“All things, fair or foul, comes to an end.”
The Guardians never had any pronounced leader, but if one stood out from the rest, it would be Amathdir. He was not the strongest of the five, though he could hold his ground against Danglir and Minvagor, he would eventually be overpowered. He was not the wisest either, for though he knew much, he could not match Idhrenneth.
His greatest skill was his ability to inspire others, to bring hope where none was to be found. He could rally the Guardians when all seemed lost, and even when they fell, one by one, he kept them in fair spirits in hopes that it would all get better one day.
The other four all looked up to him, for he was able to seemingly do all things, he could fight, hunt, plan and set traps. They saw him as a dear friend, an advisor and a guide. He grew closest to the youngest member of the group, Estella, who would regard him as a brother.
It was only those two that now sat around the table in Tinnudir Keep. Though filled with grief and anger, they still had the company of each other. They were not happy, but at least, they knew that not all was lost. There was still hope, hope of victory and of restoring Annuminas to its former glory, despite all the tragedy and death.
But even that would not last. Not for long.
The two fought hard to reclaim the sunken city. One day, they joined a group tasked with retaking Tirband, an area within the ancient ruins of Annuminas. The battle went well, for it was a surprise assault in the early dawn, an attack the enemy did not expect.
However, the enemy still had a few tricks under their sleeve. The light had not yet fully broken through, and under the cover of the darkness, men with crossbows snuck up. They took aim at the ones closest to them and fired. Amathdir saw Ran, fighting vigorously with a swordsman and not noticing the men in the shadows. He pushed her out of the way, but not quickly enough, as the arrows came whizzing at them. He knew there was only one way he could save her now. He stepped in front of her.
He was struck in the chest, and fell to the ground, gravely wounded, but not dead. When the battle was at last won, he was taken back to Echad Garthadir. The healers could do nothing for him though, as learned as they were in the herbs of the wild and the bodies of men. And so he passed away that night. None except Ran knew the last words of which he spoke, and she told no one about it.
Ran was not seen for days, wandering among the ruins of Annuminas. She could not understand why Amathdir would sacrifice himself for her, an over-adventurous and reckless young Ranger, of all people. Why would he give up his life, with so much potential, to give way for someone much weaker than him in strength and willpower?
It was believed that Ran wandered back to Tinnudir in the dead of night, where there was now only one, sitting at the table in the Keep.
