Thendryt…
He sat there, in the middle of the cell. The stench of death filled his nostrils.
Morson…
He couldn’t see. The cell was dark, and the lights dim.
Whoreson!
Myrith appeared, as out of thin air, right in front of him. Torches lit up instantly.
Thendryt retreated instantly towards the wall. He had difficulty crawling, falling over the corpses that littered the floor. He saw their faces. Faorie, Lilleduil, Nelnardis, Adanmiel, Caleniel, Osilivren and other Elves who were beyond recognition.
Thendryt felt panic creeping up on him as he struggled to rise from the carnage.
Myrith smiled. The same, wide, smile he always had. The black Númenórean walked forward, more shade than Man.
Beautiful, isn’t it Morson?
“I burned you alive.”
Oooh. You didn’t actually think you’d be rid of me that easily?
Four more shades appeared behind Myrith. Thendryt remembered all of them painfully well.
Who did you think talks to you in the night? Hm? Morssson, we claimed you. You belong to all of us.
Suddenly, the floor started burning. Green and orange flames consumed him, as he screamed.
Don’t tell me you forgot what we did with you? For you?
The bodies all around him started to melt, until only blood and floating faces remained.
Thendryt looked around. Screaming, yet unable to make a sound. In pain, yet numb.
He looked up. Myrith was standing knee-deep in blood, and beside him stood Bovad. Thendryt leaped up but the four shades forced him back down on his knees. One grabbed his hair and pulled his head up.
You will never be rid of us Thendryt.
Myrith unsheathed a blade. The blade went effortlessly through the horse’s neck, as a hot knife through butter. The horse made no sound, just looked at Thendryt. Thendryt screamed as the horse’s head fell into the blood.
The shades dropped him.
There’s nothing you can do. You’re hopeless, Man. Soon enough, you will lose your will to fight, and you will succumb. We will have our way, Thendryt.
Thendryt was floating. He felt hollow. Alone. Fear, despair and desperation festered at the back of his mind.
Myrith’s face appeared in front of him. He saw the face change shape, slowly. Until it wasn’t Myrith e saw, but himself.
There is nothing you can do, because we are part of you.
He shook his head.
Such Weakness…
Thendryt sat up in the bed. He was sweaty beyond belief, and shaking uncontrollably. His white knuckles slowly released the dagger he kept next to his bed. He tried to wipe the tears with shacking hands. Blood ran down his left arm.
He slowly dressed himself in a simple shirt and trousers, and made his way out the door.
The night was cold, and it took him several minutes before the stables came into view. There were no Elves about, at least from what he could see.
The stables were also empty.
Thendryt picked up a blanket from a bench, and went into Bovad’s box. He lied down next the horse, shacking and bleeding. Bovad put his head over him and Thendryt tried to fall back to sleep.
Weakness…
