Ahéawan was crying. Crying and hunched over a large figure that was breathing hard and trembling in pain. Ahéawan whispered to the man she watched over, trying to sound brave through the shaking of her voice.
"You won't leave me," she commanded with a trembling lip. "No, you will pull through, and we will go home, and all of this will be nothing but a horrible dream."
The man gripped her hand and squeezed it firmly. "No, Ahéawan. I am ready to go. I have fought well, and will rest with honor," he said, still wincing with the enormous effort it took him to talk.
"No!" Ahéawan cried to her husband. "You can't give up! You must continue to fight!" She layed her head on his chest and sobbed as he stroked her slowly.
The strong man heard the cries of war around him but saw nothing but his wife's tear-streaked face. "Ahéawan...I will wait for you," he whispered as he felt his last breaths leaving him. "I love you."
Ahéawan held him and wept as her beloved went limp. She took a deep breath and took off the necklace she had worn for fourteen years. She unsheathed her husband's sword and plunged it into the earth beside his still figure, draping the necklace over the hilt. She blinked away her tears and mounted her horse as she heard her name being called. She rode on and didn't look back.

Ahéawan was awakened suddenly by a shrieking that she had never heard the likes of before. Wondering if she was still dreaming, she tried to open her eyes, but she could not. Her entire body was limp, but she could feel tension in the air. She also felt the presence of Sauron, and her heart filled with rage.
Slowly, Ahéawan felt conciousness return to her body, and she tried to move her limbs to no avail. She felt the muscles in her eyes and mouth return and pried her eyelids open half way, though she could only determine faintly the shadows of trees around her. Willing her mouth to work, Ahéawan struggled to utter one word, a name she had not spoken since that fateful day of battle as she lay at the side of her dying beloved.
"Wuldorn..."

A horrific screech left the Nazgul King as he saw the figures running further into the woods. Then he smiled. "So, you think you have friends do you?" His voice turned soft with venom. "They will only destroy you, curse you, turn you over to the elves!"
"No!" Fly cried. The words of the King were soaking into his thoughts, penetrating his will. He stood firm. "Leave them be!"

In answer the King let out a terrifying laugh. "Why? Why are they so special compared to the hundreds of others you have killed?"
Half of Fly was trying to buy the mortals time, yet all the while, the other half of him wondered why he even bothered.

Kiran looked over when he heard someone speak. Ahéawan had whispered a name. Good. She is awake. However, his attention was mainly on the Nazgul that had spotted them. "Fly has failed to disract them," he muttered. He then turned to the others. "We must make one last attempt to run to the village. Now!" He urged his horse forward and, glancing back, he saw the others do the same.

Hiranneth covered her ears in terror. The Nazgul had a cry of the devil himself. It appeared that they had been Kiran yelled, "Now!" and they all kicked their horses into a run. Hiranneth held onto the reins of Ahéawan's horse, struggling to keep the woman on her saddle. They rode with great speed into the thickening woods. They constantly ducted and dodged branches, leaves and falling debris. Then like a dream, a light shown through the trees and the shapes of Elves on horses came through the woods ahead. They yelled commands in Elvish and Hiranneth somehow suddenly knew what to do; she galloped past the Elves with the others behind her. The Elves stood their ground. Nothing could stop them. They were the Elves of Hunvel.

À urya cálë! Á rúcë mórë!" Rada cried as she led the Elves towards the approaching the Nazgul King.
She heard the echo of the others behind her and beside her, repeating the same threat. Rada held up her arm as she released her hawk, Ilwe, into the air, silently commanding him to keep the humans safe. She watched as he flew off, then gave the others the command to open fire upon the Nazgul. A great volley of fiery arrows sped through the sky, hitting their target with deadly precision. The Nazgul's mount reared, then fell over on top of the King as the arrows hit it. Rada cursed under her breath. She hoped that the Nazgul would take the majority of the blows, but fate had a different genre for them. A idea brushed her mind, and turning, she grabbed the torch used to light the arrows and raced towards the Nazgul. In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone else on a horse, but she soon forgot about it as she pulled her mount to a stop no more than twenty five feet away from the Nazgul and threw the burning torch at it. She breathed in satisfaction as the Nazgul King turned into a column of fire and reatreated off into the shadows of the forest.
"To Hunvel!" Rada exclaimed as the party turned their mounts and raced back to the city.

Their horses raced past the Elves into the safety of the city. Above them, Kiran glimpsed a hawk in flight. He heard the battle cries of the Elves and turned to see the flaming Nazgul retreating in the other direction. He briefly wondered if they had hurt Fly before remembering that---for all he knew---Fly had betrayed them. Once inside the city gates, Kiran dismounted and offered a hand to Hiranneth to help her down.

Kiarton dismounted his horse once inside the beautiful realm of Hunvel. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen; it was peaceful and serene. Pale white, blue and grey houses were built in trees and on the forest floor. Streams gurgled and waterfalls of clear water cascaded over shining rocks. Paths of jade encircled white cherry trees. The victorious Elves dismounted also and turned their eyes to the travelers. Kiarton wasn't sure how to greet them so he bowed low. The female leader of the group of Elves approached and Kiarton bowed again. "I am Kiarton and we are forever in your debt." He said, hoping that the noble Elf could understand him.

Ahéawan watched through half-closed and aching eyes as the battle scene unfolded before her. She heard war-cries, from whom she did not know, and again heard the terrible screech of a Nazgul. All at once, cries of victory filled the air, and she felt her horse moving under her, following her companions.
Her surroundings changed entirely, from a battle to a serene and peaceful place. Ahéawan gazed in wonder at this strange place, as much as her body would allow. She saw Elves approaching, and her companions communicating with them.
Still in a daze, Ahéawan tried again to move her limbs. She wanted to see these Elves, for reasons unknown to her. Somehow she seemed drawn to them.
As her eyesight grew clearer, she recognized Kiran and Kiarton nearby, and Hiranneth looking to her worriedly. Ahéawan tried to call out to her, tried to signal that she was okay, but she could not. She just waited, unmoving on her loyal horse, waiting to see what events would unfold next.

Kiran searched his mind for Quenya phrases as the Elves spoke. He was more fluent in Sindarin, but he hoped he knew enough to communicate with the elves here.
"Máravë omentaina! Essenya Kiran," he said. Well met! My name is Kiran. His accent and pronunciation betrayed the knowledge he lacked of their language. The elf replied with something that Kiran could not follow. All he caught was the sentence "Áva rucë." Fear not.

Hiranneth instantly felt the warm of the light of the village. Hunvel was clearly an Elven village; she had not guessed this when she first saw the map. The place seemed familiar to her, perhaps from a vague dream. Hiranneth looked down at the barely conscious woman who still lay over her saddle.
"It's alright," she said to Ahéawan, "We are in Hunvel, the village on the map. It is a safe place,safe from the harm of Nazguls and terrible things." This reassurance to Ahéawan was also to herself. She feared the beautiful Elves, though many people she came in contact with in her youth said she had the beauty of one.

Why did my mother have a map of this place? She had never even known her mother possessed it. Perhaps that is why the enemy wanted to burn the place down, but not before plundering it. Her breath caught in her throat, and a tear fell onto the soft earth.
She turned to the seeming leader of the Elven army, a kind and wise female Elf. "I am Hiranneth. Can you help my friend? We are in need of help also. I feel that my friends may be tired, myself as well." She paused, then said, "Can you tell me how my mother would be one to have a secret map of Hunvel?"
She hoped the Elf would have the answers; she hoped with all her heart.

Rada looked to the young girl with sad eyes. Your mother never told you.
"Save your questions for later, dear heart, for now your friend needs to see the Healer."
She then turned to the older injured woman, who was desperately trying to get up. Rada knelt next to her and placed her hand upon the woman's feverish brow, whispering Elvish words of comfort to her. Ahéawan was the woman's name, she felt. Not even bothering to ask what had happened, Rada scooped the woman up into her arms and looked to the others.
"Follow Lurkanio," she then gestured to a nearby Elf. "He will show you to your rooms. And you mustn't worry about your friend; I can assure you she will mend," said Rada reassuringly.
"Hiranneth, follow me please, and perhaps I can make sense of your many riddles."

Hiranneth looked at the strange Elf with many questions lingering in her eyes. She followed Rada as she had asked, but she was almost afraid. What would she learn from the Elf?

She was led into the house of Healing, where Ahéawan was placed on a bed. The woman shifted uncomfortably and finally lay still.
Hiranneth looked to Rada. Now they could tallk, but where did Kiran and Kiarton go?
"Before we talk, or actually when we talk, I want Kiran and Kiarton to be there," Hiranneth said to Rada. "They've been with me since the beginning of this journey."

Kiran followed the Elf that Rada called Lurkanio, leading his faithful horseDune by his side. Lurkanio first led them to the stables where they put their horses up, then turned to them and said something in Elvish. "Umin hanya. Kiran answered. I do not understand.

The Elf smiled. "I am sorry. I rarely have the need to use the human speech. I said that your horses will be cared for well here." He led them on to a ground level room that had fairly open walls with elegant Elvish tracery on them.
"If you need anything else, feel free to ask," Lurkanio said.

Kiarton trailed behind Lurkanio once he had left his horse Maorn with a large bowl of oats. "Hantanyel," Kiarton said with a small bow. I thank thee. His accent was not very good, he noticed. Lurkanio walked through the open doors at the far side of the room and left Kiarton and Kiran in silence. "I wonder where Hirraneth is." Kiarton said after a moment of silence.

"I wish I had spoken up and asked to go with her," Kiran said. He stared off into the distance, deep in thought. "Do you recall the words that Fly spoke, 'To where can you go where Morgoth doth not know?' They are part of a poem. I can't seem to remember the rest of it though. It may seem odd, but I feel like it's somehow important to remember it. Have you heard of it before?" he asked.

"It seems familiar." Kiarton answered. He pondered the words. "Speaking of Fly, I wonder where he is." His eyes explored the room. "I think that I will look around a little bit, this place is very intriguing."
Kiarton went out the same doorway through which Lurkanio had left. He stepped out into the cool air and looked at the many buildings, but one in particular caught his eye. It was not large, but it looked strange and a haunting feel was about it. He stepped forward cautiously and tried to avoid the stares of the Elves. "I must look odd," he said quietly to himself as he absentmindedly pushed his flaming red hair behind an ear. He walked until he was at the large wooden doors and got the attention of an Elf that was leaving the building.
"Excuse me. Could you tell me what this building is?" he asked slowly in hopes that the Elf could understand.
"It is a...temple, you call it." The Elf stumbled slightly on the foreign words.
"Hantanyel," Kiarton said with his usual bad pronunciation. He opened a door and stepped inside. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen. The room was painted a dark color, but glowing candles filled it with a strange light. In the center, there was a pool, surrounded by lapis tiles, and from its depths, Kiarton could swear he heard voices. He drew closer and peered inside. The water was calm and black. But when Kiarton started to turn away, disappointed, the water began to move and swirl in circles. It changed from black to red and red to a dark blue, and then it turned white. He stared at it and was stepping back when a figure, made of water it seemed, rose out of the pool.
"Mother?" he stammered, shocked and scared.
"Kiarton." The water figure whispered. Her voice sounded strange, like the ocean hitting a cliff. "Stay with Hirraneth. It is your duty and my wish. She is just as alone as you were when I left." Her face seemed to take on a sad expression.
"What..? What is this magic? You are dead!" Kiarton blurted out and a single tear ran down his face.
"No more questions. Return to your friends. I love you." Her voice grew faint and she began to seep back into the water.
"Mother, don't go!" Kiarton reached into the water but it turned black once more. Kiarton fell to his knees. "My duty? This is impossible." His voice echoed through the room and then all was silent.