S.A 2035 Summertime
Naerchanar took a deep breath, as if gathering strength. His piercing eyes flickered with intense anticipation as they bore into Falchon and Orneth, and the air around them crackled with tension, heavy with the weight of their shared past experiences. "Manyamë is safe now," he said. Falchon replied bitterly, "So she's just in another prison?" Orneth observed Naerchanar locking eyes with Falchon, the unspoken animosity between them palpable. "No," Naerchanar replied resolutely, his voice unwavering. "We have relocated to Côf Lingwimo, a remote village of traders and fishermen on the coast. It is rarely visited except by traders, and the barren terrain surrounding it makes it difficult for anyone to approach undetected. Oldaer, my faithful companion, is watching over Manyamë, and the scout and healer Demdor has also settled there. The dark servants and spies of our enemies seldom venture far from their masters, so I doubt that Falquando would dare to venture there."
Orneth regarded Naerchanar skeptically and asked, "You said Lord Demdor was a troublemaker. How can you trust him?" At the mention of Demdor, Naerchanar's face darkened slightly. "We do not always see eye to eye," he admitted, "but he was not part of the Prince's scheme during the siege. He only wanted to save you. For that, I am grateful. Without him and Lady Feawing, I fear that you would not be alive today. The soldiers of Eregion were merciless, showing no mercy." Despite the lingering tension between them, Naerchanar's gaze softened as he turned to Orneth. "You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, Orneth. I am truly sorry for the agony you endured." Orneth nodded, her expression calm yet troubled. "My concern is for Falchon," she said. "Is he safe here? His father wields too much power and is a merciless man." Naerchanar regarded Falchon thoughtfully before responding. "Falquando is not invincible," he said. "He has his flaws, like anyone else. However, I am uncertain whether Falchon's sword and shield, or your bow, would be enough to defeat him." "Defeat him? Is that your grand strategy?" Orneth's question was met with a quick reply from Naerchanar. The elf turned his piercing gaze towards Orneth and spoke in a voice that was measured and grave, "He recruits his own kin through cruel methods. He enslaves them with enchantments, seduction, and corruption, forcing them to continue his work."
Naerchanar's gaze then drifted downward, and he spoke with a hint of nostalgia, "I once knew Falquando. He was a brave soldier from Gondolin and was acquainted with your grandfather, Lord Mannamo. Falquando was once a loyal, noble, and fearless warrior." He then turned to Falchon and continued, "Your father's actions have caused much destruction, and he has inflicted great pain upon Manyamë in his attempts to control her. His jealousy unfortunately became his downfall. He went too far in his pursuit of power and made certain promises in exchange for his services. I prefer not to know the full extent of his dealings, but I do know that he has a master who is more cunning than we would care to know." As Falchon looked at Naerchanar and asked with a resolute tone, "How can we defeat him?" Naerchanar shook his head and replied, "I'm not sure. I have witnessed the destruction he is capable of causing. A two-man combat isn't enough. Perhaps if he faced a larger group, we might have a chance. I don't see how anyone can outmaneuver him at this point. He wields some unnatural power, and there are those willing to trade their souls for such power. Dark magic still exists." Orneth watched as Falchon's expression became more and more strained, trying to imagine what was going through her friend's mind. Naerchanar seemed to sense the same and said, "I wouldn't advise you to go after him alone, Falchon. If I were you, I would keep myself hidden." Falchon retorted, his voice filled with determination, "Watch him cause further destruction?" Naerchanar's response was calm but resolute, "He's just one of many. Sauron's army is expanding. If you want to destroy him, you can do the most damage by joining Gil-Galad's army. He will pursue you, but he is not as formidable as Gil-Galad's army."
Despite Naerchanar's warning, Falchon met his gaze with a determined look and spoke with conviction, "This is personal. He's my father, and I will face him alone. If I fall, no one will grieve. It will be one less problem for everyone." Orneth felt his heart sink at Falchon's cold words, unable to reconcile them with the person he had shared the evening with. Naerchanar began pacing, his voice filled with caution, "It's not wise, Falchon. I understand your personal motivation, but I know him better than you do. I have witnessed his destruction and his envy firsthand. He targeted Manyamë to hurt her and her surroundings." The elf's tone grew more agitated, "If you go after him and fail, his retribution will be severe, and it won't just affect you. It will harm those you hold dear as well." Naerchanar then turned his gaze towards Orneth, and Falchon followed suit. "I won't allow him. He knows nothing about Orneth," Falchon said indignantly. Naerchanar's response was tinged with sadness, "You cannot be certain of that. Don't presume that he is unaware of your life. You are his son, after all." "Falchon, you are now called to a greater purpose. Your duty lies in following the path of righteousness and standing against the shadows that you were born into. You are a mighty soldier, and I see a bright future ahead of you. Victory and glory await, for you have already earned a formidable reputation and performed exceptionally well in your division. Though Falquando may come for you before anyone or anything else, his efforts to reach you will be met with difficulties. And if he does manage to reach you, he will be swiftly defeated by your companions in the army," Naerchanar declared with unwavering conviction.
He paused for a moment, his eyes softening as he spoke. "However, Falchon, there is no place for hatred in this mission. Your mother is tormented every day, and I cannot bear to see her suffer any longer. I love her, and all I desire is to see her healed and happy once again." As they walked towards the door, Naerchanar spoke softly to Orneth. "Orneth, if you wish to accompany us to Côf Lingwimo for safety reasons, you are more than welcome to do so. I know Manyamë holds you dear to her heart. But for now, it is time for you to return home and reflect on our discussion. There is much to consider. I will remain here for one more day."
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