In a dark cave deep within the Moria, an elf was sitting on a thin cot against a wall, a bag and lyre laying next to her on the floor.
She had long dark hair, pale blue eyes that, in the dim light of the cave looked almost colorless, and was wearing a well worn traveling outfit.
She was sitting cross-legged and on her laps she had a notebook that looked to be a bit battered and sported in the first page's corner, her name: "Lusseriel".
In her left hand she held an inkwell, and in her right, an ink pen. She seemed to be deep in thought, but finally, she dipped the pen in the inkwell and started to write:
“I was going to start by the date, like anyone opening a journal, but I can't remember what date it is, and I'm too tired to bother asking someone, so...
So... I left Rivendell again some times ago, with a message to a healer in Caras Galadhon. I heard that the dwarves were working to open the Moria again, so I thought, why not? And so I tried to go there, and was granted passage through the mine.
The message I bear wasn't something urgent so I could afford to backtrack if necessary. I wouldn't have dared if I had something requiring an urgent delivery.
Of course the Moria is barely reopened and dangerous, but all roads are dangerous these days. In hindsight though, perhaps I should have reconsidered. My curiosity will end up being my death.
The first part of the way was rather uneventful. I didn't meet with much problems. I followed a dwarf caravan until we reached the chamber of crossroad. That room with a broken well inside. That’s an accident in waiting by the way. I mean... Someone with little balance, poor luck and/or too much alcohol will end up falling down there I can just feel it.
There I met with a surprising company: Two humans and two elves traveling together.
Apparently we had a common destination. They too were going to Lothlorien, though I didn't pry into their affair.
I met with Erndis, Candath, Andrahir and Ilthirian. Apparently their journey had been far more eventful than mine so far. As I joined them to reach the east gate of Moria, I hoped it wouldn't mean the rest of my own journey would become too eventful.
The bridge between the second hall and the first hall being destroyed, we went to the twenty first hall, and then to Jazargund and then we continued toward the Merrevail territory and we found a path toward the gate.
I'll admit that the mine is magnificent. In a bad state of disrepair and infested with many creatures, but magnificent still.
Though, I'm not sure I'd have tried to reopen the mine myself. Sometimes it's better to say goodbyes and rebuild somewhere else.
In the 21st Hall, we met another man, though that one was obviously drunk. His name is Wyck and he is apparently... An interesting... person.
We indeed found a way to the east gate. We were attacked by merrevails and a few orcs along the way and I'm glad I wasn't alone on the path.
I didn't spend all that much time within the confines of the Moria, but I was never so glad to see the night sky than I was then. The mine is stifling. It's so obvious now that no elf should *ever* enter the mine.
We met with Haldir on his talan. That wasn't who I needed to see but as I needed to enter Lothlorien anyway, I could as well start by talking to him.
And as a result, we were going to have to go back to the Moria before going further into Lothlorien.
That's when I started to rethink all my recent life-choices. I almost gave the letter I carry to the marchwarden and left. I didn't, and I wonder why.
Another bad life-choice probably.
One day I'll learn.
We stayed the night in a camp near Haldir's talan. Echad Andestel. I thought the place very soothing, particularly after crossing the mine, but apparently not everyone liked it. We had somehow lost Andrahir when morning came. He was nowhere to be found, but no one seemed to find it worrying, so I let it go as well, I don't know any of them well enough to really say if something is amiss.
Tindollion joined us there, with news of another human being in the custody of the galadhrim.
Apparently my new friends and traveling companions knew the man. I'm glad they found him again without trouble, but I wonder what pushed them to go their separate ways to get to Lothlorien.
We arrived to the Shadowed refuge, deeper within the mine than I ever wished to be. I feel slow and ill and hunted like... Well, like in my worst nightmare of the first age.
It also affected Candath who started to balances between seeing himself and us in burning Gondolin and seeing himself and us in the present time in the Moria.
And when we arrived to the Shadowed refuge, Wyck decided to touch one of the ill looking mushrooms around the refuge.
He was burnt for his trouble.
Luckily for him he wasn't alone.
I used one of my salves to cleanse the burn of any residue that could still affect it, and someone inside a cave, Faylia, had a tincture to help heal the burn.
I dearly hope he will not make a habit of it. I haven't been a healer in a couple thousands of years by now and I have no wish to start again on that path.
Of course life mostly alone on the road ensured I didn't forget anything I learnt as a healer, and curiosity being my vice, I did keep updated more often than not with new discoveries made, though I may have missed some of them in the time I've been on the road.
But I really didn't miss being a healer.
And today was particularly bad I'd say. It's what pushed me to open a new journal. Well, not really a new one. I have carried this particular journal with me for a couple of years. Never used it for anything more than drying herbs once in a while, but I can't say it's new exactly.
Compared to yesterday, this morning Candath seemed almost recovered. The company of our own kind in the cave and the fact it's mostly safe played an important role I believe.
However Wyck was really looking sick, though he tried to insist he was fine and he joined us out of the cave.
Andrahir found us here. Apparently he's very good at tracking people. That or he asked the dwarves for direction once he found out we went back to the Moria.
I learnt from Faylia that the tincture she used yesterday was made in the golden wood to heal injuries. I hope it'll work as well on men as it should on elves.
When I asked Candath if it would do anything to remind Wyck to stop moving around and take the time to rest, he answered me that Wyck is "made of stronger stuff than you might think". I wonder if that's euphemism for: "he's used to attracting trouble and managed to survive until now so he'll be fine". If so, that's not as encouraging as he might think.
We were supposed to help two elves in their missions while we were here, so we soon left the relative safety of the cave.
I'll summarize part of our journey by: we got lost in the mine, and had to fight off some disfigured orcs and trolls and horrible spiders.
The mine should have been left unopened. With some luck those creatures would have all fought each others for food and died leaving the rest of the world in peace. And yes, we can always dream.
Ilthirian was injured in the process. A cut to the arm, possibly infected with something. And I remembered suddenly why I grew to hate being a healer with a passion...
She didn't allow me to check her wound then, but agreed to see to a healer later on, when we'd be back to safety.
After a while, I'm unable to estimate how much time though, this deep into the mine, the darkness seems to... Dull for a lack of better term, my senses, including my sense of time. Anyway, Wyck decided to go back to the cave, as he was feeling too unwell to continue and blessedly Faylia went with him. Going together, there's less chances that Wyck would just faint in the middle of a tunnel or fall down a cliff.
I hope.
We went further into the deep of the cave, and that's when things took a turn for the worst. Ilthirian felt unwell, which, considering she's injured, and we're in the worst part of the Moria we could be in... Enough said.
And Candath... Stopped seeing Moria for what it is, and started seeing it as Gondolin burning instead.
He started to run forward, leaving us behind, Andrahir and Tindollion managed to catch him once and a slap had him back to the present.
Or so I thought but he seemed to see something overhead and started running and attacking every orc that passed, telling us in Quenya that we had to evacuate the city and leave.
Which... in a way, is not wrong, we really should evacuate the MINE and leave.
And I could slap myself for not thinking about it before but hearing him speak had me speak to him in the same language, and to *that*, he listened.
Really, this is stupid. If I had still been a healer here and now, any other elven healer would have told me to seek a change of profession.
How could I forget?
Anyway, at least, the quenya helped ground him to the present, and I was NEVER so happy to hear Westron. To be honest, I don't quite remember what I told him, so I'll just say I'm happy it worked.
Someone suffering from hallucination deep within the mines of Moria is a tragedy waiting to happen.
I'm happy to say that after that we came back to the Shadowed refuge without any more difficulty.
Ilthirian saw a healer, thankfully not me, and Candath decided to go back out of the mine. And I agree with him, it's too dangerous. Shall he fall under an illusion and attack too big an orc gathering or worst, it would be all of our deaths.
His herald, Threnduil, will stay with us. I'm not too clear on whether he volunteered or Candath volunteered him but I'm not going to ask questions there.
We decided to take some rest here for the moment, and we'll go back out after a few hours.
Two days and already two of us are injured and one of us has to leave and go back to Lothlorien for health and safety's sake.
What other horror is waiting for us, I wonder.
Next time I bear a message to Lothlorien, I'll go through another road, I don't care which. It'll be nice. It'll be safe. It'll be full of orcs, wargs, brigands because that's the way my luck goes but at least it won't be the Moria. “
Lusseriel sighed and closed the inkwell, cleaned her pen on a tissue, and then put the lot together with the book in her bag, before lying down on her cot.
She needed to try to rest as well if she wanted any chance to lessen the effect of being that deep into the mine.
