Old tracks

[Rhiannon]

*There, the rim of the forest... hears her horse panting frantically* Soon, Arian, just a little longer, please... *Her cracked and dry lips sting with each whispered word. * Dear Spirits, please... please let them fall for the false track just long enough... *Fights against the rising darkness behind her eyes. Only a few more trees. Arian crashes through the underwood. Light. * Go on, we can rest, soon. * Squints in the sunlight. The pasture, the houses in the distance - all there but - deserted, silent. Groans. There is only one more option. Urges Arian to step into the small creek leading to the lake with the waterfall. The landscape starts to blurr again. No, not now, so close. Cool splashes against her hot skin. There, the dark willows at the lake. She can hear the waterfall now. Gets off her horse, falling down as her legs somehow don't support her anymore. Crawls into the lake, reigns between her teeth.* Trust me, please, follow me. We will be safe, soon. They can't find us. I promise. *Starts to swim towards the waterfall. As they get closer and closer, she can feel a tug at the reigns.* Arian, please... trust me. *Leads her horse right to the veil of water. Pats Arians back, then draws a deep breath and dives. Green. Blue. White. Thunder in her ears. Then silence. One, two more strokes. They break the surface. The dark water of the grotto is surprisingly warm. Swims slowly across the lake until they reach the small island with the old white house. Arian hurries to get land under her hooves again, dragging her onto the beach. Crawls up to the rim of grass and pulls herself upright with the help of a little tree growing under one of the small holes in the ceiling of the cave. Manages to drag the saddle off her horse and to get up to the house. The wound on her right side starts to bleed again. Too exhausted to get to the sleeping rooms in the first floor, she curls up in her blanket in the middle of the library floor. *

[Rhiannon]

*wakes up, shivering. Every part of her body hurts. Reaches down slowly. Although the initial slash hadn't been very large, the blade had cut deeper than she thought. The whole area is swollen. Grits her teeth and pulls off the piece of cloth covering the wound. Something thick and yellow oozes from the deep cut. Trying to ignore the pain, she crawls slowly towards the old kitchen. Maybe she was lucky. Opens every cupboard she can reach, careful not to overlook a single container. There, yes, an old loaf, green and white with mould. And a bottle. Most of the label is long gone but the numbers in a corner indicate a sufficient amount of alcohol. Feels too weak to make it back to the libray. Fumbles for her knife. Uncorks the bottle with her teeth, takes a large sip and cleans the blade with some of the alcohol. Splashes some more around the wound, then draws a deep breath and widens the cut where it had ripped open again. A wave of pain and darkness almost drowns her. Fights her way back to the surface of her mind. Not now. Squeezes the rims of the wound until it seems to be dry. Pours more liquor over the opening, waits a few breaths, then pulls close the loaf of former bread. Grabs a handfull of mould and stuffs it into the wound. * Dear Spirits, let it be the right kind...* Puts the cloth back and leans against a cupboard.

The rocks, again. Above her the towering peaks of the mountainsr. The night has fallen but the full moon shows the narrow mountain path in silver light. On the foot of the slope she is riding down, the lights of a village shine through scattered trees. A rare, peaceful sight. Suddendly, she feels how exhausted she is, aching from a long ride. Only a few more turns of the path, then they can rest. As she gets closer, something seems to be strange about the settlement. She is tired, almost falling asleep in the saddle and can't pinpoint the feeling. But as she enters the village, riding past the first houses it becomes clear: silence. No voices, no dogs barking, nothing. TRAP. Urges Arian forward. They rush down the street. Shadows moving, something hits her left leg. Ignores the pain and draws her sword. Turns a corner and almost falls off her horse as Arian stops dead before a barricade. Orcs swarm over the pile of broken carts, stones and trees. Tries to turn around but more are coming from every side. *We have been waiting for you, ranger...* The voice seems to be directly behind her eyes. *Time to settle the score, ranger...* Starts fighting off the black crowds, trying to give Arian room to back off. But for every hissing face she cuts down, ever arm that holds a sword, many more are coming. Feels Arian panic. Her horse is bleeding heavily, too. Pain, more pain. Can hardly lift her sword anymore. There, a gap in the dark masses. Rushes forward, jumping over a smaller part of the barrier. Something hits her head, she tastes blood in her mouth. Just run. RUN. Hears the pack of orcs behind her howling, breaking into pursuit. No chances on open ground, no way back into the mountains. They are in no condition to climb anything. A forest. Arian gallops towards a small black rim at the horizon. Tries to stay conscious. Trees - at last. Looks back. The orcs are suprisingly close. How come they are so fast? No time, just go on. Gathers all her strength to stay awake and cover her tracks as good as possible. *We need help, fast* They can't take direct routes. Tries every trick to get rid of their chasers. But every time she is sure that they have made it, she can hear or smell them again. Feels Arian and herself getting weaker and weaker. Not much time left. One last try to shake them off their heels. Just long enough to make it - home. *

[Rhiannon]

*The dark veils part again. Opens her eyes. She feels much better now, the violent fever seems to have subsided and her right side is much less swollen. Rips off the piece of cloth covering the wound. The red and yellow colours are almost gone. Water. Crawls to the door and slowly out to the beach. Takes a few sips, then decides to try to take a bath. Undresses and carefully examines the rest of her body. She is covered with bruises from many stones. A few minor cuts. Remembers two arrows hitting her left leg. She must have removed the heads already. The first one, a clear shot through her thigh, the second one just below the knee. Not much pain - nor any sensation. She can move her toes and lower leg a little but apart from a strange tingling feeling her leg seems to be numb. Well, she won't swim very far anyway. After washing h erself as good as she can, she also tries to clean her clothes from blood and dirt. Feels much better already. Pushes herself up and looks around. She has no idea how long she has been unconscious. Sees Arian moving behind some trees and sighs with relief. Her horse will be fine. Makes her way back to the house. Takes the bread and the bottle from the kitchen back to the library. Cleans her wounds again with the alcohol and applies fresh mould. Finds some clean bandages in one of her bags. Just as she's finished, she feels the dark tide rising again, falling back asleep. *

[Rhiannon]

Grandma, Grandma! *giggles and runs through the garden towards the old house. But halfway to the old rose bush at the entrance, something seems to slow her. Looks down to her feet. The green shoes she loved so much as a child are soaked with blood. *Grandma? ! ? *The figure at the door turns around *Remember the old ways, my child, remember who you are, remember the dragon and how to wake the fire....* Wakes up, panting. The pain has grown worse again. Curses herself for not bringing any water back with her. Rolls over to her saddlebags. Finds a bottle. The water smells stale but she has no choice. Takes a few sips, then lies back again. "Remember the old ways...." The traditions of her people. Wise men praying to the Spirits for sick people, leading them to the Other World to fight the spirit and demons of their illness. But she was alone. There was no one to guide her, to lay a bundle of white Ystryn-flowers on her face that would protect her body whhile her soul was away. No one to chant the invocations, to bless the fire, to hold and comfort her. She was alone. But hadn't she been alone for the most part of her life? Her grandma was the person she loved and trusted most. Maybe she was right. If not... Pushes that thought away. Takes another sip of water and turns back to her bags. Finds some small dried white flowers in one of them. Not Ystryn but maybe they would do the trick. Closes her eyes, places the blossoms on her forehead and starts to chant the first words of the invocation of the Great Dragon* Mother Dragon, keeper of the first flame, hear your child....

*Blinks. Pure white around her. Snow. But she doesn't feel cold, more like wrapped in fire. Looks down. She wears a red leather armour, light and comfortable but protective. Some knives in her belt, her sword. In her left hand, a huge spear, like the ones used for hunting bears. Flexes her muscles, then looks around. * I will find you....* Chooses a direction and starts walking.
Time stretches. On and on. Suddendly, a movement at the horizon. Something is coming her way, fast. Stands up tall, repeating the prayers to the Dragon. A foul smell hits her nose. Old and rotten. A soulcatcher. Life or death. The beast comes closer, still having no defined shape. Starts to sing louder and louder. Feels the fire flickering inside and outside her. There. The beast has stopped, about 30 steps in front of her. It seems to be all fangs and claws, radiating pure - nothing, blackness. Swallows her fear and keeps singing. They start to circle each other. The soulcatcher starts to growl. Suddendly, it starts to run towards her, taking a long last jump. She takes a foreward roll, closing the distance. The beast flies over her head and lands with an angry howl. It turns around to pounce again. She gets her spear ready in time. She must have hit it right in the chest but - no obvious effect. Feels sweat starting to drip from her nose. There it comes again. Throws the spear with all her power - and it glides through the spirit like through smoke. Is puzzled a moment too long. Fangs everywhere. A sharp pain as a claw rips through leather covering her stomach. Manages to turn away and to get up. Is this a grin? At least she is not bleeding. What was going on? How should she win this fight? Feels that well known nagging little voice inside her mind. She was forgetting something, something important. Tries to concentrate while drawing her sword. "Remember how to wake the fire...." What if all this was just a trick? Maybe this was just what the soulcatcher wanted her to see and do - to fight. She had been here before, hadn't she? She had been 13 years old and been bitten by a snake. Yes. Smiles as she remembers. Slowly drops all weapons, one by one. Takes off the armour and steps away from the pile. "Mother Dragon, keeper of the first flame, hear your child. All my trust I bring to your heart, keep my soul under your wings and let your fire be my sword." The soulcatcher looks darker and darker, as if getting angry. It attacks again. Stands upright, not moving. Feels the impact throwing her backwards and just as a claw is above her throat - the fire. Red, yellow, orange, everywhere, all around the soulcatcher. A long, high-pitched shriek - then it is gone. Feels the white collapsing on her.

Opens her eyes. The libray ceiling. She is still alive. Feels much better and tries to sit up. Petals fall from her face. Looks down to examine her wounds. The bruises are gone and the slash at her right side looks much better now. The infection seems to be gone. A few minor cuts have already faded to small silver scars. She still can't feel her left leg but the wounds have closed. Well, not bad for a trip to the Other World all alone.* Thank you, Grandma.... * Gets to her knees and to the entrance of the house, this time taking all the bottles within her reach with her as well as a few new bandages. Whistles for Arian. The reply is quick and nearby. Sees her horse trodding up to the door. A few new scars stretch across Arian's sides but otherwise the horse seems to be fine. *Good girl* Pats its head as Arian softly rubs it to her cheek. Makes her way to the group of trees. Finds a few branches to cast her leg. Manages to get up and to do a few steps.* Whooops, not running anywhere but much better. * Looks around. Arian seems to have grazed down most of the island's grass. Since she was a very sensible horse, she pobably would have rationed it. How long had they been here, how long had she been lying in the library, unconscious? At least a week, probably a few days more. Was it already safe to go to the other side of the waterfall? Sure, the orcs hadn't discovered the two entrances to the grotto but what if they were still around? She was in no condition for another chase. On the other hand, they needed food. Heads back to the house, carefully watching the ground before each step. Inside, she opens the door to the cellars. Maybe she was lucky and would find something to eat. Brushes the cobwebs off a candle and starts to climb down, one step at a time. There, the first room. Shelves, but most are empty. Finds a few glasses with fruits. Her hands tremble as she tries to open one. Strawberries, red and sweet. Tries to slow herself down but the need for sugar is overwhelming. Manages to put the glass away after eating half of the fruits. Suddendly, life felt much better again. Takes a few glasses and wraps them in a spare cloth to take them up. Back in the library, she puts the glasses and the bottles with water well within her reach before lying down again. This time, her dreams were far more pleasent.*

[Rhiannon]

*Still feeling weak but less sick and feverish, she hears Arian trotting up and down right before the house. Limps to the door. * You're right, my girl. It's no use if we stay any longer. If we want some help, we have to take the risk. * Looks into her horses eyes, searching for an answer. Just the usual calm and concentrated look. * So, if the Spirits of our ancestors have already prepared my seat at the table in the Other World and your box in a stable... there's nothing we could do about it anyway, right? *Turns around to gather her belongings. Half an hour later, she has managed to put everything back in the bags and the saddle on Arian's back. Sweats all over as even this simple task has consumed much of her energy. Anyway, now or never. Leads Arian into the water, one hand holding the reigns, one keeping a grip at the saddle. Arian starts to swim towards the fall, pulling her through the water. As they approach the passage, she feels a tide of fear. No. Fights back. She wouldn't spent the rest of her life running and hiding. Takes a deep breath and lets go of her horse, diving through the tunnel first. On the other side - nothing. no sight or smell of orcs. Looks around carefully after her eyes have adjusted to the sunlight. The rim of the pond seems to be undisturbed, no trampled grass or broken twigs. Pulls herself into the saddle and lets Arian carry her back on dry land again. No signs of trespassers. Leads Arian up to the stables. The door is not locked. Pushes it open and rides down the row of empty boxes. Arian turns right and steps into one of them. Glides down and feels the need to vomit from exhaustion. Falls over and out into corridor. Groans but manages to crawl to the box were the oat was kept. Lifts the lid. The smell seems to be fine. Reaches in. Yes, there was some left. Good. Leans the lid against the wall so that Arian could reach the content of the box herself, just in case. Gets back to the box and drags the saddle off her horse. *Sorry for the rough treatment, I-* Sleep overwhelms her again.*

[Rhiannon]

Soft but persistent nudging awakes her. *It's ok, Arian, I'm back... *Sighs and tries to get up. Feels too dizzy and lays back again. This wasn't a good sign. So there were probably only two options left. Staying here, probably dying or - take the risk and trying to reach Rivendell. Looks up to Arian. *What do you think, hmmm? How about Rivendell? Yeah, thought so. Better leave right away. *Finds her bottle, there are a few sips of water left. Feels a lot better after the drink and manages to back everything back into the saddlebags. Lets Arian kneel up and down a few times to fix the saddle without having to lift and balance it and to get on Arian's back. Guides her horse down to to lake to fill her bottles with fresh water. Now there was one decision left. Which route to take. Going straight to the west for the gap of Rohan would be the fastest but also the most dangerous way. The other option, going north first would be less risky regarding ork patrols but would mean that they had to cross the Misty Mountains. Closes her eyes for a moment. What if she passed out again? Arian would find the way through the Gap of Rohan all by herself but if they got caught, they would die. Going north first would be not that difficult and dangerous at first but to cross the mountains would be very exhausting. Sighs. Well, if the Great Mother had decided that it was her time, she would die anyway. Opens a bag and takes out her spare shirt. Rips ist apart and ties her legs and waist to the saddle. Pats Arian's neck* Off to Rivendell, my dear.* and turns west, towards the Gap of Rohan.

[Imrel]

There was no one else with her besides Rudigar, and yet Imrel still heard whispers. It had to be the wind through the clustering leaves, and yet, to the young Ranger they sounded so real. Gutteral, like orc voices. The chills of paranoia were prickling the hairs on the back of her neck. She knew this. And this irrational fear was gradually causing common sense to ebb away. This, too, she was aware of. But for a wary teenaged girl, such logic did little to stem anxiety, and quieten the voices.

She was a Ranger. She was not lost. She had slowed Rudi from a gallop to a trot to preserve his energy, not to give herself more opportunity to watch for landmarks. "I know where I'm going," she whispered to her steed. His ears twitched. Her palms on the reins were slick with sweat.

But to what was she going? As she approached the village, oughtn't she have started to hear the voices of its inhabitants, instead of those of the wind-whispering trees? Was she really so far off that she wouldn't be able to hear the laughter of the children? She was on her way to see her young friend Brem. Brem Swiftbark, everything fun and stubborn and carefree. This sense of foreboding shouldn't belong here.

In the old days she might have raced forward at the sense of danger. Now she was older. Experience slowed her step, and warned her to be cautious. So well versed was Imrel in the art of caution, in fact, that when she sensed another presense up ahead, she halted Rudi and stayed out of sight, planning to wait until the potential danger had passed.

But caution was thrown to the winds when she realized who the other horserider was. Rudi barely even needed a nudge to speed forward joyfully toward the familiar scent, and years melted off Imrel's face as it fell into a fresh, youthful smile, and she gasped out her friend's name. "Rhiannon!"

[The Witch King]

The gentle, dappled sunlight that warmed the main path through the woods, did not reach as far as the forest floor. Little grew on the damp, earthy ground. The murky light was too low for most plants to survive and the area was ruled by trees.
It was a forboding place at the best of times and seasoned travellers knew not to wander far from the path if they valued reaching their intended destination.

Below the level of the road, shrouded in gloom by the overhead canopy of tangled, inpenetrable branches, lurked a figure astride a black horse.
The animal lowered it's head, the white of it's eye visible through it's armour plating, as foam dripped from it's jaws. The rider, adorned in black robes blended effortlessly into the darkness of his surroundings and his stillness made him undetectable.
His very presence cast a chilling silence over the forest, a veil of fear and dread seemed to spread through the woods, silencing the birdsong and sending the wildlife scurrying to their burrows.
The black rider watched from the trees as first one rider passed and then another.
His interest was aroused as one of the girls called out to the other, excitement and familiarity in her voice. Curling his thin lip from inside his hood, he sneered at the sight of a joyful reunion, finding their happiness irritating and irksome.
Realising their attention was otherwise engaged he urged his horse forward, scrabbling up the earthy bank to linger on the edge of the track, still hidden by the firs as he watched from afar.

[Elven Star]

Elv had been taking the trip back from her home land slow not only because she didn't wish to wear Mel out long before she reached her next destination but also because she felt the threat of the evil stirring. She could feel it in the air, the ground and almost see it in the sky. She took the trip not totally slow but at a pace slow enough so that she was aware of what was going on around her. She pulled her cloak tight around her as she road slowly toward Rohan. She felt that some one was close, actually her keen senses told her more then one some one was near and she wasn't entirely sure she trusted something she felt in the air. A shiver came over her as she tried to way whether or not she shouled near the village that lay ahead. She knew there had been a village close by at one time but she didn't here the noises she associated with the life of humans. Deciding now was better then ever she dropped to the ground, soundlessly in order to give Mel a break before she reached the village. She heard the noise of the two rangers off in the distance and her hand went to her sword. She knew they sounded fine but sounds even for an elf could be deceiving. As her horse looked at her unsure of what she was doing Elv looked around. Some thing about the near by forest sent a chill up her spine but she thought it just to be the darkness and the evil feel it gave off. She watched in the distance as she neared closer to the rangers who were now well in sight to the elf. She recognized them immediately but she had learned well that humans, even rangers could be swayed to the other side so she kept back a bit. Allowing them to sense her before she approached closer.

[Rhiannon]

*Blinks into the light of the setting sun - pulled back from the dark downward spiral that seemed fill her mind by the sharp pain of a twig scratching her face. The rays of light dance on the leaves of the trees and the soft grass. Looks down. Arian is standing at a small river, drinking. The green water and the sound of the current seems to be familiar. Does she know this creek? Does it matter? Turns her head slowly. Mud. And a clear track of Arian's hooves leading from the rim of the forest towards the water. Something tells her that she should be alarmed. That she should cover them up. But there are many horses in Middle Earth, right? And only someone who knows her and her horse very well would be able to spot the tiny limp Arian has since a dog had attacked her left hind leg. Water. Good idea. Fumbles for her bottle. The water is warm and stale. BUt if she tries to untie herself she wouldn't make it into the saddle again. Arian has raised her head again and starts to step down into the water. Pats her horse and lets Arian carry her away.*

[Rhiannon]

*The next time she wakes up she recognizes the place she is. A familiar plane stretching out far beyond the horizon. Turns her head to the right: in the distance she can see the first tops of the Misty Mountains. Dunland. Sighs with relief that they have gotten this far already. But now, out in the open they are easy to spot. Pats Arian.* Go, my friend, go on. We can't stop now.

[Imrel]

Imrel felt her brow crease with concern as she urged Rudigar on. It seemed her fellow Ranger had not heard her.

'Rhiannon!' she cried out again, straining to catch up to her. She had an uneasy feeling about these woods and desperately didn't wish to be alone.

[Rhiannon]

She has lost track of time. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years or a lifetime ago? It doesn matter. Arian was moving, going on. Good. The soft darkness was so inviting. She is too tired to fight it, hoping that just staring at it might do the trick, keeping the shadows away a little longer. Short moments of consciousness interrupt the drift on the dark oceans of her mind. Did she hear water? The sounds around her change. Roaring thunder, a bridge? Soft mist falls on her hot face. Then, definately a paved road. The smell of the air... She knows this place, from another dream perhaps? Voices. Arian slows down. Someone shouts. The word sounds familiar. Rhiannon. A name? Then another: Rivendell. She remembers that one. A good word. Safe. Hands grab her, touch her. Feels a blade cutting through the pieces of cloth that tie her to the saddle. Finally. Falling. More hands. She lets go...

[Rhiannon]

*Slightly bemused she hovers in the corner of the room. Below she can see a bed. The person lying there is almost invisible beneath the heads and hands of the elven healers surrounding the bed. They talk but the voices are just a faint noise. She tries to get closer for a better look. Interesting. She recognises herself but the feeling of comfort, calm and happyness remains. For a moment she thinks about telling the healers to stop whatever they were trying to do. But on the other hand, she's just really curious.
Now she has found a better position to watch the scene. Most of her body is covered by light blankets. Only her right side and her left leg are exposed. The cut on her side must have reopened. It looks dark and swollen. Watches a healer take a small knife and start cutting through the angry red mass. Something dark and yellow starts flowing on the nice linen blankets. The healer proceeds to clean the wound. An apprentice pours a green liquid into the gap, then it is sewn close. Bandages are applied. The attention shifts to her leg. Something doesn't look right. It seems to be strangely thin and twisted in several places. Black bruises are all over it and blisters mark the places where the arrows had hit. The whole leg is cleaned and washed down with the same green liquid the already used on the cut. Many hands examine the leg and the hum of voices grows louder. Still she can't understand what they are saying. The sight of more knives and heavy instruments should probably worry her. Strangly, it doesn't. Watches as the arrow wounds are probed for any remaining heads or splinters. A third healer kneels down and seems to try to look right into her leg with a strange construction of lenses and lights. He seems to be worried but only shrugs and steps back. Then the attention moves on to the places where her leg must have been broken. She doesn't remember feeling any pain, though. Does feel concerned now as she sees preparations being made for - yes, that was the first sound she could here loud and clear. The snaps as the bones are broken again and repositioned. An apprentice brings more bandages, some padding and a few rods and shoots. A cast is woven around the leg, then the blankets are pulled over her body again. One of the healers steps up to her face and puts the hand on her forehead. He gives instructions to a girl. She looks familiar but no name seems to surface... The examination seems to be over so she takes up her position in the upper corner again. *

[Rhiannon]

Days and nights, dawn and dusk blend, dancing around each other and herself. Somehow everything grows more and more distant. Sights and sounds, movement of people. A faint white fog is cast over the scene. She still finds herself hovering somewhere in what she thinks is been called a "room" although everytime she tries to touch the walls or the ceiling, they move just beyond reach. Adrift, she simply floats on the soft thin blankets of air.

Something seems to be different. Another presence in the room. Bright and shining. The figure seems somewhat familiar but the radiant glow obscures any distinctive features. The figure carries something that it now holds out in one hand. Strange words come from it's mouth. She feels them more than she can hear them. A silver stream reaching out, spiralling towards her. She tries to move away but is already surrounded by what now looks an intricate silver net. Slowly. she reaches out her fingers about to make contact wi-

PAIN. Hot and searing. Why is everything so dark, what is that weight sitting on her. BREATHE. Cool air within her body. The pain grows for a moment, then subsides. A new sensation. Cool, soft. But what is the strange rasping noise coming from within her? Then everything plunges into darkness.

She feels - what was that again? Yes, a hand on her shoulder. Someone is gently shaking her. She opens her eyes. It must be day but the windows have been covered to soften the light. Slowly, her eyes focus. A girl stands beside her, smiling. "Hello, Rhiannon. We are very glad that you are back to the world of the living." Rhiannon tries to say something but her mouth is dry and her lips feel cracked. Instead, she concentrates on managing a small nod in the direction of a cup on a small table. The girl understands and reaches for the water. Slowly, Rhiannon swallows a few sips. Concentrating hard, she forms a few words. "How long?" "You have been here for almost three months." Rhiannon closes her eyes and tries to grab some of the shards of memories swirling around in her mind. She can see herself riding down a hill or a mountain towards a village. Then there's something about a fight. Something hitting and cutting her. She remembers the grotto and the hidden house. And that she had set out to another place. Rivendell. She opens her eyes again. The girl standing next to her has elvish looks but seems to be also of human descent. "What is your name?" The girl smiles a little:" Jalian." "Nice to meet you, Jalian. What has happened?"

Rhiannon lies back after the girl has left her. Jalian had been the one caring for her all this time. Apparently the healers of Rivendell did all they could to help draw the poison from her body and to finally make her heal. But something new must have been used to poison the arrows. Something beyond a simple orcish poison. In the meantime news of attacks on villages in Rohan had come to Rivendell. Orcs had swept through entire settlements, leaving no survivors. Those who found the victims noticed how they looked strangely drained and dried, almost like old wood. Some were examined more closely but nobody could find out what had caused their strange state. So finally word was sent to a wizard. About the dead and that there was one who so far was still alive. The wizard had come to Rivendell. Jalian had sounded very excited as she spoke of an old man in white robes whose name she didn't hear. Rhiannon had just smiled. The wizard was the one bringing her back. After she had rest for a while, tomorrow Elrond and the wizard would like to speak to her.

For the first time since she could remember, she falls asleep to be only woken by the birds greeting the rising sun.