S.A 1350
The day of Orneth's departure had finally arrived, and the feeling of leaving so soon felt strangely odd. Despite this, she trusted Naerchanar's words and knew it was time to go. However, Orneth was disappointed to find that Manyamë was not there, and she felt a sense of desperation as she took one last stroll through the camp to see if there were any signs of her best friend. Just as Orneth was about to leave, Lady Giril suddenly appeared before her. "My dear Orneth. Are you already leaving?" Orneth smiled at her and replied, "Yes, it was just a short visit. I wanted to greet my friend Naerchanar." Giril smiled in a strange expression, as if she didn't quite believe that was the whole reason. "Well, you were a most delightful acquaintance to meet, but I understand. This place is not for you," she spoke. Orneth looked at Giril, and although she wanted to tell her that those thoughts were mutual, she decided against it. Giril had clearly made a home in Caranoth, and it could be that she regarded it as her own. Suddenly, Orneth remembered the construction site she had seen the day before and looked in its direction. She asked Giril, "Do you know why they are building houses and buildings across the farmlands? I thought this settlement was just temporary before the free folks travel home or to new residences." Giril replied, "I do not know, but many refugee camps do turn into villages or cities. This is no different. I think many of the inhabitants and refugees here have found peace. Although Eregion is mostly a city of the Noldor, there is a certain safety in being close to the city and the mountains as a shelter."
Orneth noticed Giril's eyes looking away as she tried to get a glimpse of something in the distance. She remarked, "Although, there is something peculiar about these buildings. I have seen figures entering the stone building at the western part. They look taller, with dark hair and grey eyes. I wonder if they are Noldor. It's a little weird, because they are not welcomed here. Maybe they are prisoners? This is indeed strange because it's definitely not in Naerchanar's style to be cruel or hateful. Although he has a high dislike for the Noldors, I think deep down, he appreciate their acceptance of Caranoth, and the citizens of the cities in Eregion have mostly left us in peace." Orneth felt flustered by the information and exclaimed, "Tall Eldars? Noldors?" Giril looked at her and replied, "Well, I do not know Orneth. It could be my imagination."
After saying their goodbyes, Orneth noticed Naerchanar emerging from his crimson tent, his robe matching its color, and his braided hair shining in the sun. As he approached her, she couldn't help but admire his striking appearance. Although she was curious about the construction site, she didn't want to give the impression that she was still searching for Manyamë. Naerchanar politely nodded and said, "As promised, let me escort you back to Demdor. He patrols the outposts of the city every day, and I think he consider this settlement to be one of them." Agreeing to his proposal, Orneth then asked, "Naerchanar, may I ask why there are stone buildings and wooden houses scattered throughout the farmlands?" Naerchanar appeared puzzled, as if the question was foolish. "It's simply an upgrade for Caranoth," he explained. "Tents are temporary, and some inhabitants have been living here for years with no intention of leaving." Without missing a beat, Orneth pressed on with her curiosity. "I overheard some festival-goers mention the possibility of Noldors being present there. Is there any truth to that?" Naerchanar looked away and tightly pursed his lips, as if he was displeased with the inquiry. "Who told you that?" he asked suspiciously. Concerned with his reaction, Orneth sensed that he believed the information to be true. She wanted to protect her friend Giril and tried to ease the tension by saying, "Just someone I met at the festival yesterday. I can't recall their name, unfortunately." Naerchanar's expression softened slightly as he responded, "Ah, I see. Well, rest assured, there are no Noldors in this area." Despite his reassurance, Orneth could sense that he wasn't entirely truthful. She remained steadfast in her resolve to investigate further. Her quest to find Manyamë still weighed heavily on her mind, and she couldn't bring herself to leave without exploring the evolving settlement.
Naerchanar kept a watchful eye on Orneth as they rode through the winding pathways of the camp, eventually leaving through the guarded gate. The guards gave them a regal greeting as they departed, but Orneth couldn't shake the feeling that something was left undiscovered. The settlement was fortified with patrolling guards and fences stretching as far as her eyes could see, making it difficult to get a closer look at the construction site. What if Manyamë or her son were there? As they stood there, a lone rider approached them, and Orneth breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized Demdor. He seemed confused when he saw Naerchanar standing next to Orneth, but greeted him calmly nonetheless, "Greetings, Lord Naerchanar." Naerchanar only nodded in response before turning his horse and disappearing into the settlement, leaving Orneth feeling puzzled about their past friendship.
Demdor looked at Orneth expressionlessly as he dismounted from his horse, "Is he the friend you spoke of?" Orneth looked at him, then Demdor helped her onto the horse before continuing, "Well, he was once my friend. He hails from Doriath, and we grew up together. He knew Manyamë and me both, so it's quite a strange coincidence that he's here and claims to have not seen Manyamë at all. The map that her son apparently made had Caranoth marked on it." Demdor nodded thoughtfully as they began to move forward, "Yes, it is peculiar, but it's possible that he's telling the truth. However, what do you know about Manyamë's son? Perhaps he is the one who visited this place instead?"
Orneth gazed into the distance and murmured, "I wonder..." She paused, lost in thought, and cast a dreamy glance towards the outskirts of the settlement. "Someone mentioned to me that they saw Noldorians near one of the stone buildings on the north side of the construction site. They are building new houses there using wood and stone. What if Manyamë or her son is there? Naerchanar dismissed my inquiries about who was present." Demdor remained silent, intently listening to Orneth's musings. She turned around, catching a glimpse of Demdor in her peripheral vision. "Demdor, would you accompany me to the north end of the settlement? I just need to take a closer look." "Trespassing?" Demdor inquired. Orneth shook her head, assuring him that she did not want their journey to be in vain. "I believe Naerchanar is hiding something, and I need to investigate further." Surprisingly, Demdor acquiesced to her request, directing their horse towards the nearby woods to avoid drawing attention from the guards. As they approached the farmland, Orneth could spot the larger stone building at the western part of the site. She dismounted the horse and turned towards Demdor with gratitude. "I apologize, Demdor. I just had to do this." Demdor nodded understandingly, reassuring her, "You do what you need to do."
The playful banter and races with Marilo had made Orneth vigilant, careful, and agile, allowing her to hide from tree to tree and move quickly and unnoticed. Finding a small opening in one of the fences, she climbed through it. Making her way towards the stone house, she sought a hidden spot behind a tree and drew her hood over her face to make herself as small and invisible as possible. After a brief period of silence, Orneth heard faint but discernible voices in the distance. She then saw a group of guards towing a large wagon with a horse. Peering through the mist, Orneth's eyes widened in disbelief as she saw two tall, dark-haired individuals in the wagon with a striking resemblance to the Noldor race. Recalling Giril's observations, Orneth struggled to hold onto hope that there was a valid reason for Naerchanar's deception. Despite the constant flow of people entering and exiting the stone house, she saw no one checking the guards who went in. She realized her dark cloak was quite similar to the cloaks worn by those going in. Could it be she could blend unnoticed among the group? Knowing how to make herself inconspicuous and unnoticeable, she swiftly made a decision to hasten inside.
She focused on finding a hiding spot to avoid any unwanted attention. When the guards headed towards the west wing hall, she quickly broke away from the group and concealed herself behind a stack of boxes, caskets, and bags. One of the guards turned and looked around, but dismissed it as his imagination. As the guards left the house and most of them were gone for the night, her pulse began to race once again. She reminded herself of her purpose for being there; she still needed answers about Manyamë's disappearance, and the sight of individuals similar to her kind had piqued her curiosity and eagerness. Suddenly, there was a loud sound of locked doors echoing through the halls. The dimly lit room was illuminated only by a few weak torches on the wall. Orneth noticed an open entrance to the left of the hall with a small light shining through and faint voices in the distance. She surveyed the area for any guards, but did not see anyone. Swiftly, she ran across the floor and glanced around once more to see if anyone was coming. She noticed small cells on either side of the room with shadows inside, but there was no sound. A sweet yet revolting stench filled the room, making her shiver. Something was definitely amiss. Orneth took a small torch from the wall and cautiously walked towards the cells, constantly checking her surroundings. Suddenly, a voice called out, "Lady..."
Picture AI-generated from Microsoft Bing DALL·E
