(continued from "A Dirge In Red - Part the First")
(Author's note: The events depicted here are scenes from the Sack of Eregion. They are seen as character and kinship canon and are not meant to infringe on book canon or any other character's canon stories and experiences.)
Amongst the ruined city of what was once glittering stone and finely wrought metal were burning holly trees. The streets everywhere were a complete frenzy of elves and foul creatures of the Enemy. Some tried to fight back and some tried desperately to flee. And yet all around them were the dying screams of those who failed and were cut down like wheat during a harvest. The streets began to look as if they were painted red. This was the destruction of Ost-in-Edhil.
And Calidis, as she was at a mere 400 years of age, an adult but still young, stood among the carnage, looking this way and that with a large, familiar greatsword strapped to her back. Her curtain of black hair fell in waves past her waist and was adorned in all manner of jewels. The blue dress she wore was just beginning to pick up the grime of the battle raging about her. Soon enough, another elven lady, garbed in white with dark brunette hair and eyes of silver, ran towards Calidis, arms outstretched. From the easy affection displayed between them in an instant and the similarity in their bearings, it was not hard to guess that this was her mother, Calidhriel.
The voice they had heard earlier began to fold itself into something, like batter in a mold, taking on the form and sound of someone familiar to each of them but different and private to all. And then the voice spoke again as the figure it took on for each person smiled. “Welcome to the light... What shall you embrace?”
Nethrida's face went as white as a ghost as she beheld "him", as the voice had decided to appear to her, once more. She then slouched and cowered for a moment at the surroundings. When she found the inner strength to lift her head again and look around, she was unsure what to do or say. "I--… Where--…? What is this?” she inquired of no one in particular.
Xanderian looked about herself, confused and then, laying her eyes on Calidis and her mother, shook her head in disbelief when she finally realized where they must be. “My loves, we are in her mind. We are in the memories of Night Eye; those she could never face.”
Eduwiges shivered when she heard the sound of her father's voice, a voice she would never hear again, as if he were standing right beside her. The hair on the back of her neck rose and tears spilled from her eyes. Ahmo surveyed the scene and her features hardened into something fierce. She knew this place very well, though she had fled the city in great haste back then.
Addiela closed her eyes as she relished in this moment, breathing in the burnt smell of destruction and death. She held out her hands, palms up, and drew in some of the flames to her as though this was her answer to what she would embrace. The flames turned a deep blood red, almost black, as they encircled her. Her mouth remained closed as a malicious sounding laugh escaped her throat. The woman would have heard Xan, but her focus remained on this that she could only see, which had materialized by her for now. Without opening her eyes, she spoke to it, knowing that it was not reality, but wanting to see how far she could push it. “I have dreamt of killing you a thousand times. Perhaps, we shall see if this is the place I can make that come true.”
Suddenly, at the head of the street, a massive orc general pulled his axe from the head of an elven woman, and looked to his three companions. “The smith! FIND THE SMITH! Tarek wants it ALIVE!”
Calidis and her mother reached each other and held themselves together in a frantic embrace. A fell creature of rotting teeth and leathery skin darted towards the pair. Calidis reached for her sword and wrapped an arm about her mother but found she couldn’t move to slay it. She pulled her mother close and closed her eyes, fearing the inevitable blow, when a city guardsman appeared from the side and placed himself between them and the creature, sword and shield held at the ready to fend it off. “My ladies! Please, there are those making for Hadrohond,” he informed them in frantic Quenya as he cut down the fell creature. “Run!” Mother and daughter embraced again and made a run for it, joining a group of fleeing elves, trying to find a way through the carnage, even as some of them are also cut down.
Calidis dodged a blow that came from the side and watched in horror as more elves about her were slain; elves she knew personally. Her mother gripped her shoulders tightly and dragged her into the center of the group of elves attempting to find a way through. “My mother, where is Aegrod? Where is my father?” Calidis asked.
Calidhriel shook her head and pulled her daughter close, silver eyes wide with fear and features contorted in despair. "Merifindiel, I do not know! But we must run! We must reach Hadhodrond. Our allies will keep us safe.”
The orc general at the head of the street caught sight of them fleeing and bellowed, “Those are the smith's b**** and whelp. GO CLAIM THEM!” His three underlings raced after mother and daughter, howling curses in Black Speech.
Xanderian slipped her bow, Heartbreaker, off her back and then stared. It was completely silent and dark to her; just a bow. For a moment the huntress seemed as if she was going to scream but then nocked an arrow and aimed at the first of the rushing orcs. She whispered something under her breath, and loosed the arrow, catching one orc in the eye and knocking him back a step. As he stumbled, the other two turned to face the small group in confusion. These were different prey.
Nethrida 's confusion was momentarily disrupted by the howling and the words of encouragement that she could only hear. Her gaze hardened and, for a moment, the old Captain was back. She drew her sword and prepared to lunge forward. “I--… Something seems--…” She hesitated, feeling like something was holding her back, but ultimately placed herself between the orcs and the retreating elves, glancing at where she thought Therion, as the voice chose to appear to her, was, and felt utterly confused.
Eduwiges looked in the direction Xanderian was aiming and pulled out her dagger and sword. Seeing the orcs moving, the warrior positioned herself to ward them off. “Elfward for Faldham!” she screamed in a deafening battle cry and the orcs turned, caught off guard and surprised to face a new foe. They backed up a bit as she has attacked with her blades.
The blow was narrowly avoided by the orc and he found himself swaying, now put off balance. “Who are these Tarks?” he bellowed in confusion.
Addiela opened her eyes now as a deep frown formed on her face. She could not sense the source of the power that brought them here and appeared to her in the form of her most hated enemy. Yet, it did not feel like an illusion or a glamour. It was all very real. Her eyes then turned to find Calidis in the midst of a panicking, fleeing crowd. It was her memories they were all in. She was the trigger and her song was needed. Addiela refused to die here; not with being so close to her goal.
She grew angry now; angry that she had been brought here. She directed her hands forward to direct the dark flames swirling around her out from her fingertips, as though they were dark tendrils, towards the other orcs nearby that were assailing the group Calidis and her mother were in. The orcs stopped short for a moment as they were sprayed with fire, howling in pain. However, strange red runes appeared and danced around their crudely constructed armor and the flames died. Ahmo sighed to herself and unsheathed her sword, ready to fend of anymore attackers that should break off from that group from behind.
At the head of the street the orc general cursed in frustration and bellowed his orders. “KILL THE TARKS, YOU MAGGOTS! BRING ME THE ONES WHO BELONG TO THE SMITH!”
Closer to them, the orc with an arrow still sticking out of its eye turned to growl at Addiela and raced forward. Xanderian cursed and let out another whisper. A second arrow cut through the air, sailing towards the orc that was intent on slaying Addiela and struck him. He went down, skidding along the marble street and coming to a rest at the woman’s feet.
Calidis looked up with confusion at the unfamiliar battle cries her black gaze, like glittering onyx, passed over the group for a moment, not recognizing them. A wail erupted from the group as more and more are slain about them. More battered city guards steeled their resolve and attempted to continue cutting a path of escape through the city as well as protect those who had survived until now. The ground was stained red and black. The hems of Calidis' sapphire gown began to get more soiled.
“Where is the host of Amroth? Where are Lord Elrond’s forces? Our messengers must have reached them by now!” calls out one guard in near despair as the carnage continued. “Where is the High King?”
Nethrida took a few deep breaths. Spurred on by the words of encouragement from someone so important that she alone could hear, she finally charged forwards with a fierce battle cry. She rushed forth with the same fervor she had wielded once as a captain and delivered a powerful slash at the fell creatures. The orc Nethrida struck staggered back, bits or armor flying in all directions. With a snarl, it spat blood and dropped the chain of a heavy morning star, swinging the massive spiked ball at Nethrida. “Die, Tark!” it hissed in fury.
Eduwiges dug deep when she heard the sound of her fathers voice again. She recalled all he had taught her and everything she had learned in Lothlórien, from Glorfindel, and from the mighty steel of the hounds of Dol Amroth. She remembered Xandilif's cold, death weaving fury of the sword. She had sworn to protect those who were weak. She spun and used the whirling momentum to launch the hot steel of her blades into hides of the orcs in front of her. They bit deeply into the shoulder of the third orc and rendered his armless. However, he still had one good hand. He used his spear to make a jab towards the warrior’s belly as more orcs rushed towards the group, leaving the group of elves to flee in favor of much more interesting prey.
Ahmo quickly picked off a few in quick succession, her own blade cutting through them like butter. She huffed out a breath of air in annoyance as she heard the orc general bellowed out more orders again. “Leave the chattel! Let Droog have them! KILL THE TARKS!”
Addiela turned her gaze on the leader. Best to cut the head from the snake. In her recent studies, she had been practicing on drawing the darkness from matter in an effort to corrupt her own magic. This was perhaps the perfect opportunity to draw from a direct source of pure evil, though it was most assuredly a risk to her own person. She pointed a single finger at him and, with a quick motion, curled it back to her as she focused on trying to drain his very essence from him until he is nothing more than a withered husk. A rush of hate flowed into her and the orc leader stopped to stare at her. “Tark witch,” he growled menacingly as he began stomping down the street in an effort to get to her before his life drained away.
Just then, a desperate but triumphant cry went up at the head of the elven survivors as the remaining battered city guards finally cut a clear path down the street covered by a raised dome of stone. Calidis and her mother, still held in each other’s embrace hurried along with the rest of the group, stepping through puddles of blood and dodging flames from fallen branches of burning holly trees.
Xanderian sighed in relief as the small party of survivors began to flee in earnest as her eyes sought Calidis. But she paused again when as she noticed more orcs falling away willingly from the elves as they began to chant, “Droog… Droog… Droog…”
“Quickly finish these, my darlings. Something else comes…”
(to be continued in "A Dirge In Red - Part the Third")
