One more step...
He found himself standing on the ledge of the tall cliffs, surrounding Trestlebridge, he gazed down upon the rushing river below and listened to the thunder of the waterfall. It had become a frequent place of contemplation. The voice of dread still crawled in the back of his mind, tempting him as it had done before.
One more step, it's all it would take.
Shaking his head the man pulled back and turned to make way back up into the hills that waited for him. Alone again he trekked onwards with thoughts drifting, reminding him how foolish he had been to leave Toddir behind but it was not without a reason. The young Bree-lander was not ready for what was ahead and it was better that he remained, that he returned south to be with his loved one. However he could not deny that the man's company would be sorely missed, despite how much the companion loved the sound of his own voice.
The girl, Zaiweyn, had offered to come with him as well but he refused her, he never liked the idea of a woman setting out towards something so dangerous. If she were to fall while under his watch it would be another weight on his shoulders. No, he could not risk it.
As he reached the top of the hill the man halted and turned to view the town from afar and his thoughts went to the pair he had spoken with and come to know, Taala and her husband Eroforth. An interesting pair for sure and spending time in their company reminded him of his younger years when he as well was as cheerful, making uncouth jests and grinning from ear to ear while doing so. He was after all a different man back then.
With what awaited the pair's future he could only hope that they would not see the field of battle, that they would be safe and able to prepare for what life had given them.
He smiled at the thought and nodded to himself, a whisper made to the Valar in hope that his words would be heeded and the troublesome pair watched over in these times.
The man's gaze fell southwards and he could only wonder.
Breaking away from the chain of questions that rose in his mind he turned to continue on his way. He wondered if he would see the town again, if he would see the faces he had met in the past month. While some had been optimistic about such an idea he could not find it, the dread had taken root in his heart and mind; sucking away most of his hope in replace of despair.
The blame fell towards the fields in the north, cursing the reach of the damned that spread their influence and even here he was not safe from them. No, he was not hopeful for what lay ahead for him and each step closer reminded him of his poor choice. This had become a fool's errant. Nonetheless he would try as he had told them, even if it would mean his demise.
He felt a part of him welcome the idea but he had made a promise and one that he intended to keep. As he neared the first camp the words of an old friend echoed within his mind;
Dying is easy, life is hard.
