on the lands almost covered the well-worn path, for it had not been used since the days of the War of the Ring.

He bade her goodbye, and wished her well on her journey. The road was long, and hard, with many unseen dangers. His heart broke to leave his adoptive daughter alone after almost twelve years, though he knew full well that she was capable of defending herself.

An awkward silence ensued before she spoke, "I'd better get going."

Lowering her head, she turned to the Road, and stepped onto its broad width. Her hand held onto the strap of her bag as she looked far into the distance. Though there would be nothing but grass and sand for leagues, she sworn she could faintly see the city of Minas Tirith, outlined against the setting sun. She was headed there. Exhaling softly, she slowly started to walk.

A bark shattered the evening air, and Kyelia turned around. Rufas II was bearing down hard upon her, and in seconds he was there, bringing her to the ground. It seemed as if he was bent on licking her to death, as his slobbery tongue licked her death, as though punishing her for forgetting him. She attempted to lift the heavy dog up, turning pleading eyes to Hidaer –who stood by the side laughing –to help her. It turned out that help was not needed as the dog slowly walked off, and stood at the side, looking at her forlornly.

She got up to her feet, wiping her face dry with a towel that Hidaer had passed to her.

"Sorry, Rufas, but I really must go," she told him, petting his head.

Then she was walking down the Road, Rufas following beside her, intent on accompanying her to Gondor. However, they had scarcely gone ten fathoms before Kyelia hurried the dog back towards his master, and he reluctantly left.

She looked back at them, as she stood there. They were the only family she had known for the past years, and now, they were not there for her anymore. She was alone, in a world she barely knew, with neither kin nor kith. She raised an arm in farewell towards the figures of a man and his dog, backlit by the sun.

---------------------------------------------------

Hidaer stood by the Road, hoping for her to turn back and return, yet in his heart, he knew she was too determined to do that. He watched till she was but a speck in the distance, before turning away. Rufas was still sitting by the road, mournful eyes trained onto it, as if waiting for his beloved mistress to come back. But they were both to wait in vain.

"Come on Rufas, we have to return."

The dog trained his brown eyes on the man, silently pleading to be able to wait, before finally understanding that she was not returning in the near future. He got up –tail between his legs, and his head drooped towards the ground –and followed his master home, stopping occasionally to look back at the Road.

But there was no figure in sight.

Tbc…

Note:
-Hidaer wanted her to travel at night as it provides cover for her, and prevents her from being seen, as the surrounding landscape is flat.

Another chapter down, and some more to go. Around ten or so I think. I don't think I'll be able to update so quickly soon though. School's restarting on the third of Jan, and I can only use the pc for a short time on weekends, so... And the story will get more interesting after this chapter, trust me.

For now though, Please help me Review! Thanks!

Taelir: Perhaps from having kill bill and resident evil marathons. grins nah. Seriously? I don't really remember…

A girl named bob: Thanks for the review! Um, where did you come up with that name? Just kidding! Glad you like this story.

obsessedwithharrypotter: Ah yes, Aragorn's sexy! At this moment, the muse says I don't kill him, but let's see what happens when I get to writing that chapter…

lindahoyland: Thanks for the (double) review! I don't think Kyelia's really concerned about causing another tragedy, she just wants revenge. I tried knocking some sense into her some days ago, but she wouldn't listen. sigh

doggypal: Hope you didn't lose your appetite after the prologue! : )