He could hear and feel the wheezing as he fought to breath, each one causing him to cry out in pain but nothing ever left his lips. He could hear the clattering and fighting around him, the world had grown so much darker, he could barely even see his hand as it reached to clutch his fallen blade. Only to realize, it was but a rock. Knowing now that he had led this company of people who gave him an inkling of trust, and he had not the strength to wield his own blade in their defense.
Baralinion tried calling out, but again nothing left his lips but bubbles of his own blood in a twisted gargle of air that sputtered from his lungs. If felt as if forever had gone by, like time had stood still before some one had reached out and pulled him and began yanking on his body. His eyes peeled open and were almost blinded by a brilliant light that seemed to brighten the very darkness around him. The Young Ranger did not have to guess as to whom this being was, pulling him from what ever surroundings he laid in was. He forced his lips to move, not sure if he was even able to from the words as he mouthed "Galtharian." His mind slipped away into the darkness as he could hear his name called, but could not answer the pleas for him to remain here in this world.
He had never felt such a tangible darkness before as he simply laid in what seemed like the nothingness but as he opened his eyes, he realized it was a forest and he was dreadfully deep in the heart of it. A forest unknown to him, with a presence of evil and pure darkness that seemed to resonate amongst the wilds that gathered here. Her voice was as deep and harsh as the woods that surrounded him, but he could not make out what she said. Her words a garbled mess of guttural sounds and screeches to him as he began to writhe upon the cold grass.
For a moment he was brought back into reality, seeing Galtharian over him once more as the elf peered over his wounds and cried out to the others who had seemed to have finished the fight. He wondered to himself how many had fallen, how many had died because of his incompetence. How many families lost a son, a daughter or something even more. How could even he atone for such a loss. The words The Silvan spoke where not heard on Baralinions ears, as he simply laid limp as Galtharian cradled him in his arms while he slipped back into the recesses of his mind.
This time there was no forest, there was no cold darkenss that wrought about. Instead he stood among golden trees and grass as warm as the sands of Annuminas. There, he was greeted by a smile he had not seen since he was a boy. She was right there. His hands reached out and felt hers and he wrapped his arms around her in a hug before the tears rolled down his cheeks and began to patter onto her dress. Her arms folded over him as she began to stroke his hair.
"Shed no tear, Cynhaer, son of the west. You have risen where others have fallen, you have set upon a path that none can undo. You will walk where the devils fear to even gaze. Just as your brother became my hand, my wrath and my vengeance. You will do the same. Do not tarry here for there is much work to be done. You walk with those who have come before you. The gentle breeze you will feel at your back is the love and support of those whom served the order just as you have. Rise, Cynhaer. Caun of the Order of the Seven. Rise and bring hope and love to those who have none. To those who would harm the innocent and the weak, give them reason to fear the night once more. "
He opened his eyes and mouth as if to say something to her and found himself back in the marshes. Laying in Galtharians arms as he pulled the Silvan close and gripped him tightly as the words were barely even a whisper from his lips.
The body in Galtharian's arms begins to cease shivering and goes still. His sea-greyed eyes peering up to the silvan in a bloodied smile, whispering.
''Galo Anor erin râd lîn.''
