-Morgul Vale, T.A.-
“Mallossel, cease! That is an order from the First Autarch!” Cardanith hissed after her; she felt a hand try to grab her cloak but it fell short. The world seemed to slow down as she raised her halberd high into the area, glinting light off of the dim moon.
"Gurth an Glamhoth!" She shouted. She saw the eyes of the horde of yrch fall upon her. She heard speech sickening and howls like wolves baying for blood as they had begun to give chase.
“What is this you have given me, Autarch?” She said, looking up at Valeris. The First Autarch smiled at her gently and placed the pendant into her open hand. It was bright and dazzling, shaped like a star that brought to mind the kindness of Varda.
“It is a token, Visarch Mallossel,” Valeris explained to her patiently. “A token of hope. I wish for you to bear it, until such a time that someone else needs it more than you.”
Her world continued to move slowly as she saw them set upon her. Out of instinct, she reached to lay a hand upon the pendant that had for so long brought her comfort in times where none could be found. It only took a moment for her to realize and remember that it was no longer there.
Her eyes, for a split second, darted to where Cardanith bore it in his hand, and the faint glow it gave off like starlight was enough to resolve her decision. She struck out at one of the orcs that approached her, and her halberd sliced through bone and flesh. She pulled back and turned to run away - to lead the horde away from where the few of the Host remained in wait to flee.
She had turned at just the wrong moment. Her horse was long gone and she had been defending with sword and shield. She had heard Valeris cry out behind her; she and Cardanith were standing at his back. She had turned, and she watched as the First Autarch fell on the field of battle.
The white-jewel pendant had slipped from beneath her tunic at some point, and she felt the weight of it turn with her. As she settled, and the necklace fell against her chest, she noticed the thick spray of blood that coated her form. It was not hers. It was the blood of Velaris. Drops bled off of the white star and fell down below in haunting synchronicity.
Her world came back into frightening focus and speed as the adrenaline of her sprint set in. She knew not where she was going, just that she could not give away the secluded path that her fellows would take in their escape. She heard jeers and cries behind her. Then she heard the distant howl of wargs as they were loosed from their keepers’ cages. She was not going to be able to run forever.
Cardanith did not waste any time in grabbing the standard of The Host Palantine and taking his place as the next of the First Autarchs. Yet she could only watch in frozen horror at the scene, despite knowing she had her own men to fight alongside. How swiftly life was taken, how swiftly life could be given up. She would not allow her fellows to meet that same fate. She had to bear their hope. She had to save their lives.
