Nim's scream rose beyond the tops of the old trees. It echoed in the palace, and reached Morath' ears. She immediately ran to her daughter.
"Roswehn!" shouted the Elf girl, kneeling down, with her friend's head resting on her knees. "Roswehn! Talk to me! Talk to me!"
The old human woman, however, gave no sign of life. Indeed, the wrinkled cheeks were already assuming the typical ashen color of corpses.
"Mother! Help me!" cried Nim to Morath, when she joined her. Other Elves had also gathered: all crowded around Nim, who desperately shook Roswehn's body, in a futile attempt to bring her back to life. "She doesn't answer! She doesn't breathe!"
"Stop! Stop it, Nim!" Morath told her: it hadn't taken her more than a second to understand. "... she's gone."
Her daughter, however, did not seem to surrender to that evidence. She kept rubbing Roswehn's hands, as if trying to warm them could somehow bring a spark of life back into the woman. "No! She felt sick earlier ... but now she will recover! It only takes time! Bring me a pillow ... I'll put it under her head until ..."
"Her soul has left the body! She is in peace now." Morath said, hugging her daughter. Then she turned to the other Elves. "Someone help us bring Roswehn to the King's rooms. And a soldier shall go to give the news to Lord Thranduil. He has left to look for his son ... go to him!"
"Noooo!" screamed Nim, who finally realized. "... the last time we talked we had a fight! She left before ... before we could reconcile! It's not fair!" She shouted, as four guards hoisted the human body and headed for the royal apartments.
"Nim ... listen: I believe that Roswehn has never had a real friend in her life. Except you. A minute can't erase what you were for her, or what you did for her, in her years here in Greenwood. I would have no remorse if I was you. " Morath tried to comfort her daughter. "It had to happen, she knew ... She left our world in serenity. She saw her son again, and the King. Please, Nim. Stop crying."
The elf girl leaned against a column. She brought a hem of the garment to her eyes, to wipe them. "The prince ... the King ... they are far away. They should have stayed close to her. It's so unfair!" She sobbed again. "Why must they die ... why must humans die ?!"
Morath put her hand on the Elf girl's shoulder. "Because it is their nature. So it must be, according to the will of Eru. Tonight we will light candles and burn incense as our custom. We will also have to prepare Roswehn, change her dress. Our King must see her at her best, even on her deathbed. Help me, Nim. "
Nim burst into tears again. Morath was also saddened by the situation, but unlike her daughter, she had long understood that Roswehn would have died in a short time. She was mentally prepared for an eventuality like that, and she knew she had to be strong even for Nim: the young Elf girl had no experience in death as she had had no experience in love, before meeting Hazel.
"The King ...his heart will break ... and Haldir ..." Nim continued, "... oh mother ... the prince ..."
"They both knew that this was the fate of Roswehn. It will be painful for them, but they will survive. I leave you alone with your sorrow, I know you loved her. But later I will really need you. Be strong, and as soon as you can, please reach me in the cave of the King." Her mother told her, and then headed for the royal quarters.
Nim went out, on the terrace. The sight of the wooden statue threw her into discomfort. "It's all over. Your memories, what you saw on your travels, the sensations you felt. Everything disappeared, it is gone forever." Nim said to herself, and suddenly realized the true meaning of mortality. The end, a black vortex that engulfed what had once been life.
Nothingness, forever. What the Elves had been spared.
She was very worried about the King's reaction. Thranduil, years before, had returned to happiness with Roswehn, after having cried for his Queen for centuries. How would he face a new loss, a new blow to his heart? Would he have had the strength to continue to defend Greenwood, after having received the news?
She thought of her husband. She needed to be with him, at that moment more than ever.
"Hazel." She said again. "Come back soon, I beg you."
⚜️⚜️⚜️
"They have crossed the Mountains. Those cursed beings have crossed the Mountains!" said Goneril, as soon as she heard in the distance the growls of the approaching Orcs. "They must have dug underground tunnels."
Haldir approached her. "I'm ready to fight. Let them come forward!" he said, his eyes still red from crying. Goneril admired the strength of the elf prince. He seemed to have recovered from the shock of his mother's death. Or maybe, he was trying not to think about it at all.
"No. There are too many of them for the two of us. We have to look for a hiding place and let them pass by. They are not our target, anyway. Come!" She said to Haldir, searching for a spot in the forest full of thick bushes.
The two hid behind that barrier of bushes and peered through the brushwood. "They will pass without noticing our presence. We are upwind, they will not even smell us."
"But I smell them!" said Haldir, with a grimace. "Acrid smell of death."
"Silence." the warrior ordered.
Soon the creatures of Sauron made their appearance: first six scouts, sent ahead with the Wargs, and then all the others. The Orcs advanced cautiously through the woods, looking to the right and left in search of Elves. One of them surprised a fox that ran around the bushes and killed him with a chop. He tore off his head and brought it to his mouth.
"Stop that!" another Orc shouted, evidently in command position. "It's not time to eat!" he scolded the other with his slurred voice.
"But I am hungry. We are marching from two bloody days ..." the other protested, throwing away the animal's head.
"We'll eat later!" the leader growled. "You will eat the body of the King!"
Everyone laughed.
Haldir grabbed the hilt of his sword and moved forward. Without saying a word, Goneril held his hand. No, her eyes told him.
"Elf meat! Never tried! It must be delicious!" said one of the little monsters.
Suddenly, the neigh of a horse was heard. An intense and unpleasant noise. Haldir and Goneril covered their ears with their hands.
Even the Orcs jumped in fear. Everyone turned back. There was something threatening behind them. Something that those beings were subjected to.
"Let's move!" cried one. "Let's not make him angry! Go on with the march!"
The soldier sensed that it must have been the Nazgûl. He was behind the company of Orcs, he followed them.
"There he is." She said in a whisper to the prince. "Come on. Get ready."
"The Ghost?" whispered Haldir. Goneril replied. "Yes. Khamûl, the Shadow of the East. Stay calm. We'll see him at soon. Give me your sword." Goneril ordered.
"And why?" Haldir wanted to know.
"No questions, Elf. You'll understand soon, lend me your grandfather's sword. Take mine." She answered, giving him the golden sword and taking Oropher's. It was heavy.
When the Orcs had passed by, the two saw an imposing black horse making its way through the trees and bushes. Both noticed that its body seemed impregnated with poison: every leaf, the grass, every mushroom that was touched by that black horse, began to wither, or rot.
The appearance of the horse itself was not at all pleasant. That was not a magnificent stallion like Aldair. It was a sick steed, its mane was wet with a strange black liquid that dripped onto its legs and hooves.
But it was the creature who rode it, that scared the woman.
On the back of that cursed beast there was a figure in human form, completely covered by a cloak that seemed to be made of black rags. The cloak hood was pulled up to cover his face ... as long as he had a face. The hands were those of a skeleton, or so it seemed to Goneril. On his back, contained by a lining, he carried a long sword. That creature was a ghost, a spiritual being ... but at that moment it seemed terribly real.
Haldir held back a scream of fear.
They saw the wraith turn his head in their direction.
"Here. He spotted you." whispered Goneril.
Haldir got scared. "What? How could he? We're hidden!" He whispered in response.
"He can feel your presence, as he can feel the Ring. The Nazgûl are attracted by the One, they sense its call. And also by you ... precious instrument of Morgoth." she explained. "I bet your parents haven't told you about the prophecy concerning you, eh?"
Haldir opened his eyes wide. "No. What are you talking about?" He whispered, agitated.
"I would say that this is not the right time for clarification ... just know, that that kind spirit out there will do everything to put his bony hands on you, in the next few minutes." she told him. "And you ... you have to let him come in your direction."
"And what will you do?" Haldir asked her, confused.
"Me? Well, I'll leave you for the moment, Prince. Now show yourself to him, let him approach. And then, wait for my signal." she told him, walking away.
"Liar, I knew it! You're running away! You leave me here by myself!" protested the prince.
"You just have to trust me, apparently. Do what I said. You must attract him to you. And don't let him hit you with his blade. It is poisoned, it would infect you with death." having said that, Goneril disappeared among the foliage.
Haldir returned to look ahead and saw that the wraith had dismounted. He held his sword in both hands and approached slowly.
Haldir decided to show himself. He emerged from the undergrowth, holding the golden weapon of Goneril.
"I am Haldir, son of King Thranduil. Prince of Greenwood. I command you ... to leave our territory." he shouted, in an effort to look authoritarian.
But the Nazgûl didn't seem impressed. "Shut your mouth ... half blood ... you will be Morgoth's chosen slave ... my master has been looking for you for a long time." a cavernous voice hissed. That being had spoken. "Give yourself to me."
"I am not a slave of that demon! Get out of our Kingdom! Go away, or die!" shouted Haldir.
"Die? ..." Khamûl said. "You will die. And your death will mean new life and triumph for the Ancient King. Come with us." the Ghost said, trying to grab Haldir. "... of your own will. Choose to surrender. Or ... choose the path of pain."
Haldir, at those words, decided that the time had come to show his skills in combat. No one could tell Thranduil's and Roswehn Monrose's son to surrender.
He threw himself against the wraith with all the speed he was capable of, but Khamûl managed to parry the blow and reacted with another who nearly made the prince lose his balance. Immediately Haldir repeated the attack, this time aiming at his side, as Feren had taught him. He managed to hit the Nazgûl ... but his blade didn't cause any bleeding. That thing was a spirit, and therefore practically unassailable. He saw only the Wraith bouncing back, and immediately got on his feet again. As if nothing had happened.
Haldir attempted another attack, in the center of the Nazgûl's chest, but his blade crossed that immaterial body without hurting it.
He screamed out of frustration.
Khamûl seemed to enjoy the helplessness of the Elf and unleashed its counterattack. He hit the prince with a series of repeated blows of his morgul blade, attacks that Haldir managed to stop, but which made him step backwards.
Suddenly, his right heel met an obstacle: a root that came out of the ground made him fall. The golden sword slipped from his hand and ended a yard away from him.
He saw the Ghost grab his black sword with both hands and prepare to stab him.
"Don't even try, you filth." a voice was heard. A woman's voice.
Khamûl barely had time to turn around when a blade pierced his back, and came out of the sternum, right in front of an unbelieving Haldir.
The Nazgûl shouted again. It was a high scream that almost destroyed the eardrums of the prince. He covered his ears with his hands.
After that treacherous blow, something happened to the Wraith. It seems to twitch, as if prey to an uncontrollable spasms. And his body became ... material. He returned to be made of flesh and blood. He collapsed on himself, the black hood lowered to show his face.
Goneril shuddered at the monstrosity that was revealed at that point: that was the head of a corpse, of a mummy. A face with no nose, eyes nor lips. A sort of animated skull.
"Hit him, Haldir! Hit him now!" screamed Goneril.
The Elf jumped to his feet and the woman threw Oropher's sword at him. Taking a deep breath, Haldir raised his arms and cut Khamûl's head cleanly.
The being fell to the ground, and remained still.
Haldir stood there for a moment, then looked up at the soldier. "Is he dead? ...is he really dead?" He asked.
"Sure." she answered, looking at the body. "More dead than dead."
As soon as she said that, the body of the Nazgûl began to crumble. It turned into a pile of black dust, immediately carried away by a whirlwind of air.
The two watched that black dust spinning in the sky and finally disappear.
Haldir collapsed on his knees, exhausted.
Goneril went to pick up her golden sword. Then she turned to the prince. "Today you won your first battle. Congratulations." She told him. "Your first victim was a Nazgûl: remarkable."
Haldir ran a hand over his face. "You defeated him, you know."
"I already have many trophies, Prince. I leave you the glory of this day." she answered.
A sudden noise came from the woods: echoes of screams, roars, clamor of battle.
"The Orcs ... are coming back. They heard the cry of the Nazgûl. Be ready." Goneril told him. "It's not over."
Then a new call.
"It's an elf horn! Hazel! They are fighting, I have to go!" exclaimed Haldir, and threw himself into the thick of the forest.
"Farewell, Prince." she said.
Haldir turned around. "Come with me. I still need you. My realm needs you. Let's stay unite!" he stretched out his arm to give her his hand. "United to victory!"
"No. I leave you. I believe that you and your soldiers are more than enough to exterminate some orcs, here in Greenwood. You no longer need me. Keep your promise and let me go to Rivendell." said Goneril. "... I am no longer indebted to anyone. Let me continue with my life."
"... the life I decided to give you. Do not forget that if I had not let you escape from our prisons, you would still be locked in that cell. And I told you: whoever can fight must do it. Stay with us until the end. Later, no one will stop you anymore. " answered Haldir.
While they were talking, they had not noticed that a figure in armor was slowly approaching, hidden by tree trunks.
"You and I don't see it the same way, your heighness. I'm sorry, but for me the story ends here." retorted Goneril.
"Don't move from that spot. Or I'll make your story end." said the King's voice. "And this time forever."