(continued from "A Dirge In Red - Part the Fourth")
(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.)
It did not take long for Calidis to reach the Guildhouse of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Upon seeing the streets about the Forge Hall empty, she slipped inside through the ruined doors. The hall was dark and had clearly already seen some defilement. Stepping over shattered remains of glass, gems, and metal, she tried to ignore the way her skin crawled and the sudden shivers that raced up and down her spine. Something wasn’t right here. The scent of blood assaulted her nostrils and ahead of her in the main hall, she heard an agonized scream – one she recognized all too well – accompanied by the smooth peal of cruel laughter. She held her greatsword tightly in one hand and crept forward, keeping the shadows along the wall.
She came to the main hall’s entrance, where stone had crumbled and half obscured the passage. She kept her breathing quiet and steeled her nerves. Yet, she felt her limbs grow heavier, as if they were weighted down by something unseen. She had to practically drag herself to the crumbled barrier of stone and peered through a gap in it. The scene before her eyes make her silently choke.
The mangled bodies of many of the Mírdain were strewn about the hall – many of whom she recognized, much to her horror. On the far end of the hall was none other than Lord Celebrimbor, looking bloodied and worse for wear as he half struggled in the vice like grip of a dozen orcs. Clearly, he had tried to make a last stand and lost. A few paces away from him was someone lying on the floor, still alive and crying in agony. That someone was missing some of his limbs and was bleeding out heavily onto the stone floor.
Calidis wanted to scream when she recognized her father’s face but the air has been all but stolen from her lungs by a force unseen. Her dark eyes went wide with fright and she felt invisible hands clamp down upon her limbs and one pressed behind her head forcing her to remain still and facing forward to look at the gruesome sight…
--
Outside of the Guildhouse, Xanderian, ever the expert Huntress, had found and pursued Calidis’ trail through the city. Nethrida followed behind, slightly winded but with a small smile upon her face over the still-lingering and well-loved voice she heard in her head. Eduwiges came after, shaking her head a little at the destruction about the city and holding fast to the voice of her father she still heard speaking to her. Ahmo ran with them, still holding her spear and keeping an eye out for potential enemies that could appear from anywhere.
Addiela, still heard that hated voice following her but did not even turn to look towards where she perceived it to be. “You would know waste, I suppose, you waste of breath and life.” Regardless, the words spoken to her do not deter her from her course. She casually walked behind the others, pulling the fire she had created earlier along behind her, the smoke mingling with that which was created by the city burning about them.
As they came to the once-beautiful courtyard before the Guildhouse, they heard the not-so-far-off growls and curses in Black Speech of a practical army, comprised of many orcs and other such servants of the Enemy. As the army marched down the ruined streets, coming ever closer, an orc chieftain, mounted atop a vile-looking warg could be seen at the head.
Nethrida's face turned pale and she staggered several steps back, horrified at the sheer number of orcs coming their way. She lowered her sword and looked utterly devastated, lost, and unsure how to proceed. Eduwiges shook with adrenaline that still coursed through her veins from the encounter with the troll. She gasped as she saw the enemy approaching but suddenly grabbed at her helmet with both hands as if shutting something out. “I will not falter!” Beside her, Ahmo unsheathed her sword with one hand as she held her spear at the ready in the other.
Addiela looked toward the Guildhall and her eyes narrowed as she heard a new voice. In the state she was in, she could not help but to turn slightly toward the darkness as the words fell on her ears like honey, tempting her to take a taste. Without a word to the others, she began to move toward the hall.
Xanderian bit her lip, gaze looking far away for a moment as the cruel reality set in. “... We cannot help Night Eye with what she must face. We are powerless to stop that transpires within the Forge.” She whimpered a little and took a few steps back. It took a moment to recover and pur on a brave front. “But, we can ensure she is not attacked while doing so. We can buy time and make a stand here to keep that army at bay. Nocking an arrow she moved swiftly down towards the orcs.
Nethrida's gaze hardened and she to regained some of her composure. She nodded slowly to the words she heard spoken in her ear by the voice of Therion. She took a few deep breaths and stepped forward this time, sword raised up and ready to fight. Eduwiges stood up straight upon seeing Xanderian running to engage the enemy. She hefted her greatsword into a foreward attack position and followed after the Huntress. Ahmo remained in place, spear and sword raised.
Addiela rolled her eyes at the all too familiar and all too hated, voice that had remained with her through all of this. It almost gave her pause to turn from her intended path because she could not stand the thought of doing anything this worm would consider worthy of approval. However, the pull from whatever force that resided in that Guildhall was much stronger than her hate. She continued in that direction, taking no real notice that the rest of the group had already taken to battle…
--
Calidis’ black gaze shifted and, much to her horror, she saw that, standing across from Celebrimbor and the tortured form of her father, there was one whom she recognized as Annnatar, though the people of Ost-in-Edhil had long since learned his true identity. He appeared as he ever did when he resided in the city, though, perhaps crueler and more malicious; as if something darker was residing within his deceptively fair form. Annatar laughed cruelly and took a step towards Celebrimbor, who remained grappled and ceased his struggles to look the betrayer in the eye with his usual stubbornness, despite his current state. “The more you resist, the more he shall suffer for it as all the others have,” taunted Annatar. “Tell me Teleprinquar, it really is so simple. Where have you sent them?” Celebrimbor sneered at his adversary and then looked to Aegrod, who was growing very still on the floor as he moaned with agony.
Still frozen, held forcefully in place by cruel, unseen hands, Calidis heard a weak voice in her head; one she recognized.
"Daughter... My daughter I know you are there. Do not look! Don't look at this!”
--
Nethrida’s posture straightened out; tall and proud, as it was once had been in a time before the darkness. She took out deep breath and with a powerful voice she bellowed out "For Gondor!" and braced herself for battle, pointing her sword forward, inviting the enemy to come test their mettle against her.
Xanderian fired several arrows in succession, each one finding one a number of the orc guards around their chieftain, as if something was lending force and fire to each shot. Ahmo, in turn, launched her spear at another guard and fended off another with her sword as she went to retrieve it. The Chieftain looks up, and heads of men and elves alike were seen, hanging from his equipment like talismans. “Who dares to face Tarek Man-Slayer? Who is next to die?”
Eduwiges ran right up to the enemy with a steady but firm gait. Enraged by the slaughter she had seen thus far, she thrust her greatsword up into the chieftan’s warg, successfully slaying it and forcing to chieftain to stand upon the ground. “FINALLY!” he jeered. “Fit prey for the Man-Slayer, even if they be woman flesh. No matter.” Tarek drew two viciously curved blades from his belt, waving away any underlings who tried to come to his defense. “No, these are mine. New ornaments for my master!”
Addiela mindlessly continued forward, stepping through puddles of blood and filth, her gaze set on the Guildhall ahead and looking distant as her thoughts consumed her. For a moment she relished in the feeling of power, of control, of darkness. She took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of death and blood… Lifeblood! That realization was enough to cause her to snap back into reality. She blinked and glanced around for a moment, looking for the others. She finally spotted her friends on the field of battle facing the horrible foe. She had left them there to fight alone, following that deceptively honey sweet voice. And even now, she could hear that other voice, saying to her, “Do not falter. You are so close to all you deserve, daughter of Rohan.”
Nethrida decided to test her strength against the orc. She took a swing at him but he avoided it, moving much more fluidly than any orc usually did. How odd. She took a step back and readied her sword for another attack, when the trophies on Tarek’s belt suddenly came to life, blinking their eyes and opening their mouths to scream. The unnatural sight made her take a step back “What in Elendil's name...!”
Eduwiges managed to remain calm, employing the techniques that Xandilif had taught her in training. While the heads screamed, she lunged forward, the tip of her greatsword going for Tarek’s head. But, again, the orc avoided the blow with surprising ease. Meanwhile, Addiela peered over at the army quirked a brow at seeing the three-on-one fight. Her gaze flitted about, taking in the masses, as she worked to formulate some kind of plan…
--
Calidis still heard her father's pleading voice in her head.
“Please, Merifindiel, run. This is not meant for your eyes... Look away!”
She gripped her greatsword tighter and desperately attempted to move but still found that every inch of her body had been frozen in place. The pressure encircling her limbs and at the back of her head increasedto the point of almost pain. And then she heard another voice; one that was sickeningly cruel. Someone else knew she was there.
“Look! Look and see how he will scream! Behold his last moments!”
A scream rose in her throat again and yet she could not release it as she remained locked in place, unable to move and unable to look away.
In the main hall, Celebrimbor locked eyes with Aegrod and winced as his friend curled in on himself, still moaning in agony, though he seemed to be holding on for something. The look that passed between them was fleeting but it was clear that there was some understanding between them. Celebrimbor looked back to Annatar and spat in his direction. "Save your supposed mercies, Base Master of Treachery. I will not give them over to the likes of you. And may your own become your doom!"
Annatar's eyes narrowed and his cruel smile twisted into something more dreadful as his full malice rose to the forefront of his expression. Slowly his fair guise began to drop to reveal parts of his true form, both terrible and loathsome. He stalked forward and struck Celebrimbor across the face before turning to his orc minions that stood about the dying Aegrod. "Finish him! And make it slow. I want Telperinquar to reap every last reward for his defiance while I allow him to still draw breath.”
“No! Merifindiel look away!” came her father’s voice, desperate and anguished. “Run! Do not stay here!... Calidis, please.”
Meanwhile that other fell voice echoed in her head again. “Yes! Bear witness! Is it not fitting for a daughter to attend on her father's last rites? Look! Look!”
--
Xanderian watched both as her friends narrowly avoided fearsome attacks as her own were deflected or blocked altogether. For a moment, her gaze became unfocused and far away again. Something was not right here. How could this orc be so empowered, so capable of taking on all of them, and come out unscathed every time? But soon enough she snapped back to the present and cried out, “Not the orc! Do not attack the orc! He is but a shell. THE HEADS!”
Tarek bellowed as all the heads began speaking at once in Black Speech. A crackle of dark magic electrified the air and Addie screamed as she felt darkness swirl about them, being drawn in by the orc. She could not let this stand! She reached her arms into the air and concentrated with all her willpower as she began to try and draw the darkness towards herself instead. If a sacrifice was needed for the good of all, she was willing to become it. Or, if that failed, she wanted to at least attempt to slow it down long enough for her friends to make an end of Tarek.
Nethrida briefly looked over her shoulder at Xanderian. A moment of confusion ensued, quickly followed by realization. Her gaze snapped back to the dreadful orc. “So be it!” She lunged forward and managed to sever one of the heads from Tarek’s belt. Eduwiges recovered her attack and, quick as a striking snake, swung a mighty blow which cut away two more heads. Ahmo launched her spear with precision and took out yet another two.
Xanderian suddenly staggered backwards, hearing that same voice in her head a gain. “I cannot choose,” she whispered back to it, shaking her head. “Why must I choose my darling? Why must there be choices?” She held her attack as tears coursed down her cheeks.
The chant in Black Speech faltered and then continued, though it was much weaker now. All turned to look to Addiela, who was now gleaming like a flaming star. The darkness flowed towards her, like water running downhill.
And then everything came to a halt.
All of the voices that accompanied each person spoke in unison, though now they could be heard by all; even by Calidis in the Guildhall, who was still internally reeling, even as the horror before her eyes stopped.
“Now we are at the moment of choice. The tragic sister and the abandoned child must choose. Sweet Not Aegrod, you must decide. If you so choose, Aegrod will survive this day, hampered as he is, and his wisdom will remain with you. But in doing so, the Student of Melkor will gain what he seeks, and the world will be forevermore changed. Choose to let history remain and noble Aegrod will depart, and his wisdom shall leave these lands. But doom will be delayed as it once was, as it will be. Choose, Abandoned Child, Servant of the Distant Hope. Choose.”
Calidis’ body twitched, as if she struggled. Her right arm, holding her greatsword came free first, and then the rest of her followed, as if she were breaking through glass. Confusion colored her expression until at last awareness returned to her eyes that, once again, become as bottomless as they had been in recent days. She was Calidis of Rivendell again. She gulped down the air that she had been all but denied and let out an anguished cry that sounded almost like a scream. "You... Why would you ask this of me? How could you ask me to choose between his life and doom like this?!" She dropped her sword to the ground and her hands came up to grab fistfuls of her dark hair as she curled in on herself. “My father; you said you loved him! How is this giving aid?! I remember everything!... I remember everything..."
The voice continued, undeterred by her reaction. “And now you will see that all things have purpose. All things have choices. Nothing is by accident, nothing is forgotten. Fate dictates the smallest movement of a butterflies wing. You are not the victim of idle circumstance. You are a player on the board, just as Aegrod is, or the Ringlord, or the servant of Melkor. The Tragic Sister, the lost Horsemistress, the Blighted Lover, the Daughter of Darkness... Each of you walk in history and time parts in your wake.”
--
Nethrida, determined to see this through, pressed her attack while things were at a standstill. Despite being deeply unnerved by the severed heads, she adjusted her footing and darted in to sever yet another head. “You will fall here, today,” she growled at Tarek. Eduwiges and Ahmo followed close behind and severed more heads in turn.
The blighted darkness was poisoning the life in Addiela’s mortal blood. Like searing acid, she could feel it coursing through her veins as it entered her fingertips and surged toward her heart. Her breathing became labored and her arms began to shake as she faltered, struggling to hold them up as the darkness began to corrupt her very flesh and bone. She had to keep going. She turned her gaze towards someone unseen and smirked. “I strike for my father and his name, worm. You should have killed me too when you had the chance.”
Xanderian wept uncontrollably, knowing that Addiela was intent on sacrificing herself and reeling in the face of her own choice. She reached out and grasped the two remaining screaming heads in Tarek’s belt. "I have made my choice, despite the cost. May I be judged with mercy." She then crushed the two heads, ending their cacophony of Black Speech.
--
Calidis also wept in her own sorrow and agony and forced herself to stand upright. She let her arms fall back to her sides as she stepped to the opening between crumbled stone and the scene before her in the Forge Hall. She cringed and recoiled at the sight of her father’s current state. She remembered seeing this before. This had been enough to shatter her completely. Thousands of years had passed and still, this was enough to shatter her all over again; this time, without the escape of repressed memories.
“Would that this choice were not given to me. I am not made for this,” she sobbed aloud, letting her head fall back as she slumped where she stood. “I am not Calidis of Eregion anymore. I can never be her again. And I cannot condemn my father to a life like this. I cannot give over my sorrow to him… Nothing will change. Everything shall be as it happened. I will remain a player upon the board.” Tears ran like rivers down her pale cheeks as she continued to weep.
And then, it was as if the whole world sighed. She felt a caress of mercy and contentment like she had never known before. The pendant of adamant about her neck glowed with a strange light as the fëa and will of Aegrod left it. She knows in her heart that the choice was right, though she would surely weep long over the pain of it.
-
Tarek Man-Slayer, or, rather, the spirit that wore Tarek Man-Slayer like armor, howled it's defiance as all wents silent about it. The fell spirit’s chosen form faded away along with the army that it had raised, created and formed by dark magic.
Addiela was filled with shadow as she rasped, looking up at the red sun as it burned her pale, blood shot eyes. Her withered hands clenched, skin pale and blue, as she began to descend into the wraith world… Until she felt a gentle but firm hand fall on her shoulder. She squinted and looked over her shoulder to see an elf, tall and handsome, with hair like the darkest ink, eyes like a night sky filled with stars, and a kind smile. “Nay, Addiela, the shadow does not suit you,” he remarked quietly as he lifted her to her feet. “This blight shall be mine, not yours. But, I ask you, when your fate seems most dire and you weep in fear and frustration, remember Aegrod, with kindness and protect my daughter when you meet her."
The elf seemed to absorb the darkness and, with a last lingering look at the ruin of his home, he faded away into the soft breeze that swept through the courtyard, leaving Addiela as she had been; perfectly unscathed.
The wind picked up and the area and memory they were all caught up in swirled and then dissipated. Xanderian, Ahmo, Nethrida, Eduwiges, and Addiela opened their eyes to see that they were still standing in the entry hall of the House of Three Graces on the island of Tol Lochúl. Before them was Calidis, lying on the stone floor, curled in on herself, with the sword that had held the crystal lying nearby. The elleth held a bloodied hand to her chest and rocked back and forth slightly as endless tears of unfathomable grief escaped her.
(To be continued in "A Dirge In Red - Epilogue")
