The Lastborn: A Middle Earth Story(Book 1)(EDITING)

Chapter 25: Charadrius

That night, Gerithor had another dream, similar to the one he had before... Only this time, instead of Aragorn being crowned he saw a tall dark armored shape holding a Ring, standing in a fiery mountain. He saw the white city from the previous dream burning. Black Numenoreans pillaged the Shire, and subjugated the halflings. All this he saw in a flash. At the end, instead of seeing Eldahir die, his friend was nowhere in sight. He was atop the tower alone and Arnakhor was holding him in the air. "You are the last of your kind, pathetic ranger. Die now, as befits the last of a fallen race." Gerithor felt a sharp pain as Arnakhor's sword pierced his chest, and everything began to fade. Before he woke, he heard a woman speaking; it was more in his mind than an actual voice. Sacrifices must be made... You must choose wisely. The fate of Middle Earth rests on your decisions. For not everyone can be saved from death.
He awoke in the morning drenched in sweat. He looked around the cave and saw that his companions were all still asleep. He went over to the stream and washed the sweat from his hair and face, and went out to the mouth of the cave.
He stood there, watching the sun rise slowly over the Misty Mountains and into the cold, crisp sky. The chill breeze felt good on his face. He thought about his dream.
Was he being presented with a choice? The first dream showed Aragorn crowned king, whereas the second showed something completely different. But the first dream also showed his best friend dying. He remembered what the voice had said: "Sacrifices must be made... You must choose wisely. The fate of Middle Earth rests on your decisions. For not everyone can be saved from death." Were these two different outcomes? Sacrifice Eldahir but save Middle Earth, or sacrifice himself to save Eldahir but see Middle Earth fall? He didn't want to make either choice if it came down to it. Perhaps he was misunderstanding the dream. Maybe it was just a dream, nothing more. Perhaps he would be presented with a third option.
He tried to push the dilemma from his mind. He would worry about it when the time came. There was no point in stressing himself now. It was time to set out again.
He went into the cave and awoke Eldahir,
"Time to go," he said as he shook him lightly. "Go wake Sarina up." He didn't want to wake her himself, he still felt terrible about what had happened the night before.
He moved over to Kalan and shook him. The dwarf growled at him as he rolled over.
"I was just having a lovely dream about roast beef lad, why'd ya have to wake me?"
Under normal circumstances Gerithor would have laughed, but the events of the previous night left him feeling drained and sick. "It's time to go," he said simply.
The dwarf pulled himself onto his feet and shook his head, mumbling about roast beef. Gerithor turned and saw that Sarina was watching him. She averted her gaze when he looked at her, which made him feel even worse. His stomach was in knots now.
Fortunately Kalan seemed to notice and took charge.
"Alright everyone, let's get a move on! We want to get through this forsaken kine's rear of a place as fast as we can!" With that the dwarf jogged out of the cave. Gerithor waited for Eldahir and Sarina to pass. Eldahir smiled as he passed. Sarina lowered her eyes and didn't acknowledge Gerithor's presence. He winced, and followed them out of the cave.
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They ran all day, Kalan in the lead, with Eldahir and Sarina close behind. Gerithor was a short distance back from them, feeling the need to be alone.
Eldahir eventually noticed this and purposely lagged behind to where Gerithor was.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Eldahir looked at Gerithor in concern.
"It's nothing, friend." Gerithor didn't want to explain what had happened.
"I've known you your whole life, I can tell when something's bothering you. And right now something is really bothering you," Eldahir pressed.
"Sarina and I... Had a disagreement last night." Gerithor said, not sure what to tell Eldahir.
"She loves you, doesn't she?" Eldahir said knowingly.
Gerithor turned to him with surprise. "How did you know?"
Eldahir laughed. "It's pretty obvious. She always looks at you like that."
Gerithor felt a pang of sorrow, and decided to tell Eldahir everything.
"She told me last night, and I turned her away. I know deep down that it was the right choice, but right now I don't see it. She won't even look at me. We need to work as a team right now more than anything, and now it will be difficult, if not impossible..." Gerithor trailed off.
"You loved her too, didn't you?" Eldahir's eyebrows furrowed and he wore a sorrowful look. Gerithor looked down, and after a moment, he nodded his head slightly.
"I'm so sorry Gerithor, I didn't know. I feel terrible now." Eldahir put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Gerithor looked up at him.
"It's not your fault. I made my own choice. She deserves better than me."
"What are you talking about? She couldn't hope to find a better man than you," Eldahir patted his friend's back encouragingly.
"I'm a wanderer. I've never felt like I belonged anywhere. I could never settle down, start a family. I don't belong." Gerithor looked at Eldahir with a haunted look in his eyes.
"Neither do I then. We're both Rangers."
"You're different Eldahir. You've always had a home. You've always been content where you are. And that's good." Gerithor smiled weakly at his friend.
"You've been through a lot Gerithor. Maybe someday you'll find rest." Eldahir returned the smile. "I'll leave you alone now."
"Thank you for checking on me my friend," Gerithor said.
"If you ever need to talk, let me know." Eldahir said, then turned and ran back to Sarina and Kalan.
They continued on. At around midday Gerithor got that strange feeling that they were being watched again. Once he turned around and swore he saw a white shape dodge behind a distant rock. But nothing ever approached them or made itself known to the small group.
They went until dusk. By then they were most of the way through the Ettenmoors. Gerithor felt more and more uneasy, and by now he was sure they were being followed. He sped up until he was beside Kalan.
"Something's wrong," Gerithor whispered.
"Aye, I haven't had anyone to talk to all day, that's what's wrong! You've been moping way back there all day!" He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.
"I'm serious Kalan. I think we're being followed."
Kalan lowered his voice. "Who do ya think it is?"
"I'm not sure," Gerithor admitted. "I didn't really see much of it. It was pale though. Perhaps it's an Orc scout. Either way it bids ill for us."
"Aye, you're right. What should we do?" Kalan looked up at Gerithor, eyes narrowed in thought.
"We can't sneak up on it in the wastes like this. We'll wait until we reach the woods at the edge of the Ettenmoors, then we'll try to catch it." Gerithor said after some deliberation.
"Sounds like a solid plan. Hopefully it doesn't make a move tonight," Kalan said as they both decided to set up camp.
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Eldahir was on watch when it struck. Gerithor awoke to the sound of cries from outside his small tent. He grabbed his sword and rushed out of the tent.
Right in front of him was Charadrius. The monster was more terrifying than the legends, much more. It's small, humanlike head turned to face Gerithor. It had huge bloodshot eyes, and long sharp teeth that stuck out of its mouth unevenly. It was sitting on its haunches, hovering over an unconscious Eldahir. Blood dripped from one of its hands, which had long, razer sharp claws protruding from the fingers. It let out a screech when it saw Gerithor and lunged toward him with blinding speed. The young ranger had no time to react as Charadrius tackled him to the ground and pinned him down with inhuman strength, knocking the sword from his hand. It's bloodshot eyes fell on the ring on Gerithor's hand.
"Mine!!!" It hissed in a deep voice as it reached for it. Gerithor rolled over and pulled his dagger out. Charadrius clawed the ground where he had been a second before and screeched. Gerithor swung around and slashed with his dagger, barely missing the creature as it dodged out of the way.
  Suddenly Charadrius recoiled backwards as a hammer made contact with the side of its head. Kalan swung the hammer again and the monster narrowly dodged it. Gerithor took advantage of the momentary distraction and grabbed his sword.
  By now Sarina had moved to attack the beast as well. The three companions surrounded it as it growled, foaming at the mouth and snapping at them.
   "If you still understand me, leave! We have no quarrel with you!" Gerithor said as he mustered his courage.
   "Miiinne..." The creature hissed and pointed a long clawed finger at the ring on Gerithor's hand. Gerithor narrowed his eyes.
   "You can't have it." He raised his sword. Suddenly, without regard to injury, the monster lunged at Gerithor with an enraged hiss. It screeched as it landed on Gerithor's sword and jerked back, wrenching the sword from the ranger's grasp.
   Charadrius recovered and immediately attacked Gerithor again, the sword still in its side. Gerithor fell onto his back as he tried to dodge an attack. The beast jumped on top of him, and was about to slash with its razor sharp claws when a sword pierced through its neck. It let out a gurgling hiss as it fell forward. Sarina pulled the sword from its neck and struck again, and Charadrius collapsed to the ground. It shuddered and then went still.
   Gerithor looked wide eyed at the beast, then Sarina. Sarina immediately turned away and ran over to Eldahir. Kalan helped Gerithor up and the two of them wen to Eldahir's side as well.
   He had a deep slash across his chest and was unconscious. Gerithor knelt down next to him and put a hand on his forehead.
   "I need Athelas and Lissuin, now!" He cried. Sarina and Kalan looked at him in confusion. He looked up and rolled his eyes.
  "Athelas has small white flowers, Lissuin had blood red. Get me the leaves from them!" Kalan and Sarina ran into the wilds, looking for the flowers. Gerithor propped Eldahir up on a rock and cleaned the wound with water from his canteen.
   Sarina returned first.
   "I found some," she said as she gave Gerithor a handful of plants, not looking him in the eyes. Gerithor sighed and looked over the plants.
   "Aye this here is Athelas, it'll do just nicely! I still need the Lissuin though." He tried to smile at her and threw the other plants she had collected aside, only keeping the Athelas. She didn't return the smile but went back into the darkness.
   She returned with Kalan some time later. Kalan was completely soaked with water but he triumphantly held up a plant.
   "I had to swim across a river to get to it, but here ya are lad!" He handed the flowers to Gerithor. Under normal circumstances Gerithor would have joked and said Kalan had gotten the wrong plant, but he was too worried about Eldahir to joke. He mashed the two plants together in a bowl until they were a pulp. Then he pulled Eldahir's shirt away from the wound and applied the poultice. When he was finished he leaned back against another rock.
   "What'll those plants do?" Kalan asked curiously.
   "Athelas has great healing properties that have been forgotten by all but my people. The Lissuin will draw out any poison from the wound. I wanted to make sure, that creature could've had anything on its claws." He looked with disgust at the dead beast.
    "I thought it was just a legend. Apparently I was wrong," Gerithor said as he looked at his ring.
   "Aye, ya were. But don't blame yourself, even if we had known it existed we wouldn't have known it was going to attack tonight." Kalan put a hand on Gerithor's shoulder.
   "My friend nearly died. He wouldn't have if he didn't come with me on this fools errand." With that Gerithor got up and strode from the camp.