Once Anna and Pippin were in view of the son and father, Anna left the hobbit with them. She sneaked her way, half-consciously, to the balcony where she and Pippin had seen Faramir and the coming army. It was pure black now with only hints of movement and a horizon.

She stopped paying attention to the laden moans of Denethor above her or the battering ram's mouth of fire below. Every creature seemed to be silent and moving at a high speed, as fast as the wind blowing her hair back from her face. The wind! It was coming from the south with a taste of the sea upon it. It was a chance of change.

Beyond all was Mordor, a name and a myth, much like herself. Long had the realm of Mordor been nothing more than a childhood name of evil and now, as legends walked the earth by the name of Anna and Aragorn, so had the broiling of Mordor come out of its lands to show its reality and terror to those born to see such times.

Now, straight in front of her, somewhere within that land, Orodruin, the volcano of Mordor, was belching this Shadow that now encroached upon Gondor. Up it rose from its cone creating a pillar to the great blackness that was the ceiling that covered the sun.

In so many ways, Anna wished she was everywhere at once. Something told her she was supposed to be here but then another voice, an ever-shrinking voice, told her she should have stayed with Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. Though now they were probably headed to the Paths of the Dead as she had heard Gandalf and Pippin discuss, to what purpose, she could not guess. She would not be able to handle that adventure. She had not ever traveled back to the Downs, her past home that had now become a ghost-infested graveyard. She never went there for fear of those ghosts and yet those ghosts she had once known. The Paths of the Dead contained spirits she could never counteract in physicality or in emotions.

But they were far from there by now, she was sure. Where they were, only the Maiars knew, along with the whereabouts of Frodo and Sam. She should be with them, she thought, keeping them safe. With her thoughts bent on them, she realized they must be under that shadow somewhere, without an ounce of light, for it was growing dark now.

It was fairly into the night that the battle continued. Beneath her, the sounds of clashing metal, screeches from the Nazgul and screams were dimmed and the air around her was silent. A breath or chant escaped from her lips:
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.

A last, tear-strewn look into the clouds above and then she shut her eyes. Those people needed her, every people, in every corner of the land. Even the scream from the Nazgul could not sway her realization.

'Dear Maiar,' she prayed, though not truly knowing the complete meaning these words would conjure,
'Make me an instrument of you peace.
Where there is doubt let me sow faith,
Where there is despair, hope,
Where there is sadness, joy,
And where there is darkness, light.'

She opened her eyes, but Anna did not see. Anna was gone, and Ilmare was already seeking the Lidless Eye out. Finally, their minds met as each looked out upon the battle, and Sauron laughed. He knew the Maiar could not directly attack him and saw Ilmare's power being wasted. She fought off the horrible images of the war-strewn world, the black paintings of hope lost. She wanted to show him that a shadow can only cover the constant light of the sun and stars. She wanted him to know that his magic was but illusionary at best and her magic was among the stars, never to be harmed and never to be touched.

A lightning bolt shattered the clouds with its light. Through the hole it had pierced in the clouds, a star shone. It was the star that Sam caught a sight of alt he way in Mordor. The star that renewed his hope and set straight that he was fighting for a tomorrow, maybe not for himself, but for the little hobbits, way out in the Shire.

Just on the horizon the dawn showed itself and flashed on the shields of Rohan. In they rode, down the hill, into the Mordor army, in all the glory of a new-born sun.

Soon enough, the battle would continue, the oliphaunts would stomp out recklessly, and the sun would rise above the shadow, providing no more light for the soldiers, dead and alive.

Ilmare continued her fight with Sauron's show of power. The tenuous and ongoing fight seemed to go by in a flash though hours may have passed, for battle of the mind cannot always be as interesting as those of the ground. Only two are involved in the former where many lives will fall with great and horrid stories attached to each in the latter. But many of these lives were relying on Ilmare.

Finally, the clouds broke and darkness was exchanged with light. Lo and behold where this light hit but on phantom ships riding down the Anduin. Gondorians and Rohirrim made retreats to the city on seeing the black sails but Ilmare laughed, not loud and clear, but quiet and to herself, much as Anna had done in the confines of her disguising branches in Hollin or any other forest.

She laughed because as the light shone and broadened, it enveloped the ships and the standard broke, displayed in the wind. A banner of Gondor's white Tree heralded the Men and together, from opposite fronts, Gondorians, Rohirrim and the Fighting Dead ran straight into their enemies.