They crept upstairs where there were many beds laid out and shelves against the walls stocked with various herbs and medicinal liquids. Eliriael spent much of her time here watching her mother tend to the injured. “Eli,” her mother whispered, giving a sad smile. She kneeled down to her daughter’s level and hugged her in a tight embrace, speaking softly. “Hide beneath this bed and do not come out until I say or all is silent outside. You must make your way to the Hidden Passage at all costs, do you understand?”
Eliriael nodded, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. She had not realized that she had been crying as they ran through the city. Her mother looked at her intently and added, “You must promise to go…even without me.” Eliriael shook her head. Why would she need to go without her mother?
“Eli, you must not disobey me.” Her mother’s voice was stern, in a way that Eliriael had never heard before. There was no request this time in her mother’s words, and so Eliriael did not answer.
As her mother bent down under a bed to pull aside baskets, she looked out the window. The night continued to be marred with screams and loud noises, and the ground beneath the building shook with the force of explosions. “Eli, quickly now.” Her mother gestured under the bed, where she had made room enough to fit her if she lay down with her limbs tucked in around her. As she crawled under the bed, she watched her mother slide the baskets of supplies back in front of her. Elrinarë’s last expression was a smile before the basket slid into place and Eliriael saw no more of her mother.
Unable to see anything, her hearing grew acute, taking in every slight noise. The sound of chaos seemed further in the distance now that she was under the bed, and the noise outside seemed to have passed. She listened to her mother’s measured breathing as she waited silently under the bed. Labored minutes seem to pass and then she heard her mother stand and move away from the bed. “Stay here until I return Eli,” she whispered.
As her mother’s footsteps faded, Eliriael’s body tensed with every step her mother took towards potential danger. Her fear seemed to grow in her chest and beat painfully against her own heart. She strained to hear any sound, but she could only hear muffled echoes of the distant battles in the city.
A sudden clang pierced her consciousness, the sound of heavy metal hitting the stoned path outside. A scuffle of footsteps followed, unintelligible coarse voices, then a singular note that rang clearly, “Elirië!”
Her mother’s voice awakened her into motion, melting the muscles and limbs that had been strained and tense with fear. She pushed the baskets aside and crawled from beneath the bed, rushing towards the staircase. But before she reached the steps, she stumbled as the building shook beneath her and the floor gave away beneath her feet.
She smelled the smoke before she saw the flames running up the staircase, devouring the wooden railing and steps. It traveled fast, fueled by the medicinal liquids from the jars that had fallen onto the ground with the explosion. She retreated back again into the room, not knowing what to do except to shout for help.
The moment she opened her mouth and took a breath to cry for help, the smoke arising from the fire assaulted her. Her eyes watered and she coughed, choking out a few pleas for help, until she could shout no longer. The flames approached her and forced her to crawl onto the bed against the furthest wall. She had nowhere else to go and the heat grew unbearable against her skin. Eliriael curled herself into the bed, pressing her face down on the sheets to block out the smoke, which was stifling her senses.
Her vision faded as the bright red glow of the fire seemed to disappear behind an encroaching shadow on the edge of her periphery. The world closed in darkness before it lurched away as the bed seemed to fall away beneath her. The heat of fire reached its height, just about to melt her skin, before it tapered away into a gust of streaming hot air. For many minutes, she stayed crouching as if on air, flying through the current of the fire’s warm breath. Perhaps this was how it felt to be carried off to the Halls of Mandos…though she wished the fire and heat could have been left behind.
As soon as she wished it, crisp air surrounded her and enveloped her skin as if she had been plunged into cold water on a summer’s day. Moments later, the ground emerged beneath her feet and she stood upright.
She had arrived.
