Thendryt

Not alone in the Dark

Thendryt walked calmly up the stairs in Delossad. His torch lit up the path like a ghostly trail in the darkness. As he arrived at the special cell he took out a keyring. He suddenly stopped. He inhaled through his nostrils, slowly, as he covered his face with his mask. He turned around and faced the darkness.

Snow and Slide

Epilogue

Thendryt sat quietly and gazed upon the river. Imladris was quiet, and dark. He should retire, but he wasn’t very tired. His wound was almost completely healed. He knew he’d get another scar, but at this point he didn’t mind. Scars were his history, written over his entire existence.

Small particles of dust slowly floated down to the ground, only visible through the rays of soft light that broke through a small crevice. Elven tables stood, aged and worn with time, holding up modest boxes and texts while rubble crowded the floor and a thin layer of dirt covered every surface within its walls.

Faorie takes the first steps into a hidden cave, known to the Elves of Imladris.