(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 25: Lastborn's Wrath

"Akesh! Akesh!" The foremost Easterling exclaimed as he rushed forward, halberd raised high. Gerithor took a resolute step forward, his sword in front of him in a defensive stance. Gilian fitted an arrow to her bowstring, taking careful aim at the charging warrior. Her arrow flew true, hitting the Easterling in the neck and causing him to recoil back into his comrades. One of them gave a shout of rage while another pushed the dead Easterling to the side, intent only on reaching the two rangers.

Gilian quickly dropped her bow and drew her sword, taking her place at Gerithor's side. The two rangers moved as one as they met the onslaught of their enemies, their quick flurries overwhelming the Easterlings and driving them back down the corridor. The hardened warriors gave little ground however, refusing to run and only giving ground when it was advantageous to them.

Gerithor was quickly growing tired, and knew that it was only a matter of time before he had lost too much blood. The pain from the wound in his side was growing worse, and it was all he could do just to ignore it.

Suddenly, the Easterlings turned and fled as one, as if by some unheard command. Soon, the two rangers stood alone once more, and all that could be heard was the echo of their heavy breathing through the dark halls. Gerithor lowered his sword, turning to face Gilian with an expression that betrayed his confusion.

"Why would they retreat so suddenly? They had the advantage," He said, scratching his beard perplexedly.

Gilian shook her head, waiting a moment to catch her breath before she spoke. "Whatever the reason, I can't imagine it bodes well for us."

As if on cue, a loud crash sounded from further down the hall. Gerithor immediately took a protective step in front of Gilian, sword raised once more. A cloud of dust rushed down the corridor, likely the result of something heavy falling onto little-used paths.

The two rangers waited, unsure of what had happened. To the surprise and terror of them both, two bright orange lights shone through the dust... Like the fiery, hateful eyes of some malevolent spirit.

When the dust cleared, it became apparent that that was exactly what they were. A tall figure materialized, clad in black armor with a blood red cloak that swirled about him like a being of its own. Demonic horns adorned his helmet, and his eyes did indeed appear to be made of fire. They reminded Gerithor of the eyes of his now-dead nemesis, Arnakhor, and that alone filled him with fear.

"You do not know me, Lastborn... But I have certainly heard of you. 'Hero of the North'... Yes, your name has traveled far. And indeed, it is warranted. Singlehandedly defeating Arnakhor, the mightiest Black Numenorean to serve my lord in this era."

"Who are you??" Gerithor asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide the fear in his voice.

"I am he who came out of the fire unscathed. I arose from the field of corpses. I am the storm that will engulf the West. I am Khanar, King of the East." These last words, though clearly intended to be boastful, were spoken with a frightening lack of emotion of any sort that made the hairs on the back of Gerithor's neck stand up.

"But you were defeated... Even I know this." He had heard the stories. About how Rukil, the rebellious Easterling prince, had slain Khanar in a great battle in the east.

Khanar took a rasping breath, taking an unnatural, jerking step forward. "You do not know the might of my master... He found me. In the withered, corpse-filled desert where I had perished he came to me, and took me to his stronghold. There, he himself put new life into me. Wretched, dark life. But it was life nonetheless. I was reborn, a King both terrible and mighty who, with new life, was given new purpose. The East was given into my hand, and with it the power to crush all who would oppose me. My master prophesied that I would bring war to the West, and that blood and burning would follow in my wake. And so here we stand, Ranger. You, the Defender of the West. And I, the Destruction of the West. Are you ready to die?"