(continued from "A Dirge In Red - Part the Fifth")
Annatar stood in the ruin of the forge, his plan come to naught. The elven rings had eluded him, save for some of what he considered middling stones and trifles. As he looked up, he felt a familiar darkness. A fell spirit, refused to leave the field despite dying and having its power torn away. It burned with new hatred and a need for vengeance. He held out a hand, holding the malignant spirit like a baby bird within his deceptively gentle grasp. “Poor creature, abused and thwarted so by such pitiful filth as these,” he half-sneered. But then a terrible smile graced his fair form’s lips. “But, no matter; I will give you power and gifts so that you may hone your hatred like a blade. Tell me your name, spirit.”
The baneful thing hissed in the darkness, its disembodied voice filled with venom and desolation. “Taarreeeekkkkk.” Yet, even now, its memory of what it had been was faltering. "Taaa... Taar... Man-Sl-... Manssssssss.”
Annatar nodded. “Then do not fear, Mans of the Shadow. You will have your vengeance yet. You have my word.”
-
For the first time in a long time, Calidis felt anything but hollow. Instead, the pain of memory seemed to run right through her like a knife, never relenting and merciless by design. Lying prone and limp in her bed in the House of Three Graces, as tears continued to spill unnumbered from her dark eyes, she felt that her fëa could simply break free to escape it all. Is this how her lady mother had felt as she faded away in the dark of Moria?
And yet she could feel it; that strong force tethering her to the here and the now whether she willed it or not. The pendant about her neck glowed softly in the dim light as Hastaina, who now dwelt within it, sought to soothe her. A flash of anger crept its way into her expression and she reached up to clutch the adamant in a vice-like grip.
How dare you, she thought, her rage like a sudden winter storm within her. Look at what your aid has wrought! I should just cast you from me now and spare myself from your supposed help and mercy.
And yet, try as she might, she could not make herself tear that pendant from her neck to fling across the room. Her arm could not move and her ire was slowly melting, unbidden. How could she cast away the last thing the remained of her father? How could she forsake the last gift he had given her?
And, indeed, Hastaina remained, unphased by her anger and unbothered by her present state. It continued its attempts to soothe, despite her accusations. It would continue in its efforts to aid her, whether she wished it or not. Oh, how the daughter of Aegrod had become so used to the darkness that she shunned the light. The long years of internal winter would give way to spring, even as the storms remained and the ice sought to cling to new growth. Calidis would be dragged toward the light, kicking and screaming if need be.
She released her pendant and clutched at the edge of the blanket that had been lain over her as still more tears fell. At last, in the dark hours of the night, she slipped into an exhausted sleep, dark eyes wide open and hands outstretched limply upon the sheets, as if reaching for something.
-
She heard it first; a sorrowful sigh of deepest mourning that was not her own. Then came the soft caress of a breeze over her cheek that felt more like soft, cool fingers, though the window was not open. She slowly pulled herself upright, blankets falling to her waist and long, ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked to the corner of the room where the moonlight shone through the window and reflected upon the wall. There materialized, as if from a wisp of cloud, a feminine figure, shrouded in layers of grey so that even her face was obscured. Yet, the fact that the figure was continually weeping was made obvious by the tears that fell upon the floor and the sighs that continued to echo quietly through the room.
Calidis felt a sense of familiarity and she sat up straighter. She had felt this presence before, though only ever in passing, and many were the lessons learned consciously or unconsciously. And it appeared there were many more lessons to be learned still. She pressed an open hand to her heart and lowered her head and gaze respectfully.
“Hail Valatári,” she uttered quietly in her mother tongue. “Lady of Pity and Mourning, for what purpose should you come to one such as I?”
Nienna remained where she was and another mournful sigh echoed through the room before she deigned to answer, her voice both like a whisper and a song. “Your great sorrow has not gone unnoticed. I mourn for and with you, Merifindiel. Long have you endured… Yet you must endure longer still.”
Calidis let her hand fall to her side and looked up once more, brows furrowed and dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Endure longer? My lady, I feel as if I am like to break and find a place in Mandos… Will there be no peace for me?”
The figure stood then and crossed the room with all the grace of a slow drifting cloud. A shrouded hand came up and Calidis felt the whisper of fingers across her pale cheek again. “The Doomsman’s halls are not for you. And it is to my own great sorrow that your path forward will not be smooth and that pain is to be your lot before you can know peace.” The elleth’s expression crumpled then as her head bowed once more. Yet gentle pressure from the shrouded fingers at her cheek made her look up again with tear-filled eyes. “Yet, your long years of suffering have granted you a boon, though you have not seen it. Forward you must walk and yet you will not walk alone. Never again shall you endure everything on your own.”
Eyes like the darkest night closed and Calidis slowly nodded her tired acceptance. This seemed to satisfy the Sighing One who removed herself to the window, as if to leave. But then, Calidis turned and reached out to her again.
“Wait! Please, Merciful One—”
Nienna’s chosen form went still, as if listening.
“My father… Will I see him again before the end? And my mother--… Should I take the ship, will I one day see them face to face? Will that be my peace?”
The moment of silence and a shake of the figure’s head was her answer.
Anguish filled her heart again and she blinked…
-
Moonlight was still shining through the window as Calidis returned to the waking world again, still sitting upright in bed and her limbs shaking with unchecked emotion. Try as it might, Hastaina could not soothe this; she would not let it. The elleth thew the covers off of herself and stood. Her black gaze, as bottomless as a well, shifted to where her greatsword had been left by the door. She quickly crossed the room and took it up easily in one hand. She then pulled the door open and stalked through the halls towards the entrance of the House of Three Graces.
The cool midnight breeze played with her long locks of black hair as the doors shut behind her. She felt her limbs steady as her thoughts became more focused. Calidis breathed in deep and then exhaled it all quickly. The moon and stars illuminated her features which were pinched with anger. She felt rage course through her veins again, like the coldest ice. She took a step forward. Then another and another. And so she began her first of many ‘midnight walks’ about the island of Tol Lochúl.
Whatever boon her suffering had granted her, there was still one that she could hone as she willed. Her father had not been lax in teaching her the ways of the sword. Where she shrunk from battle before, she was determined to rise to the challenge now. Her pendant would not be the only thing left of Aegrod in these lands.
Even Calidis knew that, before spring could truly set in, winter had to have its last word.
(fin.)
