Chapter 23:

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Faylen... Faylen.... I know what you were truly trained to become," a harsh voice says. "Let me tell you that you will not be successful. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, I will find you."

"Who are you?" I ask, though I think I know the answer.

A figure wearing sharp, steel armor walks through flames and towards me, a mighty, towering helmet on their head and a golden ring band surrounding a large finger. I back up from the approaching figure but find a wall of rock behind me and the fire only growing closer as it licks at my ankles.

"The Dark Lord," I whisper, fear overtaking me.

"Do you not realize what the Valar truly wants you to become? What you were made to become?"

I was always told that I had some kind of destiny to fulfill but I always thought that was what I was already doing. I don't understand.

Sauron and the fire disappear and I am suddenly standing on a battlefield, horses and bodies lying all around. In the distance is the towering city of Minas Tirith, burning slowly to the ground. I look around me to find I am the only one standing.

"This is your future, Faylen. Everything you have known and hold dear will be taken from you," Sauron's voice says from somewhere.

I look down to find a familiar sword in my hand before it catches on fire and burns my hand, something that has never happened. I drop it and when it hits the ground it shatters. It makes me notice the bodies in front of me. I cry out and stumble back when seeing Aragorn, my love Legolas, Gimli, and even Éomer and Éowyn all dead and bloody.

"Losing them will be all your fault. They will cry out to you but no matter what you do, you cannot come to their aid. You however will not be able to die, not when I make you accept your gift of immortality and use your gifts for my own purpose."

I am transported back to the flames with the Dark Lord standing in front of me. I clench my jaw.

"I will never help you. I would rather die," I shout back.

A cackling laugh sounds as the flames lick my skin, slowly beginning to burn my flesh.

"I have my ways to prevent that. So does someone else," Sauron says and turns to reveal someone standing behind him.

I cringe in fear, wishing I had my sword at my side, anything!

"Hello Faylen," a familiar yet haunting voice says.

"You will not be able to defeat your worst fears," Sauron says as he and my father laugh together.

My father holds out his hand, and without touching me, lifts me off my feet and I go flying into the air. Barad-dur looms before me as I am slowly drawn up to the top. I struggle, knowing what is to come, but can't move. The Great Eye suddenly stares at me, looking into my very soul, and I scream.

"Faylen! Faylen!"

I shoot up in bed, almost knocking someone next to me in the head. I am shaking and frantically look around me, gripping the sheets and taking in my surroundings. I whip around and almost lash out at the person holding onto me, but stop when I see it is just Aragorn. I can feel tears streaming down my face and my eyes wide with fear.

"You're okay," he says softly. "You're okay."

I bury my head in my brother's chest, crying against him as he speaks soothing words to me and holds me tight. Finally I am able to control myself and pull back.

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