The king's foil helped a bunch. Aragorn wrapped my eyes and forehead with some bandages after he applied the herb. I asked him how was feeling and he said he was much better than before. Although he didn't have a whole lot of energy.

After a few days of rest, I felt well enough to practice my kata.

While Aragorn was still resting, I picked up my swords and walked far enough away from the camp so I could practice in peace.

I stood in silence for a moment. Listening to the world around me. The gentle sway of grass in the wind, the call of a distant eagle, and the grazing of Weasel nearby.

I withdrew my swords.

My dance began slow, rhythmic. Like water. My stances were firm and strong yet smooth and agile. I wasn't very strong but I was fast and nimble. Sometimes those qualities balanced out a fight.

If I was fast, I was lethal.

A little tornado of blades!

As I went through the motions from stance to stance, I got a good picture of my surroundings. From the vibrations, I saw a lone tree amongst the field we were camped in and a few boulders. Nothing too imposing or interesting.

The outlines of these objects painted a black and white picture in my head. The only white being the thin tracings of them.

With my senses tuned in completely to all of Middle Earth, I felt Aragorn waking from his place on the ground.

I continued my kata.

Soon, he was standing off to the side, watching me.

"Good morning Estel," I said, moving into a defensive, firm position with both swords pointed in front of me.

"...good morning," he replied, stepping closer, "that fighting style. I have never seen it before…"

I finished my special dance and stood poised while breathing heavily.

"No...my family developed it," I told him, it was true. I had spent hours with my father training with the sword. At the time I had learned only with one but during my time with the Elves, I had adapted the style into a two-bladed technique.

Now I preferred two swords.

"What is it called?" Aragorn asked.

"Phantom Wind."

I had always thought that was a ridiculous name. To cliche.

"If I may ask, how do you fight when…"

"Do you know how many times I get asked that question?"

"Oh, I meant not to offend you-"

He was cut off by my quiet chuckling and the growing smile on my face. This boy, always quick to right his wrongs.

"No, it is alright. I will tell you on the way to Lothlorien."

I turned to walk over to Weasel and get him saddled with Aragorn close behind me. He had to sit down in the grass to recover some of his strength.

"Have you always been...you know…"

"No, I was blinded when I was seventeen."

"...illness?"

I cinched the saddle tightly before answering.

"No…"

"Then, if I may ask, what happened?"

"Long story short, I fell off a cliff into a river and bashed my head on a rock. That's when the lights went out."

He didn't ask any more about that, which I was grateful for.

I didn't like to think about that day...

We mounted Weasel and set off again towards the Elven kingdom. I asked Aragorn if he recognized the trail we were taking through Rohan, to which he replied with a positive answer.

Sure enough, after a few hours, Aragorn pointed out the giant forest in the distance. It was within a day's ride ahead.

"If you want to know how I can fight without my eyes, you should ask the tree queen when we get there."

"Lady Galadriel?"

"Yes, she came to me in a dream and gifted me an ability that helps me see." I reached down and touched Weasel's neck. Immediately, the outlines of objects became more detailed in my mind's eye.

"When I come into contact with the ground, it sends me an image in my head of my surroundings. I can't see colors, just the shapes of things."

"That is...incredible."

"Yep, not to mention my hearing, and my sense of smell. When the body loses one sense, it makes the others make up for it. I can hear better than most Elves and smell how bad you need a bath."

"Thank you for that commentary," he said flatly while I just laughed.

"Shyra, you said that you had been blind for fifty years but…"

I zoned out while he was speaking, trying to focus on the new vibrations I was picking up. Something large was coming. Or...multiple things moving in a group toward us?

Horses?

No...they were too light…

Dogs?

I pulled Weasel to a stop.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked.

I didn't answer, I threw my leg over Weasel's neck and slid off. When my feet touched the ground, I could feel an entire hoard coming in our direction.

Wargs.

"Shyra?"

"Estel, I want you to ride Weasel to Lothlorien and don't look back."

"What? Why?"

"I believe that Nazgûl told his friends about us," I tilted my head up to him, "they are coming for you."

Aragorn fell silent for a moment, looking out towards the direction the hoard was coming from.

"I am not leaving you."

"Don't argue with me, you are far more important than me and Weasel won't go as fast with both of us on him."

"No. Let me-"

"Aragorn we have no time for this! Do as I say or else so help me I will bash your head in to make you go!"

He started and I realized that I had just said his real name.

That hoard was getting closer.

"Look, I'm sorry I can't answer all your questions right now, but you need to go."

"I can fight."

"No!" I snapped, "I forbid you to fight! You're under my protection, let me do my job!"

He couldn't think of a comeback to this, so I motioned for him to lean down so I could whisper something to him.

When his head drew near, I grabbed the back of his neck.

"Long live the king."

Then I slammed my fist against the vagus nerve of his neck and rendered him unconscious. His body slumped and I hastily situated him on Weasel's back. I tied the heir to the saddle tightly so he wouldn't fall off before walking up to Weasel's head.

"Alright boy, I need you to take care of him. Go to Lothlorien. Lothlorien." I patted his muzzle before smacking his hindquarters to send him away.

The little pony began to gallop towards the forest in the distance with Aragorn on his back. I listened to him go until he was out of my line of hearing.

Then I turned to face my enemies.