The End of an Era
It had been several weeks since leaving for Rohan without as much as a word, or a trace. His house near Bree was filled with dust in the shape of furniture, and the plants within his yard were withering. All for one; the simbelmynë flowers still stood in a small vase in his study, next to his bookstand upon which rested a book, an unfinished project speaking of his past and the last entry talking of the other Lady Flat-Chest from his youth, fair-skinned and bearing fiery red hair, only matched by her fiery personality. Something had occurred to him while he was writing about her, and it never did sit right with him that he did not know what happened to her.
He stopped by the house she used to live in, in the hope to find her there and if not, her parents, and ask them where she was. Though upon arriving on the farm, there was no house. No men and women working the fields, no grain rising from the fertile ground, not a soul in sight. It worried him. He dismounted and led his horse amidst the ashes before stepping into what used to be a building. No leads could be found. Only several scattered bones, and a few skulls. It hadn't been recent. He decided to go back to Bree with the same route he always traveled.
Just as had happened so many years ago with Lady Flat-Chest he was tackled off his horse and landed on his back. This time it wasn't her straddling him though, but a large, bulky man with an axe. Ardeghon moved his head to the side to dodge the blow of the axe. He punched the man on the jaw once while his axe hit the dirt, before reaching beneath his gauntlet, removing a sharp, long throwing pick from under it and stabbing it into the man's throat, piercing a vital vein, causing the man to lose his strength. The Poet freed himself of the weight and rose up to his feet, though soon after an arrow scrapes past him and pierces his leather shoulder guard, causing a deep cut in his left shoulder. Turning around he saw another man taking another arrow from his quiver. Ardeghon quickly reached for the back of his belt and took another throwing pick, aiming it before flinging it at the man. It was a hopeless effort. Three men jumped down from the ridge soon after, weapons in hand. Poor quality steel, and even worse armor. Though his left shoulder was in pain, he drew both swords against three opponents and charged towards them since he had to keep moving or he'd be shot by the archer. The first one to meet him was a cloth-clad man with a rusty sword, raising it above his head and swinging it down towards Ardeghon, whom raised his Elven sword and blocked it while still high in the air, still moving forward and sliding the sword along the length of the man's weapon, sparks emanating from it as the Poet's sword jumped from the steel and buried itself in the man's neck, tracing around the side as Ardeghon steps past the dying man while driving the tip of his other sword towards one of the others, though it is knocked up by the man's sword. Soon after the Elven sword appears again and hacks deep into the man's abdomen as two other men run up, along with a hooded figure slowly walking towards the scene, watching. Ardeghon lets go of the Elven sword and as he turns towards the last of the three whom carries a spear, the tip of the spear pierces his leg. He shouts out in pain, and swings the sword in his right hand down towards the wooden shaft of the spear, breaking it, the man staggering back as his weapon is now useless. Ardeghon, with effort, removes the remainder of the spear from his leg and jumps towards the man, driving it through his eye before dropping onto one knee, exhausted and groaning in pain, looking over his shoulder as the other two approach. He looks at the bloodstain on his leg, chuckling softly. The sword slips from his hand and he hears the two men getting close with his back turned to them. As they get close enough he reaches for his dagger and spins himself around, the dagger burying into one of the men's chests as Ardeghon staggers up, preparing to face the other man.
A whistle is heard through the air, then the ripping of leather, and another cry of pain as an arrow buries into Ardeghon's chest, the blow pushing him back a little and dropping him onto his back. Widening his eyes and gasping for breath he stares up at the sun shimmering through the leaves above them. An ending like this.. Heh, it's good no one's around. They'd laugh at the sorry state I'm in. His smile turns into a saddened looks, strands of sweaty, dirty hair draped across his face. Though this isn't what I want.. The other man charging at him had come close to finish him off, though Ardeghon grasps the hilt of his sword and drives it through the man's heart, the sword remaining stuck. The archer had come closer aswell and Ardeghon reached for his throwing picks one last time, taking three of them, each separated by a finger. He flings them at the lightly-armored archer, two of them piercing vital organs and the last one sticking into the shoulder. "Just die." Ardeghon said as he dropped down on his back again I knew this would come, but even so... He reached out with his hand, reaching for the sky, seeing an image of Hyrien, Hardoleth, Drause, Neyaa, Caitie, Taala, Blince, Fiontann, Valindal, Threland, Sefa, everyone he had ever met and held dear. Even so... He feels tears streaming down his cheeks. I wish I'd spent more time with everyone. His thoughts pass onto thinking of the first Lady Flat-Chest and the red hair he loved so much. I wonder if you're alive.. I'll find out soon.
He drops his hand back to the ground, muttering, "I was never right for the hero type of role." Then there was a flash of red, and then darkness.
