Shredders of Destinies

31: Twilight of the Elvenkind

Outskirt of Rhovanion - Mirkwood, 2941 TA, July 4

Three days into their journey, the oppressive quietude of Mirkwood was suddenly shattered. Legolas, who had been leading with his usual silent vigilance, stiffened. His keen elven senses had picked up something – a disturbance that was out of place in the stillness of the forest. Xena, attuned to his reactions, readied herself, her hand instinctively moving to her chakram.

They had barely taken a few steps when a guttural snarl ripped through the air, shattering the silence. From the dense underbrush, a group of orcs emerged, their crude armor clanking discordantly as they moved with a clumsy yet menacing gait. Their snarls and growls filled the air, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that had preceded their arrival.

Legolas nocked an arrow to his bow with fluid grace, his movements a dance of deadly precision. Xena, gripping her chakram tightly, stood back-to-back with the elf, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of additional threats.

The orcs, driven by their lust for blood and battle, charged. Legolas released his first arrow, finding its mark in the lead orc's eye. It fell, but the others surged forward undeterred. Xena unleashed her chakram, which whirled through the air, slicing through the thick air of Mirkwood and striking an orc in the throat before returning to her hand.

The battle erupted into chaos. Legolas moved with an elven swiftness, dispatching orcs with a lethal accuracy that was both beautiful and terrifying. Xena fought with the ferocity and skill that had earned her the title of Warrior Princess. Her chakram flew with deadly precision, while her sword skills kept the orcs at bay.

Despite their prowess, the orcs managed to land a few blows. Xena grunted as a clumsy yet powerful strike from an orc's blade grazed her arm, drawing blood. Legolas, too, sustained a minor injury, a shallow cut across his forearm, but it did nothing to slow his deadly dance of arrows.

The skirmish was over as swiftly as it had begun. The orcs lay defeated, their lifeless bodies a testament to the skill of their opponents. Breathing heavily, Legolas and Xena surveyed the aftermath, ensuring no further threats lurked in the shadows.

With a nod of understanding, they tended to each other's wounds, their actions efficient and practiced. Legolas's touch was gentle as he applied a healing salve to Xena's cut, his eyes betraying a hint of concern. Xena, in turn, bandaged Legolas's arm with a grim determination, her respect for the elf's prowess deepening.

As they continued their journey, the encounter with the orcs served as a grim reminder of the dangers that lay within Mirkwood. The forest was not just a place of shadows and whispers; it was a realm where the threat of violence was ever-present. But for Legolas and Xena, it was another obstacle overcome, another step closer to the heart of the forest and the answers that awaited them.

The dense canopy of Mirkwood seemed to swallow them whole, its oppressive gloom thickening with each step they took deeper into the forest. Xena's voice cut through the heavy air, her tone laced with a hint of unease. "Legolas," she called out. The elf paused, his posture tense, as he turned slightly to acknowledge her. "I think we're running in circles, are we lost?"

Legolas' sharp gaze scanned their immediate surroundings, a growing sense of disquiet mirrored in his eyes. Indeed, the gnarled trees, their bark festering with dark rot, had become a familiar sight, a grim echo of their path repeated.

Without a word, he steered Arodil, his steed, towards a cluster of trees that seemed less touched by decay. Xena followed suit, guiding Swiftwind to a relatively safer spot under the twisted boughs. The forest around them was a maze of shadows, the light struggling to pierce through the thick foliage above.