Chapter 23

Evelyn coughed as the lingering smoke filled her throat and spilled into her lungs. The smell of burning homes and flesh stung her nostrils, causing her to tie fabric around the lower part of her face. The stench remained unbearable. She did her best to keep her eyes on Lindir's back, avoiding the destroyed homes and markets of the town they passed through. She knew bodies littered the ground as the horses picked through the debris, but she refused to look. Evelyn was scared if she saw the horror around her she would flee. Anger too, though, bubbled at her core. The evil that was behind this destruction had to be stopped. The fires still burned, even the sand burned unnaturally. Swallowing hard, she steeled herself, knowing she was the answer to the riddle.

'thwank,'

Evelyn felt the air swoosh by her face as the noise sounded, she pulled Granat to a halt, as the other did the same. Lindir rode up to her side, "The enemy is here."

"Aye, that arrow came quite close to my face." She replied, sounding much calmer that she felt. Internally she wanted to puke.

"We cannot see them in the smoke, we are sitting targets for them," as he spoke another arrow whizzed past and embedded itself into a building, "and they toy with us."

Evelyn looked at the ellon beside her, his face was the picture of a calm and seasoned warrior, but in his eyes, she could see his fear as well. "Ready the elves for battle, I will handle the fire."

Linder gazed at Evelyn, curiosity in his eyes, but he nodded and spoke to the elves, "Weapons at ready! Prepare for battle!" As his words ended, Evelyn lifted her arm, the scaling of her armor jingling lightly. Waving it slightly around her head she flicked her wrist, icy tendrils shooting forth into the fire, extinguishing it. Surprised shrieks could be heard coming from the buildings and alley ways around them. Orcs…and men. With no fuel, the smoke slowly started rising and dissipating into the air around them, in its aftermath, the enemy stood, surrounding them.

The warriors of Rivendell wasted no time, they used the enemies surprise to their advantage, sweeping down upon them. The enemy, however, recovered quickly and soon the clang of metal and the cries of falling men echoed around her. Evelyn kept to the middle of the circle the elves had formed around her, facing the foes on all sides. She kept her eyes trained on Lindir, watching as he cut through the orcs and Haradrim from his steed, red and black blood coating the once shiny coat of his horse and his pale face.

Then an orc made it through their ranks, stopping as it eyed the woman before it. Granat pranced in place, tossing his head in fear of the creature before him. The monster sneered, showing its black and rotting teeth. Evelyn pulled her sword from its sheath, swinging the white stallion around. She kicked Granat forward, he hesitated for only a moment before charging the hideous beast before him. As she neared, she pushed her power into the swords, the bird at the hilt and the blade shimmering in ice as it elongated, slicing through the orc's neck. A guttural growl sounded behind her, causing Evelyn to whip around. A man of Harad stood before her, his dark skin barely clothed and black and gold paint decorating his face and torso. Swallowing the bile in her throat, she turned Granat to face the new threat, this time the stallion needed no encouragement, he charged the man. Evelyn went for his neck, missing as the man swung away, the sword slicing through his arm instead. But it was enough, from the wound the ice spread up his body from the laceration. Soon he was a frozen embodiment of the man he used to be.

And so, the battle went, as an enemy or two slipped through, Evelyn disposed of them. She did not let her mind wander to those she cut down, did not let her eyes see them. If she looked at the men long enough, saw them as people, she was not sure she could kill them. If she did not kill them, they would kill her and the elves who fought with her. She would deal with the guilt later. Now, now she had to stay alive.

Then it was quiet. Gone were the screams of war and the slash of swords, the battle cries. Evelyn looked around her, bodies lay pilled at Granat's feet, the stallion's hooves sunk in puddles of blood. Leaning over, she puked.

"How do you fare?" A gentle voice spoke beside her.

She sat up, wiping her mouth, to see Lindir before her once more. His face, like all the others, smeared with blood and dirt, his eyes still feral from battle.

"Never better," She replied, knowing he knew she lied. It did not matter that she felt anything but fine. That she felt like she was losing a bit of soul with every person she killed. It did not matter that she wanted to run from the carnage around her and the slaughter that lie ahead. No, what mattered was her survival and reaching King Aragorn and the others.

Lindir nodded, not pushing for more information, if what the woman said was true, they needed to find the Gondor army. He saw the way the fires burned on the sand with no fuel but the air around them. He saw how easily her powers extinguished those unholy flames.

Slowly the silence started to be interrupted, moans and wails began filling its space as the wounded began crying out. Lindir's voice rose out among the aftermath, "Find our wounded, kill all the others."

"I will tend to our wounded." Evelyn spoke up, the ellon tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Dismounting from her horse's back she found a building mostly cleared of debris and bodies and directed the soldiers carrying the wounded to it. They had been lucky, only three elves had fallen to the enemy, and only a handful received serious injury requiring a bit more than a simple bandage. As Evelyn made her way through the soldiers, using her ice to cauterize where needed, Lindir lead the others to bury their fallen comrades, singing laments as they went. Evelyn's heart broke at the sound of their voices. She wished to join in, but knew not the words. She pushed her mind back to her task, lingering on the grief would only slow her down.

Within the hour, they were on the move again, galloping away from the town. They left a wall of dust in their wake. They rode hard until dusk began to settle around them. Letting the horses walk and cool down, scouts where sent ahead to search for a place to camp. However, no shelter was to be had for many miles. Camp would be made in the open sand once again.

Evelyn leaned against her pack, her eyes gazing at the twinkling stars above them. She focused on their ethereal beauty and majesty. When that was not enough to keep her mind occupied, she counted them, an impossible feat, but it kept her mind from other things.

"You should take rest while you can."

Evelyn jumped in surprise, cursing herself for letting her guard down. Had it been the enemy, she would be dead. She scowled at Lindir, noting the humor in his eyes.

"Rest will not find me in this place."

"Drink this." He replied, pushing a small vile of blue liquid toward her.

Evelyn looked at the ground, pushing the sand with her toes. "I will not find rest in my dreams." She was scared to dream. Now that she back in war and carnage, she feared what sleep would bring. The battle had awakened memories longed repressed in her mind. She saw the Rohirric man she killed, the faces of all those who died under her powers for the Easterling army. She cringed in revulsion at herself. The dead faces of those she killed today were added to the others. They tormented her.

Lindir sighed, knowing well the horrors war brought, even more so for those with guilt on their conscious. "You will have no dreams tonight, I assure you." He wrapped her fingers around the vial. He stood from his kneeling position, "This may be the last time you will have a good rest. The others will need you at your best…we all will."

Evelyn let out a defeated sigh and nodded her consent, starring at the liquid. Opening the bottle, she closed her eyes bringing the glass to her lips. Letting the substance glide down her throat, she swallowed the tonic, trying not to spit it out. It was bitter and burned going down. Evelyn tossed the now empty vial to Lindir, "A warning would have been nice."

"Ah, but then you would have never taken it."

"Hmph," Evelyn countered, nestling down into her packs, letting her eyes close once more as she felt the lull of sleep tugging at her mind, beckoning her with their soft tendrils. Relaxing, she fell into a deep sleep, not waking until Lindir shook her shoulders as dawn approached on the eastern sky.

As noon approached, a line of dark smoke could be seen on the horizon, the riders halted, taking in the sight, still too far away for their eyes to see beyond the line or their hearing to pick up any sound. Lindir called forth his fastest riders.

"Ride ahead, I want to know what we are riding into. Get only close enough to get a visual, if the enemy is waiting, I do not want you seen."

"Aye sir," they agreed, pushing their steeds into a gallop.

"We will continue to travel forth, we cannot afford delay." Lindir commanded and they all moved forward into a slow canter.

"What do you believe we face?" Evelyn asked, matching his pace.

Lindir looked at the woman good and long, sighing before he replied, "I believe we ride to another battle. One that is much larger than our own. We are well into Haradrim territory."

Evelyn only nodded, falling silent at what lay ahead.

In two hours, they had their answer.

"It is the King, my lord, fighting a great host." He paused her to catch his breath, "There is fire, fire everywhere," he finished.

"How far?" Lindir boomed, worry for the Gondorian king and his kinsmen blooming.

"An hour, no more."

Lindir looked to the woman who rode beside him, determination and fear clear in her eyes. From her look, he knew she wanted to ride to their aide, despite their weariness. He also knew, she would follow any decision he made. He pulled ahead and addressed the group.

"Warriors of Rivendell, friends of old. We rode forth for the aide of our King and kinsman as they fight a new threat to Middle Earth. We have not come all this way for our people to be left to torment and death at the hands of our enemies. Today we ride to fight the tides of evil!" His voiced carried through the air on the slight breeze, filling their ears and their souls with purpose. The responded with cries of war and swords drawn in the air. Lindir, sheathing his sword, spun his bay stallion around, galloping across the sand, towards the battle that awaited them on the horizon.

True to the scout's words, in thirty minutes they were close enough to hear the steel clashing against one another and the screams of the fallen. Within forty-five minutes the stench of blood assaulted their nose and then they halted upon the ridge.

Down the hill, Aragorn fought with his men against a great host. Evelyn could see the number of Haradrim and orcs outnumbered them, they were working to encircle them in the town, bodies from all sides lay scattered on the ground, the earth a lake a blood. Lindir ordered the men as Evelyn continued to stare at the battle before her. She tried in vain to spot her friends in the carnage, but it was no use.

"Evelyn," Lindir called her name, pulling her attention away from the scene. She raised her eyes to meet his own. The older elf grabbed her hand. There were many things she had done in her old life and here on Middle Earth, but riding into battle was not one of them, she was terrified. It was one thing to be set upon and have to fight for your life, it was another to willingly run head long at your foe, knowing you could potentially die, that your death was very probable. Lindir knew well the fear she faced, had felt it himself, still felt it today. "Think of your friends fighting down there, you do this for them. We ride to save them." He squeezed her hand.

Evelyn nodded, gulping and turning back to face the onslaught. Before she could change her mind, Lindir charge and Granat shot out after him without encouragement. From the other bank the rest of their force charge, Trapping the enemy between them.

They did not hear them in time, the force of Rivendell swept down upon the enemy, cutting them down from behind. Evelyn hardly had time to process what was occurring around her. All she knew was that anything that grabbed at her, she sliced with her sword and shot with ice from her hand. It was all a blur until a voice rang out in her ear. "THE FIRE!"

Startled, she brought her sword up, prepared to kill another foe, when her eyes met his. Lindir, her mind slowly registered. Lowering the weapon, the words finally processed. The fire was spreading, licking at the Gondorian and Rivendell forces, their enemy remained untouched. She did not understand this devilry. "Aye, I've got it." She replied, though she had no clue where to start.

Evelyn took in her surroundings, trusting Granat to keep her from the orcs and Haradrim. There was no clear point at which the fire started, but it spread from everywhere, already she could feel its heat upon her face. Finally, her eyes found its target, to her left there was still an opening between the blazes, and she kicked the dirty stallion towards it. The horse's nostrils flared, his eyes rolling white as they approached and his head held high attempting to rise above the smoke. He skidded to a halt, sending sparks into the air, neighing in fear.

"Easy, my friend. Trust me." She spoke in Elvish as she began working against the flames. Painstakingly slow, Evelyn could see progress. The gap was widening, allowing the smoke to clear, and giving their friends not only an escape but clear vision to fight back against the enemy.

But it also allowed the adversary to see her. Orcs swarmed her, breaking her concentration, and letting the fire begin its path back around the others. Granat reared, knocking a Harad soldier in the head, his body hit the ground and he did not move again. Preparing to take them on, she gave a startled gasp as arrows suddenly protruded from their chest. They meet their companion in death as the dust rose around them. Evelyn jerked around.

"Focus on that fire, we shall cover you." The elf spoke, eyes surveying their proximity. Evelyn did not recognize him but accepted his offer with a nod, turning Granat back towards the flames. She focused al her energy on the ice she wove, weaving it through the base of the fire, extinguishing it with a hiss. As she pushed the flames back, they fought back, working to spread around her ice. However, it was no match for her. While she was here feeding her ice, whoever started the fire, started it and left it to its own devices.

Exhausted. That is what she was as the last of the fire around the army died. She trembled on Granat's back. Evelyn looked around her, keeping her eyes to the horizon. At first, she did not see what she sought, but then a shadow caught her eye. There on a distant he stood. Though he was no more than a silhouette, the woman knew he was looking at her. Evelyn could feel it. She starred back. A hand raised in the air just to be dropped hurriedly back to his side. As soon as the motion ended, the fire in the building sprang forth. Horses and men alike shrieked in terror and pain. Evelyn shielded her face from the onslaught, but still felt the flame lick her cheek, she could feel the skin blistering. Granat rearing, turning on his haunches to flee. Somehow, she was able to grab a rein and pull him in a circle, though he was still able to move forward to some degree.

"HALT!" she commanded in elvish, catching the stallion's attention. He stood, feet splayed wide, sides heaving.

Evelyn drew her power around her, felt the cyclone of the storm around her. Closing her eyes, she pictured the buildings and flames around them, then let go. She pushed the power towards in. The power left her, but it also took what little energy she had left. Evelyn sagged on Granat's neck, weakly rubbing the horse in praise. The only thing keeping her awake was her pride. She really did not want to face her friend's wrath if they found her unconscious after she deliberately disobeyed orders. Her eyes drifted back to the hill. The figure was gone, and the remaining orcs and Haradrim were fleeing to follow.

Vaguely, the world around her came back. The sounds of battle gone, but the cries of the aftermath were only starting. She heard movement behind her, she knew someone approached her. A sigh escaped her, oh she just wanted to collapse. Lindir would surely understand.

"Evelyn."

Her body tensed, her spine straightening instantly, for it was not Lindir's voice who spoke behind her. Granat wheeled around at her change in body language, almost unseating her. Her gaze wandered over those before her, Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn. But her eyes locked on the elf in front of them, the one who called her. Legolas.