Hey guys, So I know the first few chapters were kinda boring. I apologise for that. It was kind of my way of explaining the situation. I will work on keeping the chapters more fast-paced. Hope you like it!
Isolde rested by the white tree of Gondor, overlooking the vast land below. It was early in the morning and a harsh, cold wind whipped her hair into her face. It had been five days since the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan left for battle, and with them, her best friend. She thought back to the day they left, how she had helped him bridle his horse.
"I wish I could go with you," She murmured, stroking the horse's mane lightly. He mounted the dark brown stallion and tenderly caught her hand in his mid-stroke. She looked up to him, noticing how much stronger he looked in his armor.
"I take a great deal of comfort in knowing that you are safe here. I would never want you in harm's way," he gently replied, leaning down to look her more clearly in the eyes. Isolde smiled lightly, knowing that every word was true. She reached up and cupped his smooth face in her hands. Her face grew stern.
"You come back to me, okay? No excuses," He turned his head in towards her palm. He reached up and interlaced his gloved fingers with hers.
"You're right. No excuses," He kissed the top of each hand. The horns of Gondor blasted and Isolde watched as Eldarion took up his place beside his father. Their matching steeds stamped the ground impatiently. She watched as all the soldiers assembled. She watched as they marched off, Faramir at her side, a light hand on her shoulder. She didn't stop watching until the last of the soldiers was finally out of sight.
So there she stood, in the same place she had been 5 days earlier, wishing more than anything that they would return. As the restless winds brushed her dress at her ankles, so too did Isolde grow uneasy. In a sudden, impulsive act, she ran down to the stables and readied a horse. She burst out the stable on a white mare in full gallop, nearly knocking down a nearby horse-keeper. She continued running the horse as fast as she could go until they were deep into the nearest forest. There she stopped the horse by a creek, allowing it to drink before continuing along an old path for some time.
She stopped short when they came across a peculiar sight. In front of her were several dead animals. It was as though all the creatures of the forest in that particular area had suddenly lost the will to live and fell from the trees or the sky. Though, stranger yet, none showed any sign of decay. Though her horse grew anxious and backpedaled, Isolde was curious and led it onward. As she continued, the trees themselves seemed to whither. Isolde's horse gave a nervous whinny and pulled on the reins. Isolde sighed, knowing the mare would go no further. She tied the horse to a tree and continued on foot. She didn't get far before gasping in surprise as she saw the figure of a man lying on the forest floor. She ran to him, recognizing him immediately as one of the local hunters. His face had a look of horror on it. Isolde, finally recognizing the true danger of the place, decided she had had enough adventure for one day and turned to leave.
She ran to her horse and started untying it. As she mounted her horse, a sudden burst of wind whipped the leaves off the tress and whirled them all around. Through the chaos she saw another rider a short distance away. Isolde observed the womanly figure cloaked in black, matching the horse she rode upon. The woman had long straight black hair that covered her face. On her forehead rested a black crown that appeared to be made out of volcanic rock. Set inside it were blood red jewels. The figure raised her pale hand, and the wind died down. Before she lowered it, Isolde noticed a ring that rested on one of her long, boney fingers. It matched her crown, set with its own jewel. The figure slowly raised her head. For the first time, Isolde could look upon the face of the stranger. The face was long and thin, almost skeletal, and the figure's eyes were completely black. Her lips were blood red and drawn into an eerie smile. Isolde grew mildly sick, but simply couldn't look away. She couldn't decide if the woman was old or young, as her face seemed to change ever so slightly when she moved. Finally, Isolde spoke.
"Who are you? Do you know what has happened here?" The figure tilted her head slightly and though her lips never moved, a sharp, hissing voice invaded Isolde's mind.
"I am a stranger and these woods have encountered a dark magic," it replied. Isolde didn't like that the voice spoke in riddles, but pressed on.
"Are you the cause of this dark magic?" She asked weakly.
"I am," It hissed.
"Why did you come here?"
"I am seeking the one who destroyed my king during my 1,000 year slumber. Though, the forests tell me that she too, perished while I slept," The figure stared at her intently. "And who are you, young one?" Isolde, having grown uncomfortable, decided it would be best if she kept her identity a secret.
"I am Celandine, daughter of Ilberic. He is a carpenter of Gondor." Isolde replied.
"Ignorant child, you think I cannot tell when you are lying? Don't you know power when you see it? I am Aglaramarth, Queen of the Nine!" The figure suddenly smiled, exposing her sharp teeth through bloodied gums. "And you are Isolde, heir of Eowyn, and therefore, my prey," At this, Isolde kicked her horse and fled from the sorceress. The terrible wind picked up again and they sky darkened. Isolde's head flew left and right wildly, looking for her attacker. Rain pelted Isolde and the unforgiving wind blinded her as the witch conjured up a heavy storm. Isolde knew her only hope was to keep running.