Chapter 5
Devils and Dust
S.A 534
The dust rose in the hot dry air. On the horizon, black specs of orcs began appearing. Elarinya turned back into her tent, letting the canvas swish behind her. Her tan breeches already on and her cream under tunic, she made to pull on the light but resilient chain mail. Very little could pierce the mail that cover her arms and torso, fitting her like a glove. Over top she pulled on her tunic of light tan, covering the mail so it would not rub against her outer armor, masking most of her sound. Reaching for her bracers, she fastened each to her wrist, tightening them to fit securely up to elbows. The chest piece she pulled expertly over her held, buckling it up the side. Only a small window of her neck visible from the top as it extended to cover the small of her back. On the spaulders sat the emblem of Dorwinion, the crescent moon, in remembrance of their origin in starlight. She strapped her sword to her hip, her bow on her back, and her twin blades alongside her quiver. With a sigh, she exited her tent once more. Standing in line she waited her turn for the paint.
She dipped her fingers in the cool liquid kohl, running a line from her forehead down her nose, lips, and chin, only stopping when her fingers touch the edge of her armor. The red, she drew three diagonal lines from her left brow to her hairline and from her right cheek across her face to her ear. With the mix of color left on her fingers she darkened her eyes and strode to the front lines where her warriors cheered, heaving weapons in the air, shouting their battle cries. Without a word, Elarinya pulled herself atop her mount.
The dark dapple grey mare prance under her. The tassels adorning her breast plate bouncing, the gold threads amongst the black glittering in the sun. From her bridle, black fabric stretched down her neck, covered with silver and gold crescent moons. The same trailed down her flanks from the back of the saddle.
The women and men behind her mounted their own steeds. Their princess' voice broke through the hoard of voice, silencing them all, "We fight to defend our home, whatever the cost! We shall fight on the deserts, we shall fight in the vineyards and on the shores! We shall never surrender, a thousand battles and a thousand victories!" Their cries went up and they surge forward behind their leader.
They crashed into the enemy, scattering their lines. Shrills whinnies escaped the horses that fell, screams of elves and orcs alike filled the air in a horrid song of pain and death. Elarinya heard none of the cries as she met foe after foe, cutting each orc down as the came at her. Hot black blood squirted her in the face, its bitter taste filling her mouth with the flavor of death. The viscous liquid dripped from her armor. On and on she fought, ignoring the sting of a blade in her thigh, her blood mixing with that of the enemy. Then no other blade found her own, she staggered.
Around her she glimpsed her warriors gathering to her, and those of the other commanders finding their leaders. They were close to issuing their cry of victory, when a lone horn sounded over the dunes. A line of Easterlings emerging, their gold armor glinting in the sun, she swore under her breath. "Reform the ranks!" She called as did Veryan, Faelon, and Daermaethor. Whistling, her mare came running, covered in black blood. Those whose steeds lived, mounted. Elarinya paused, bending down over the hewn body of an orc. Sticking her hand in his vile blood, she made a handprint across her face, she would give these puppets of Sauron something to fear.
The man circled her, taunting her. He made to lunge left, but she caught the tensing of right side. Feigning to right, she quickly spun on her heels, bringing her sword around, it caught in his left side as he swung to the right. The Easterling grunted and stumbled forward as her sword pulled free, spraying red blood across the tainted sand. It was a lethal blow, but his death would come slowly. His bowels perforated, his death would come from infection and shock in the coming hours, or she could show him mercy. Elarinya starred into his dark brown eyes, so dark they could be black. She watched the pain flash across them, the knowledge of his slow death to come. The sword in her hand hung limply at her side. The man's eyes furrowed taking in her hesitation, expecting mercy. Bending down, she looked from his face to his wound and back. She saw the faces of her dead comrades, the innocent dead of her people as Aelion fell to the War of Wrath. Gritting her teeth, she stood and strode away from her enemy, his howl of fury and fear filling her mind. She kept walking, never turning back. It was a desert of dust and devils.
She startled from the bed, panting and heaving, drenched in a cold sweat. The owl beside her hooting in annoyance at being disturbed. Cursing, she let her bare feet hit the cold stone floor, waking her completely from the nightmares that still worked to claim her mind. Every night since that last battle, she dreamt of the Easterling. She dreamed of his agonized face, the fear laced in his eyes, always waking to the sound of his screams as she left him to hours of torment. Bending over, she rubbed her hands across her face. When had she become so ruthless? When had she lost her mercy, her morals? She was no better than the orcs and Easterlings she killed on the battlefield. She should have been better.
Walking slowly, she stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze caressing her face.
"There is a storm brewing in my soul.
Thunder explodes and lightning flashes.
The rains come
Drops followed by torrents
my soul crying
My heart weeping
What is it I long for?
The tears are a deluge
I am drowning
What have I become?"
Her voice quivered as the last words slipping off her tongue.
Ocean waves crashed upon rocky ocean cliffs. Gulls called overhead, adding to the music of the sea. Black hair whipped across an angular face filled with grief and misery, head tilted back against the onslaught of salty mist. His ears listened to the music created by his tormentor and his haven. Slowly another sound broke through. A voice sailed on the wind mixing with the gulls moaning call. A woman sang, her voice low and soft, hauntingly beautiful and desolate. Spinning he looked beyond the cliffs, down the rocky stretches of beach, and over the crashing waves. He was alone. He was alone, but the voice, it remained the words echoing in his mind, words so close to those that haunted his heart, mind, and soul. Whose voice sang to his soul? Whom could feel such torment as he? Closing his eyes Maglor let the song caress his bruised and batter soul, taking solace he was not alone.
A resolve took root in her heart as she rushed back into her room as the sun peaked over the distant hills, casting the first rays of light over the city. She grabbed her well-worn pack, stuffing it with only the essentials. Elarinya was not sure to where she traveled or for how long she would be gone, but she knew she could no longer stay here. To stay her was for her to lose what was left of her soul. Her days and nights had been spent with killing and war for longer than she could remember. Her soul was weary and breaking. To stay here would turn her into the monsters she fought to protect Dorwinion, after two thousand years, she could take no more of the war and death.
Soft rasps at her door caught her attention and she quickly hid the pack behind her bed. Gingerly she made her way to the door, opening it only a crack to see who visited at such an ungodly hour. Her mother's kind green eyes starred back at her, and she opened the door fully, allowing her entrance.
Still in her nightdress, Ennil looked fondly at her daughter, cupping her cheek gently, memorizing all the features to memory. "Have you packed?"
"What?" Elarinya exclaimed, both in confusion and in denial.
"I have grown to know you well over the millennia. I have seen the shadows grow in your soul daughter. I knew after the last battle you would leave." She smiled sadly stroking her thumb over the tanned and freckled skin of her face. "You will not find healing here."
"There is a voice, I hear it in my dreams and in my waking hours, it has haunted me since I came of age. It haunts me but it draws me like a moth to flame. The voice sings of the same blackness I feel claiming my own soul. I see rocky cliffs battered by ocean tides and a figure on the edge, black hair billowing in the sea wind."
Ennil dropped her hand from her cheek, tears brimming in her eyes. "You must travel far my child, to the edge of our world. Travel up the River Running to the giant forest of Rhovanion, and over the Misty Mountains. From there travel northwest through the lands of Arnor. You shall come to Lake Evendim and their surrounding hills you must too cross and come to the base of the Blue Mountains and the River Lune. Here you must turn north and come to the shores of Forochel, here you shall find what you seek."
"How do you know this?" she asked in disbelief.
"I have seen what I must, here is a map to guide you." She handed her a rolled piece of parchment. "Quickly now, you must be off ere the break of day." Leaning forward she placed a kiss on her daughter's head, handing her the sack hidden behind the bed.
Elarinya stumbled as she was shoved to the door. "I love you," she whispered as her door was shut in her face.
"And I you, my child."
As the door clicked shut she turned on her heels and raced to the stables, not able to bear the memories and the pain any longer.
Pulling the dappled mare from her stall, she quietly walked her out of the stables. Mounting the mare bareback and bridle less, she turned her to the road ahead. Hoof beats circled her, catching her off guard and horses blocked her path. She stared wide eyed and mouth agape at those gathered in front of her. Not only where Meldiriel and Ellethwen before her but Veryan her guardian as a child and tutor, and Faelon with Daermaethor close behind.
"What are you doing?" She questioned, attempting to maneuver her horse around them unsuccessfully.
"Coming with you of course," Meldiriel answered with a smile.
"But how did you know?"
"Your mother, she came to us in the night. She is wise our Queen." Ellethwen replied.
"You cannot come with me, as much as I welcome the gesture, I do not plan to return." If her words bothered them, they showed no sign, it was if they had been waiting for this day for years, planning and preparing. Elarinya looked to the ellons, "You especially, Veryan, Faelon, Daermaethor, you are the leaders of the army, you give hope to our people. They will need you, the King shall need you." She could not speak the word father anymore. She could not take others with her, they had roles here, family here, people needed them here more than she.
It was Veryan who spoke up, a sad yet knowing smile upon his face. He nudged his horse next to her own. "My dear, dear Elarinya I have watched you grow from a carefree elfling to a beautiful elleth. I have trained you to be a ruthless warrior. I have watched the shadow grow in your eyes from the day you took mercy on our dying soldiers." He cupped her face, much as her mother had only moments before. "You have been as a daughter to me, you have a beautiful, gentle soul, I will not let this life destroy you."
Tear welled in her eyes that she would not let fall. Veryan had been more of a father to her than her own in recent centuries, they had been through many trials together, she opened her mouth to speak, but Faelon interrupted her, "So, to where are we going?" always up for an adventure.
"To the north western most edge of Middle Earth, to the shores of Forochel," she replied, waiting for their responses. It was one thing to travel from their home, but it was another to cross the entire continent, to journey an unknown distance through strange and mysterious realms. But, as before, no one batted an eye and Elarinya wandered just how much her mother had seen and told her comrades.
"Well then," Daermaethor stated smiling, "We had best get moving."
For the first time since their remembrance festival, she smiled a true genuine smile, feeling the love and friendship radiating from her friends. Without any more words, she kicked the mare forward, the others following behind her and rode out of the city, never looking back. Guilt rose in her belly as Dorwinion's best warriors galloped away, and she sent silent prayers to the Valar to watch over her home and her people. She did not see the lone figure of her father watching their departure from his balcony.
A/N: As always a tumblr post will be added with the pictures I used for inspiration for this chapter by tomorrow. My tumblr account name is my writing name, Aralinn. And, as always, please review let me know your thoughts and ideas!