S.A 1352
In the year 1352, during the month of Narwain, second age, Orneth's hope of being rescued slowly dwindled with each passing day. However, amidst her despair, Falchon had become an unlikely but cherished friend, and their unique bond of friendship uplifted her spirit. They spoke to each other nearly every day, and through their conversations, Orneth could sense that Falchon held her in high regard. In turn, she cared for him deeply.
As weeks passed, the lack of sunlight and natural nourishment took a toll on Orneth's health, making her feel weak and vulnerable. She was tormented by nightmares stemming from the visions she saw through Manyamë eyes. Some nights, she found herself running through a golden forest, its leaves ablaze with fire, with a shadowy figure relentlessly chasing her. In her dreams, the windmill symbolized freedom, but each time she was close to reaching it, she was grabbed and pulled back. Thankfully, she woke up before the figure could harm her. However, the dreams persisted, haunting her night after night. As a result, Orneth's sleep was restless and punctuated by her own screams. The dreams left her feeling fearful and vulnerable. She found solace in Falchon's company and sometimes reached out for his hand as a source of comfort. Often, she cried herself to sleep, wishing for an end to the nightmares and the return of the peaceful slumber she once knew.
A month later, a momentous shift occurred. Orneth awoke to a cacophony of clanging and shouting, as though metal was meeting metal. The piercing screams and masculine voices were coming from the west wing hall, drawing closer with each passing second. Suddenly, there was a loud thud on the ground, as though something heavy had crashed onto the concrete floor. The sound of clinking and clanking metal grew louder, and a burnt smell filled Orneth's nostrils. As she gazed out of her cell's small window, which revealed only a sliver of the sky, Orneth beheld an eerie sight. The once-blue heavens were now a sickly orange, choked with smoke and ash. Clearly, something was burning outside. She turned her head towards the prison bars on her right, but the corners and the opposite wall obscured her view. The sudden sound of approaching footsteps and clanging metal echoed down the hallway, stirring the air with a sense of urgency and danger. It was a sound Orneth had never heard before, and it set her heart racing with fear and anticipation. The footsteps grew louder and more frenzied as they drew closer, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of eldar voices shouting and calling out orders. Orneth recognized the voice of Haldanáre among them. The cell doors were wrenched from their hinges with a deafening crash that reverberated throughout the prison. Her cell was the last one in the west wing, and Orneth stood frozen in shock as faces covered in ash and wielding spears and swords appeared before her. One of them held a key, and they used it to unlock her cell.
Orneth was stunned and unable to react as the person in front of her beckoned and said, "We must run. Come Orneth!" She recognized Demdor, resplendent in his shiny armor, and watched as Falchon, newly released from his own cell, stormed towards her like a whirlwind. With a flicker in his eyes, he scooped Orneth into his arms and carried her out. She clung to his broad shoulders, burying her head against his neck, exhausted and weak. As they fled, Orneth caught a glimpse of flames licking at the small windows, stretching towards her with menacing intent. Suddenly, she heard a beloved voice say, "Orneth, we are here now. You will soon be safe." It was Feawing! Orneth couldn't believe it. Was it really happening?
As they burst through the prison gates, Orneth's eyes widened in terror at the sight before her. A sea of green and grey cloaks stretched out before them, soldiers and scouts from Rochon and Demdor's armies. But the ground was littered with fallen fighters, wounded and bleeding out. Orneth could see the war raging around them, soldiers and guards battling fiercely with swords and spears, while civilians fled in all directions with their precious animals and possessions. The sound of shattering glass and the roar of the flames filled the air. Through the inferno, Orneth glimpsed the banner of the city fluttering in the distance, signaling the presence of the Prince's army. Demdor quickly assessed the situation and shouted, "We must leave before the fire consumes us all!" Giril appeared with two horses and a large wagon, which Falchon swiftly carried Orneth into, cradling her in his arms. Feawing, Elarion, Haldanáre, Falchon, and a few other prisoners they had freed were huddled inside. Orneth gazed out at the chaotic scene, observing a long line of horses, riders, and wagons, all fleeing the burning settlements.
Falchon's eyes shone with intensity as he tenderly stroked her hair, attempting to comfort her. Orneth couldn't take her eyes off him. Though she had only heard his voice and held his hand for months, seeing him properly for the first time was almost too much to bear. She felt herself succumbing to his overwhelming presence, swept up in a whirlwind of emotion and adrenaline as they raced towards safety.
After spending over a year in impronment, everything had become a hazy memory for Orneth. The pain and loss she had witnessed had transformed her, leaving behind a new version of herself that she hardly recognized. Upon arriving in Eregion, she was finally reunited with Mannamo and Lady Lanyarë, who shared stories of the months they had spent searching for her. Orneth learned of the long and arduous process they had undergone, including facing friction among the eldars and the threat from the east that had caused countless obstacles. Finally, they had found some success when the soldiers of the Prince agreed to lay siege to the settlement of Caranhoth, where Demdor and Feawing had joined with the hope of storming the barracks and finding Orneth. Lord Naerchanar was accused of disloyalty to the old ways, but they lacked evidence to prove it. He had many loyal followers who still saw him as their leader, and the court ultimately decided not to proceed with his sentence. Giril and her brother Carvedir, along with Marilo and Simawen, departed for Harlond where Alcarinien and Mantaro awaited them. Mistamë had already returned home to see her parents. Meanwhile, Mannamo and Lady Lanyarë remained in Eregion, fueled by their endless hope and tireless will to find Manyamë. They had found comfort in Falchon, their long-lost grandson, and Mannamo beamed with pride when he looked at him. Despite their efforts to conceal it, everyone could see the bond between them, and perhaps Mannamo could convince Falchon that family bonds were worth fighting for.
All pictures are AI-generated from Microsoft Bing DALL·E
