Ruination

Estarfin sat with his back resting against the holly tree as he wrote feverishly. The quill was almost a blur as it scratched almost illegible Tengwar script onto the pale parchment. His face was in shadow under the bright moonlight as he had pulled his hood to cover his hair and wrapped his thick black cloak about himself. Occasionally he paused and re-read the words that he had written, a look of confusion upon his face as he quickly crossed out whole sections of the text. He would then stare at one of the others, waiting for them to look at him before looking away quickly. As the fire began to burn low, he finally laid down the small quill that he was using and read through the final version of what he had written that night.

The day was fading when we departed Echad Eregion, another crumbling ruin jutting from the empty and dead lands surrounding it. Small comfort was to be found there, and I am not sorry to have left it behind. Another useless delay in the land that I have grown to hate. Danel spoke words to me there by starlight, but what they were I cannot now recall, I can feel only anger and rejection when I try to remember, when I try to see through the fog that has descended upon me. Belegos was not there, had he gone ahead to scout the mountain? Did he not depart from us before for that very purpose, or am I losing the truth of these things? I think perhaps he has abandoned us, and has left us to our own grim fates. Perhaps he laughed as he walked away, knowing that we would all perish long before we reached Dol Guldur.

Belegos has gone ahead, and we are waiting for his return. Rainith looked strangely at me when I asked where he was, as though she thought I should already know the answer. It is strange, but I find myself missing him, as though it has been years since I have seen him, although she insists it has been days at most. We all left Echad Eregion together in the light of the morning Sun, Belegos leading the way as we rode past Lake Helevorn. It felt good to ride across the green plains of Thargelion, as though from a dream. We rode at a moderate pace; we were eager to get to Barad Eithel of course to see our estranged cousins, but it was a long and dangerous road that we were to face, so we did not tire the horses.

No, my mind has wandered again. We rode from Echad

We set out from Echad Eregion on foot, Danel leading the way and striding through the heavy rain. I had pulled my cloak tight about myself, but was soon cold, wet and growing increasingly miserable. There was no sign of the Sun to be seen through the thick clouds, and the grey skies lent the land an even more mournful air. The mountains rose ahead of us, the peaks invisible above the thick blanket of rain clouds. All were quiet as we marched through the mud, Danel never looking back as she strode along ahead of us, Parnard and Rainith trudging along behind her. I marvelled to see Rainith walk through the cold mud and even across sharp rocks with her bare feet without once looking down, or showing any sign of pain or discomfort. Elloen, an unexpected and unneeded guest followed, his fine robe becoming increasingly bedraggled and mud splattered as he followed. Why is he here? Does Lord Anglachelm wish for him to report back what we are doing? Belegos walked beside me, smiling and telling me stories of the glory days of Eregion.

The ruin stuck from the sheer wall of the valley like a hideous growth, a skeleton of a fortress left to bleach and crack in the sun. Minas Elendur, that is the name that she gave it, a name that I do not think I will ever be able to forget. It was not a sad reminder of better days as every other ruin had been, there was no air of faded grandeur, of forgotten joy about it. Of course it must once have been fair beyond the imagination of mortals, crafted with the skilled and patient hands of the Noldor who had dwelt there. But now… I would not approach that place, not as the others did. There was something in the air, something that could barely be heard over the sounds of the heavy rain hitting the wet earth. Thankfully, Danel soon led the others on, and I began to follow when I heard the music a little louder. The music was beautiful, although at the edge of hearing there were discordant notes, as though one of the hidden musicians played a different song. I found myself drawn towards the ruin, my sense of curiosity overriding any sense of caution that I felt. As I drew closer to the ruined courtyard, my boots began to crunch upon the shards of glass that littered the floor from the windows long gone. Weeds grew between the rubble, dark fingers reaching from the earth to grasp and pull the marble, glass and copper back beneath the soil. The air was completely still, no breeze to disturb the strange peace of the empty courtyard. The rain had ceased to fall as I took my first step onto the white flagstones; the only sound left to me was the music. I could hear singing, beautiful voices singing songs that I had not heard since my youth. A smile came to my face, and I looked around for the singers. My eyes were caught by the huge doors, an entranceway into what was clearly a much larger building than I had initially realised. The smile fell from my face as I took a step towards the doors, the discordant notes returning and sounding louder with each step that I took. I thought to turn back, to re-join my companions, but why? Why return to those that hate and fear me when everything that I sought lay beyond those great doors. The jarring notes became louder, sounding almost like screams of pain and loss. Open the doors, and go inside, I thought to myself. Abandon the hopeless quest and those that would betray me. Go inside and find the singer. As I halted before the doors, I thought I heard, far off, someone calling my name. It is coming from inside, I thought to myself. I should go and find them inside. Inside. Inside. Inside. Inside. Inside. Inside.

It had halls of great beauty, now corrupted utterly. There was a sound of fair singing in the air, but with something, some hidden meaning, flowing through the music. Something remains there, a shadow of a deeper shade of black in the darkness, a terrible guardian of fear and regrets. I saw the faces in the darkness, the rivers of blood that ran through the halls that could not quench the fires that burnt there.

The doors swung open with the merest touch of my hand, and suddenly the wind and rain began again, the air strangely hot against my skin. My eyes widened as I saw the drops of blood upon my hand, and I was horrified as I saw that it was raining blood, covering me and everything around me in a thick coat of gore. I knew with a sickening feeling inside me that it was the blood of my kin, slain by my own accursed spear. There was no music in the air now, and from the pitch darkness in front of me radiated only waves of hatred and malice. Awful screams sounded from all around me, some distant, some so close that I could feel the breath upon my skin. Terrible scenes flashed before my eyes, horrors of my own past, and some that were entirely new to me. A dark-haired Elf, face covered in his own blood, screaming in pain and hatred as the blades and whips descended again and again. Broken and twisted bodies lying piled in dark, forgotten halls. Figures stumbling through the Havens as fire consumed them. Death, betrayal, pain, hate, despair. The world shrank until there was no other path to escape the madness but forwards, and to hope that the eternal darkness could extinguish all. I began to take the first step when I felt something touch my shoulder. Knowing that He had come, I closed my eyes and waited, unable to look upon that terrible visage of fear. I heard my name, and waited for the horror to end, or to begin.

Parnard shook my shoulder again, calling my name. I turned, but for long seconds I did not recognise his face. There was no blood upon him, and none on the floor. Looking down at my gauntlets I saw beads of water running over the black metal, but nothing more. He spoke, I think, but what he said I could not tell you. He gestured for me to follow, and so I did. Silence had fallen again, save for the sound of the rain and the wind blowing mournfully through the ruins. I hurried after Parnard, unsure of what I had seen. As I stepped from the last of the stone flagstones, I heard the music in the air again, calling me back to that terrible place.

Why did we come here, was there no other path that we could have taken? The long dark of Moria, perilous though it may be would now be my choice. The others watch me, mistrust within their eyes, perhaps thinking that I have lost my mind. Even now as I write this by the faint light of the fire I feel it as they glance at me, adjusting their weapons as if preparing to strike. And so I sit here and breathe slowly, no longer flinching at each fresh scream of pain and despair, no longer trying to turn my head from every image of the broken and the dying, terrible wounds allowing their life-blood to flow from them in rivers. There is blood on my hands, but I do not know if it is real or not. I think we killed a group of orcs, although there is no blood upon my spear. Did I gouge at them with my hands, as an animal would? I do not know what is happening, all that I know is that the others cannot be allowed to know, I must keep the truth of this to myself. I just wish that Belegos was here, where has he gone? I will ask Rainith, perhaps she will know.