Third Age

5th hrívë, present days

48 Quellë, present days

"Move those arms 'Calie! Quick cuts! One, two, three! Strong strikes now! Never lock your elbow when striking, young elleth!"

Aicasicil’s family mansion, Forlindon, centuries ago

The light of the Moon shone high in the sky, filtering through the window into the room. It hit a series of wall-mounted decorations of painted crystals, creating a fascinating play of light-streaks on the ceiling. Little Eärcalië watched, fascinated, the colorful display. Her mother, who was reading her a bedtime story, closed the book and smiled.

Evendim, tiny isle near Lake Nenuial’s eastern shore, early summer, present days

Earcalie did not regret one bit taking a detour from the road home to accompany a couple of acquaintances she met few days before on the northern border of the Shire. She had planned to traverse quickly into Ered Luin avoiding to disturb the little folk, when her path crossed with siblings Feriel and Medon.

“What are you doing?” Gaeded spoke, bewilderment across her face as she sat down next to her patrol in Helm’s Deep’s Mead Hall. Two of her patrol, Cynred and Rædwulf were stacking empty, or at least Gaeded hoped they were empty, tankards on top of each other. The others of her patrol were muttering to each other and sliding coins in front of them.

“Overall, good work today. Leofsige, you’re spear work was sloppy. Uhtric, you need to hold your shield higher, but you managed not to be a few paces in front of everyone else today, which is an improvement. Everyone else, carry on the way you are. You’re dismissed!”