Deep In The Shadows ➳ Lord of the Rings ➳

Chapter V

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Narylfiel

Taking a deep breath she stuck out her palm. Trying to control her nerves wasn't easy. She'd done this a million times, yet everytime she sucked in fire, she could feel all the dark, painful memories.

It was draining her. Her thoughts grew darker by the day. She couldn't sleep. The darkness that consumed her in the day was always multiplied by ten at night. A haunting memory can not be so easily erased. A cold thought that makes one's skin crawl with bitterness and fear can not be so easily pushed aside.

The job they had south against those pirates really struck fear into her heart.

_________

"You... you're the cursed elf.. the spawn of that witch-king!" The mercenary yelled at her as he charged at her. She had just slain some of his men as their bodies crumbled in half as smoke rose from them. Burnt flesh was making its way around the mountain of dead bodies she collected. He dare call her a spawn of that evil witch. Who did he think of himself. What did he know. She held a firmer grip on her sword as he edged closer to her, ready to strike. As soon as he was in arm's length, she grabbed his hand and secured it behind his back. One knee placed into him as she made him fall to his knees. With her other hand, she twisted her blade and quickly secured it across his throat. But she wasn't done. She began to channel her power into his flesh and his eyes turned a bright red from her blade and touch. Her powers are limitless. She was doing this to him. 

Merciless and cold blooded was Narylfiel. She never shown hesitation to her adversaries. They would all fail to secure her death. But she won that fight long ago when she escaped her torture.

"Call me the spawn of that Devil one more time... and I will make sure your kind becomes extinct." She spat as her sword began to brand his neck. His eyes shown horror beyond the redness of his irises. 

He began to tremble with rage and spat into her face. 

THUD.

His head came clean off as she sliced her sword into his neck and decapitated him without a second thought. The horror of her actions petrify her but it was her job.  She hated the filth of these evil bastards because she felt like filth.

________

She shook her head. This was not the moment to think of this. She was contemplating to not finish her job as it was becoming difficult for her to use her power. But it was their home. Shaking away any negative thoughts, she saw her hand begin to glow. It glowed red and soon fire began to arouse in her veins. Suddenly, her vision blurred ... but then quickly returned. She thought she was swaying around, not able to control her feet, but she was perfectly upright and still.

"It's too much," she whispered to herself. "I'm using my powers too often."

The nausea began to overwhelm her. Never should an immortal being such as an elf experience this. Closing her eyes, she tried to catch her breath. Slow and painful they were.

It was done. The flames were gone.

They sat there for a while, thinking, taking it all in. Narylfiel then turned to look at the other warriors with a dazed expression. "It is safe now," she nodded. "The fire is gone, mellon nin."

And with a dizzy head, she turned to talk to her brother, only to find him no longer there. Realising Alerathla was gone too, she guessed that they must've gone together. The only thing that remained was their sacks from their horses (who were wandering and roaming the ground for hay). She approached her friend throughout the years: Fáy. He had a dark golden coat and a silky black mane, but the highlight of his beauty were his honey-amber eyes.

Naryl felt a grin crawl across her cheeks despite her exhaustion. Stroking his long hair to calm him (and mostly herself), she slid onto his strong back. She clicked her tongue and Fáy trotted towards the forest. Narylfiel mouthed an "I'll be back" to the others, and she was off.

***

Narylfiel breathed in the fresh forest air. She and Fáy had walked to a valley where a river had split the terrain in two. It was a bit strange to call it a river; it was more of a windy creek. The sun was falling asleep on the horizon and the trees grew quiet. The grass was still and glowed gold in the fading light. This was her place of relaxation. A place to gather her thoughts.

Her feet travelled lightly and swiftly to the creek. There she sat down and watched the clear crystal run with ease over the brown rocks. It was calm, but filled energy and memories both good and bad. Energy. That thought made her stare at her hands.

Earlier, Narylfiel was reminded. Remind of the torture. The pain. The despair.

Ever since she was locked up in the Witch-king of Angmar's prison, tortured to become an orc, or a witch-servant. She had terrible dreams of late and dark thoughts. She realised that the evil magic within fire had affected her more than all the burns and cuts. That dark fire ran through her veins. It was a part of her. There was no way to get rid of it.

No way to control it.

Naryfiel shook her head. "No," she answered her thoughts out loud. "I can control it."

She thought of what a lady once told her.

"Just because you have that dark energy coursing through your body does not mean you can't change it. It took bravery and courage not to let yourself fall into the darkness. But if you were able to withstand that torture for the ages that you did, you can do the same with this."

The old lady took her hands in hers and said,"Fire is not evil. Fire is life. Not a malice or a peril."

Fire is life. Fire is you. Naryfiel tried to swat away her thoughts. "That's not what she meant," she whispered. You were made for one purpose. To destroy. "No."

Naryfiel tried to think of the other things the lady had said.

"You must find the incentive to change that. Fire can be good, but it can be evil: it depends on what you choose. You are the key to controlling that energy. Do not let darkness fall upon you. Do not let power corrupt you. It will only become more dangerous, and you cannot be weak. You must awaken a new part of yourself within. The part that knows how to control it. It's in their somewhere."

Narylfiel closed her hands into a fist. Long had it been since she saw the old woman who told her that. Did she listen to her? For a while, yes, but as the evil grew, it nagged on her mind. There was something terrible coming. It would happen soon. Her dreams were very detailed. It haunts her every waking moment.

Even though she carried terrible fear of what may yet be to come... she had to have hope somehow. Middle Earth needed to survive. So Narylfiel planned to fight back.