Rainith

      The spring sunshine beams softly down on parched earth. Eddies of dust, whirled into motion by the light breeze, dance and scatter before my eyes. I take a slow, unsteady breath in. The movement sends fire roaring across my chest. I did not even see the spring come, and now, I will not see it bloom in these woods I have loved so well. The orc takes two measured paces towards me, patient. I can hear him move, see the clouds of dust sent running at his heavy footsteps. He is savouring our fall. I cannot look behind me, cannot face my failure.

We have gone too far. For a moment the struggle seems to hang in the balance – we press forwards, they hurl themselves at us in unending, terrible rage. Then, as inevitably slow as the shifting of scales, the fight turns against us. We have been forced away from the company to our right – as we band tighter together, I realise that I cannot see them at all – the only sign that they fight on are their shouts, carrying in the clear air. There are a company of archers behind us, but I cannot see them, cannot hear them.

Whether it was night or not, the others did not know, but Belegos' instincts told him that the sun had set a while back. It was impossible to tell under the lichen-smothered boughs of Mirkwood. Day was only ever an almost imperceptible, lighter shade of darkness that passed quicker than what seemed normal. A storm had rolled overhead and it had been raining for hours. The company were sodden and miserable. The rain had soaked through their cloaks and hoods to run down their backs and collect in their boots.

Elloen had a bandage in his hand, and he was rolling it on the arm of yet another wounded malledhrim soldier. The air about him was foul, and there was little comfort in this place, at the camp of the shore at western Mirkwood. He heard the soldier thanking him and he smiled briefly as an answer. Danel had earlier negotiated that they could stay here if they helped the wounded soldiers and Elloen had agreed to do it, along with keeping an eye over Estarfin. Promise was a promise.

As I wait, the sun slips slowly down behind the trees, so that the leaves blush with rosy light. I light the lamps myself, kindling each small flame one by one. In the gathering darkness, the stone maiden stares out into the distance she cannot see, one hand always reaching out, expression lost in shadow. I sit cross-legged on the soft grass, listening to the sound of the waterfall just a few feet away. It doesn't completely mask the approaching footsteps, but I do not turn until I feel the hand drop lightly to my shoulder.

I saw Rainith and Lord Belegos wander off together, she looking betwixt us, and m

The shrill cry of a hawk pierces the cold morning air before the bird itself comes into view. It is dark brown with a golden beak, and it begins to circle lower and lower, down from the mountain peaks. Finally, with hardly a sound it lands nearby, a thin roll of parchment clasped in one clawed foot.

Suilad Lady Danel,

Elloen woke up early, since he could not sleep well. He was lying uncomfortably on the ground as others around him prepared for the departure, and he rose up. Danel seemed still concerned about Estarfin, as was Elloen. Except for a one strange answer Estarfin already seemed to have a clear mind, though he would not have anything to drink or eat.

“Why is Rainith not with us?" Estarfin asked Danel again.

Did this blockhead not understand anything? wondered Parnard. He spread his embroidery out before him and lifted up his wineskin. “Ai!” he gasped.

“What is it?” said Danel.