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15. Wind-Singers Volume I: The Hunt; Cellindien and Ioristion search for artifacts in ruins across Eriador
Topic Started: May 23 2014, 08:00 PM (1,305 Views)
Ioristion

Prologue

"I do not require assistance."
"Oh yes you do." Findekano's eyes blazed. "I have told my emissary what to say. Lady Cellindien will guard you on your journey."
"And who is this emissary?"
"The Noldorin Prince commands that Ioristion be guarded."

And that is what the note stated. The two set out on their journey, assuming that this was the doing of Macalaure, although no one knew for certain. They climbed out of the Vale of Imladris, and gave one last look at the Last Homely House twinkling below. Then they rode across the heather, and down to the Fords of Bruinen. They followed the winding road through the Trollshaws. Ioristion was briefly noting ruined towers and other such places as they passed. Then they crossed the Hoarwell, The Last Bridge, and the leagues of the barren Lone-Lands lay before them. Ioristion was silent, and nightly meals were quiet. Ioristion would sing songs or attend ancient tales. They entered into Bree-Land, and sneaked past the places where Men dwelt. Then they crossed the silent fields of the Shire through secret ways. Then they crossed the River Lune. Ioristion was glad to see his homeland once more. They passed through the Mountains, and entered into Lindon, nigh to the Sea. They journeyed through many ancient ruins. "The importance of this," he explained, "Is to find objects or artifacts that can assist our efforts against the Enemy. Your students may find some things of use. There is a reason..." In time, they returned back toward Celondim. They came into its small refuge, and decided to rest upon a fair balcony near the waters of the River Lune.

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Chapter I: Along the River Lune

Memories... memories...where are my memories... He stood gazing at the river as it bent around in the direction of the Sea. There you are, my home...

"Well, do you see anything of use?" Cellindien asked. Her mask was strange. She had worn it ever since they left Imladris. Ioristion was stirred from his memories, "Not here, but above." Cellindien sighed.

"The Sea... it reminds me... of things long past..." Ioristion continued to stare.

Cellindien shifted uncomfortably. "A common feeling I am told... It's a restless sound... I could never sleep with the noise."

Ioristion sighed, "I think of ancient roads, fortresses and kingdoms, fields and forests... now sunk beneath the waves."

Cellindien twitched her shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "It's just as well. Some things are better buried..."

Ioristion continued to gaze, "Old Beleriand..... where did you once say you were from... Gondolin?"

"I was born there, yes."

"I never saw it. I was born at the Mouths of Sirion."

Cellindien laughed mirthlessly. "That would explain it, then! The romance of the ocean, lands buried by the waves... ah, the beautiful tragedy. You were raised among such foolishness... it infected you. I spent some time in those 'havens'... it was a relief to leave."

Ioristion became angry, but calmed himself. Cellindien watched him warily.

Finally Ioristion spoke, "A relief? I was born in a great Light.... my father tells me it was a Silmaril.... it is the only memory I have left of my birth.... that Light.... and you may not know it, but you have seen it. Do you remember that bright star that traveled across the horizon, many nights on our journey out here?"

"I remember it. What of it?"

"It is the Silmaril. Earendil has it. He travels the stars each night on his ship, Vingoliant...."

"Yes, yes, I have heard the tales. It matters not. Those days are gone. A jewel in the sky means nothing to us now."

Ioristion smiled, "Only the Aman-born, or those born in the presence of a Silmaril, can see at once in both worlds, the Seen, and the Unseen. It matters greatly to me. There is a truth that I should tell you, although you may not believe it... You do remember my behavior, when we first saw each other, in the Hall of Fire?"

Cellindien allowed a slight smile to cross her lips. "It was somewhat... difficult to forget."


"Here is the truth. I was not alone. I have established that I can see at once in both worlds. It may prove better for you that you cannot. The world of the Unseen is mostly filled with terrifying things in this Age. But there are few things that are good. I was searching in ruins in Eregion some time ago. I came across an ancient vault... Within that vault there was a staff, an ancient staff of rule. It was of wood, but cased in gold, and it survived the ages for this reason.... it was haunted."

Cellindien raised an eyebrow, but continued to listen. She believed then that she knew why this elf must have a 'minder.' Clearly, his mind had been touched.

"I found myself face to face with the ghost of an ancient High King. The same who scaled the Thangorodrim to save Maedhros from its peak. The same who perished in the Battle of Tears Unnumbered, trampled by an assault by all seven of the Enemy's deadliest foes, who I shall not name. He is Findekano.... Fingon the Valiant. I could not believe my eyes. I did not know how it could be so. He had perished ages ago."

"Fingon?! Surely, Ioristion, you go too far."

"I felt the same feeling. I demanded that he explain himself, and he did. The same foe who vowed and marked to hunt down my father and my uncles, all of the Guardians of Finwe the Great, was present at the Battle. My father's rival, Yucalwe, was close to Findekano as a friend. To spite him and to spite Maedhros, our foe cursed the spirit of Fingon, before he could flee to the West."

"He cursed him to be bound to his ceremonial Staff of rule until the foe himself should be defeated. Our foe does believe himself to be invincible. Fortunately for Fingon, the Staff was deemed too valuable to fade away into history, which would have bound his spirit to this world forever. It was placed in a casing of gold, but none among those younger Noldor could see him. He followed the trail to Lindon, and then to Eregion, and he remained entrapped within that vault. Until I found him. He was with us.... the staff I wore on my back in the Hall of Fire, was that Staff. Macalaure could see him, this was why he was looking in that general direction."

"It is not possible. A spirit cannot be bound after death..."

"I was reacting to him, and he was not aiding the situation.... I made the error of bringing him into the broom-closet."

Cellindien paced restlessly, considering his words. Macalaure was Aman-born... the words made sense. But they could not be true... "After death, the spirit is sent to judgment, under the jurisdiction of the Valar. It cannot be. It must not be possible."

"And who among the Eldar has studied the fates of those who pass beyond our plane of reality? Master Elrond alone? In all due respect to him, he has not died in order to discern the truth, and he is not Aman-born."

"And you, Ioristion? You have not died. All I have is your word that you have seen something. How do I know that you have not been deceived?"

Ioristion snickered, and patted the staff on his back. Macalaure thought he had not taken the staff with him.

Cellindien gave him a jaded look. "I cannot see 'Fingon', Ioristion."

Ioristion no longer appeared to be visible. There stood an ancient Elf with raven-hair and golden woven into his hair, an eagle of gold emblazened upon his halberk, in a golden cloak that appeared to be as if an eagle's wings, with a smirk upon his face, and mirth within his eyes, the dignity of his countenance upon his brow. The vision lingered for one minute, and then faded. Ioristion looked up, as if from a dream. "Not very talkative are you at the moment, my king. Perhaps that is wise.... for I fear what I see within her eyes..."

Cellindien paled, her eyes widening as her gaze mets Fingon's. "Fingon... brother of Turgon, my lord! I... I... see the resemblance... it is clear..." Cellindien trembled and dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and each breath coming in gasps. "No... no..."

Ioristion began to sit down to try to comfort her, "And now you know the truth. Let there be no more fear, or secrets, between us. We do not know what we will find within the ruins. We have to learn to trust each other, completely." Ioristion gently draped his cloak over Cellindien's shoulders, in an effort to calm her down.

"I... I cannot... you do not know what I fear. If Fingon has remained, then there must be others."

Ioristion studied her face... her eyes... he longed to see... he longed to know the fear that she was hiding...

Cellindien stared blindly ahead, though she reached up to stroke the cloak, running her fingertips over the velvet. "I... I was raised beneath a shadow that walked in the brightest day. I was fed nothing but lies, raised on fear. Death... death seemed a mercy."

"Pray, continue, do not cease to tell. You will free yourself from it."

She told him the story, and made him promise to keep it secret, that none in history may know.

"Be that as it may, it is clear that there are ways for the dead to walk once more in these lands" Cellindien wrapped the cloak about herself more tightly, then blinked as if realizing for the first time that it was his.

Ioristion sighed, "There are no such ghosts within the ruins upon the hills above. And these are the last elven ruins we will visit. Soon, we will be in the realm of old Arnor, and surrounded by the ruins of the Dunedain. Our people gave the Men of fallen Numenor many gifts, which may yet remain hidden in some ancient vault. But these would have come from Tol Eressea. Thank you again for telling me the truth. Now I have a truth from which I....I........"

Ioristion grabbed a hold of his lofty cloak, stretching it so that it did not depart from Cellindien's shoulders, and he hid his face within its folds. Ioristion saw darkness. He attempted to fight it, but he could not fight it. There was something wrong. He heard the trumpets, he saw the banners flowing in the breeze, he heard the cries of battle, the charges of glory....

Cellindien attempted to turn away, lost now that the truth has been told. Ioristion's actions caught her by surprise.

Ioristion continued to hide. He sang some of the ancient songs of war, of mighty, great, Feanor, all within his mind, he sang of the War of Wrath, and the glory of the Valar, he sang of the founding of Eregion, all within his mind, and then....

"Ioristion...? Ioristion! Are you well?"

Ioristion did not yet answer. He saw his brothers in arms, all young, younger than he, as his father taught them history. He saw Celebrimbor's Fall and their flight to Lindon. He saw the Battle of the Lune and the great Numenorean fleets. He saw the banners of Gil-galad flying, and Elendil! And the great city of Annuminas shining in glory. He saw the arrival at Amon Sul. Ioristion continued to see into the past. He saw the Council at Imladris, the resolution of war, the marching through Eregion, and the passage over the Mountains, the realm of Lorien before them, the construction of the bridge, and the discovery of their commander.... none other than Yucalwe, the rival of his own House. He obeyed his orders. The battle nigh the Entwives... Ioristion did not cease to remember. It all came to him as if unbidden, as if something, or someone, was forcing him to remember. Was it Fingon? He did not know. He saw it all flow past him as if a river. There was the unification of the forces in the heart of Gondor, the marching upon Dagorlad, the charging at the Black Gate, and the seven-year-long Siege of Barad-dur.

Cellindien frowned, quickly turning so that she was kneeling before her companion, shrugging his cloak from her shoulders. She remembered him hiding in its folds and quickly drapes the fabric over the elf's shoulders. "Ioristion!"

I will hide from it no more. I see the truth from which I hide. I see it, the breaking of the siege. My commander pointing his golden arrow, the charging of my company against the Black Gate."'

Ioristion began to see the end, the end from which he hid. He buried his face in the silky golden lining of the cloak. He heard Fingon's voice, "Do not hide from it." He took the cloak away from his face, and stared at Cellindien. Ioristion then spoke as he saw it within his mind.

I will hide from it no more. I see the truth from which I hide. I see it, the breaking of the siege. My commander pointing his golden arrow, the charging of my company against the Black Gate."

Ioristion revealed a sword from beneath his cloak, and held it sideways, resting on both hands. The inscription read as follows: "Ohta Túla - Cottolvar Noruvar ve lómë Anarello - Aurë Entuluva- Á Nán i Macil va Eregion"("War is coming - Our foes will flee as if darkness from the Sun - Day will come again - I am the sword of Eregion)

"War is coming. Our foes will flee as if darkness from the Sun. Day will come again. I am the sword of Eregion. We were the last regiment of young survivors of that fallen realm. We charged against the Black Gate of the Dark Tower itself in the heart of the Land of Shadow. But we did not even breach the causeway. He came.... he came....... And with one fell blow of his gigantic mace, all of my brethren fell into the abyss, and I did not feel the hand grab me from behind, shoving me backwards. Then I did not remember anything, until I awoke in Gondor. "I learned later that my father had sent my uncle in disguise as one of the younger soldiers, he saved me from suffering the same fate... but my mind was broken, until now. Until this moment. Thank you, Findekano. Thank you for teaching me the meaning of the word 'courage.''

Cellindien stood wordlessly, letting the cloak fall from her hands.

"And thank you, Lady Cellindien. Your courage to tell me your truths has solved a problem that has lingered for thousands of years."

"I did nothing."

Cellindien took a deep breath and stood taller, seeming to become more like the elleth that left Imladris some time before. "It seems that you have solved the problem yourself. ...But... I thank you, for listening."

"I will not be freed for long from its shadow. I do not doubt that I will descend again into madness. I am still half-mad, but half-mad is greater than full-mad. You have performed great good upon this day. Our problems remain. At least I know that mine are lessened. But now, I must aid in the lessening of yours..."

Ioristion shuddered, and took a deep breath, still clearly perturbed by his apparent transformation.

"How would you respond.... to the notion... of joining an order of guardians that would never betray you....?"

"I would respond by saying that I do not believe there is such an order. Prove to me that there is... let it be more than talk, and perhaps, in time, I will consider it."

Cellindien turned away and strode quickly away over the dock. "But enough of this. Ioristion. You have ruins to search? Then let us search."

But in truth, Ioristion did not change. He did not even know what he was saying. He blurred it from his mind and continued to believe in glory.
Edited by Ioristion, Jul 7 2014, 11:32 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter II: The Ruins of Edhelion

Ioristion and Cellindien mounted their horses and rode up the path from Celondim. He could see ruins dotting the distant hills to the west, but decided their search should begin as west as they could go. And so they rode up through the low-lands, the forests of pine dotting the lower foot-hills, and then they entered the pass northwest into the Ered Luin. When they paused to rest and feed their horses at Noglond, one of the Dwarves warned them: "Beware them ruins yonder!" He pointed across the Vale of Thrain to a Dwarven fortress jutting out of the mountain, "There be Orodrost, and behind it, Sarnur. There are wicked Dwarves and goblins living there! Do not tread near them." Ioristion nodded.

When they were rested, they rode up the cold paths beside frozen lakes, and eventually climbed into Thorin's Gate itself. Ioristion turned north, and he sighted a sight he longed to see: Elven ruins atop the cliff. They rode steadily, and when they reached the ruins, they found little to be found, and made their way around the path. Edhelion stood hauntingly before them. They left their horses tied to its broken gates, and passed into the main courtyard. Climbing over a broken wall, they beheld a broken, high, stair. They ascended it, and saw the remnants of an old building that was seemingly crushed by the mountain itself. Ioristion turned,

"We have ridden long and hard. This is one of the northern most Elven ruins still remaining on the threshold of old Beleriand."

Cellindien gazed at the ruined buildings: "It seems... recent... More so than others we have passed."
Ioristion seemed perplexed, "It is strange.... I do not recall the Enemy ever reaching this area....
It reminds me.....it reminds me of.........." He paused for several long moments, the name of Eregion under his breath,
"Let us explore and search for some sign to the origin of its downfall...."

They walked down the cracked and ruined stairs, with traces of moss on every step. They crossed the old stone courtyard and passed the eastern gate into the former refuge. They gazed at a cluster of buildings next to the gate. There were long tresses of white-colored, decayed leaves hanging from their sad windows. Ioristion shrugged,

"The dead leaves have not decayed......" He ran his hands over the once-smooth stone and touched the dead leaves, and moved along to where a gateway opened into another courtyard. They gazed at a faded work of art, a carved sculpture within the wall.

Ioristion rubbed it gently,
"Hmm.... what is this....."

Cellindien looked at it intently, "A... swan?"

Ioristion studied its features pensively, "Yes, it appears to be. But there is more to it..... There are golden, writhing things by its lower-body.... it appears to be standing upright, and there is something jabbing down towards its heart....." Ioristion rubbed his hand on the cracks on the surface of the wall, "The swan.... it is a symbol of Havens, of the Sea. Dol Amroth possesses a similar sigil, as well as Mithlond..... But the blade jabbing at it... a curved blade from above...... could this be...... Sirion......."

Cellindien looked at the image skeptically and sighed.

Ioristion seemed not to notice, "Then this settlement may have been founded by some who once dwelt in Sirion..... in reference to the Kinslaying....."

Cellindien retorted, "I see only decoration, Ioristion..." She paced a short distance away.
Ioristion followed her, and when they reached the other side of the gate to the left, his eyes blazed, "A clearer version, less-weathered. As if someone forgot to tarnish it....
There is a curved blade of gold twisting downward to the swan's chest."

Cellindien muttered, "Tis a feather... a simple feather."

Ioristion turned, "Maybe.... But why a golden feather...."

Cellindien retorted, "Why not...?"

They walked across the courtyard and up another long stair, and turned to the right. There was an entrance-way to one of the buildings. Ioristion
pushed and heaved at the door, but it would not budge. "Something has sealed it shut. I do not possess the power to look within....."

Cellindien gave him a half-smile.

Within Ioristion's mind, Findikano spoke: "There is naught in there you wish to see."'

Cellindien's tone became even more sarcastic, "You might try using your head."

Ioristion became impatient, "My head? You do not appreciate what we are doing, do you.....?
Alright, why do you not attempt with your shield."

Cellindien looked at him, "It is... fine enough..."

Ioristion laughed, becoming sarcastic: "Let us see the renowned strength of Gondolin attempt to burst the doors asunder." He smirked.

Cellindien stepped back to take a try, "If you..." *slam* "...like staring at gold feathers...." *slam* "... all day."

Ioristion laughed at her blatant failure, "Alright. We should continue moving along."

Cellindien stopped trying, "Well. I think it's safe to say that it won't be opening."

They walked past more structures with their silent windows, their somber red roofs and faded marble walls.
Cellindien sneaked one more look at the swan in passing by. They climbed a stone bridge that overlooked the vale of Thorin's Gate in one direction,
and the whole of the refuge in another. Ioristion gazed out over the refuge and sighed, "What a pity... this must have once seemed wondrous..... bright and filled with life...."

Cellindien gazed as well, "The stonework is quite impressive, at least."

Then Ioristion got a strange look in his eye, "I thought of an idea... one of the Dwarves told me of an old mine that leads beneath this place...."
Edited by Ioristion, Jul 7 2014, 06:42 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter III: The Silver Deep

They rode down the ruined stairs of the Dwarf-hold, traveling down into the Silver Deep Mine. They found a door.
Ioristion dismounted his horse, excited:

"And here is an entrance that may work..."

He dashingly entered the door with a flare, spinning his cloak around him.
He wondered if there were rolling eyes behind him, and smirked. They encountered several cave-claws. But then the goblins came. He quietly whispered something in an ancient tongue- and one of his creatures who had followed them in secret came out of hiding. It was a raven. It pecked at the goblins' eyes while they cut into them with their swords. They kept moving. They entered into a wide cavern with a gated bridge in its midst. They crossed the bridge and defeated more foes. They climbed up a winding passage of caverns, and then they saw a distant beam of light, shining on Elven walls.

Ioristion's eyes grew wide: "Do you see that?! A passage!"

They pressed forward, and circled the pillars in the center of the cave.

"We must be beneath the central tower."

They followed the passage upward, defeating more foes and pressing through more ruins, and they entered into an even larger cavern. Remnants of old rail-lines could be barely seen in the abyss. And there was a beam of light shining upon a cave-troll turned to stone.

"Now there is a strange rarity!"

Ioristion was more eccentric than ever. Beyond the cave-troll was the entrance to a small chamber of ruins beneath Edhelion. They were beneath the place where the mountain had caved-in.

Ioristion smiled, "Ah ha!"

He was gazing at several books scattered on the floor. They were old and weathered, but still readable. He sat down in the dust and began to slowly turn the pages of one book. Cellindien walked forward to run her hands over the swans' wings, a carving of stone that was lying on a broken table. Ioristion gently looked at the titles of each book.

"Fascinating.... a record of the settlement itself......"
Ioristion carefully turned the page of the book he was holding: "The Dwarves.... are attacking.... the guards....at the gates....... we must....."'

Cellindien kept moving restlessly, watching the passageway.

Ioristion rubbed his forehead, "This is strange..... the Longbeards are friendly to the Elves....."
Then he noticed one final word, hastily written: "Nogrod...."'
And before it: "Dour...hands....."'

Ioristion collected the books, placing them in his sack. "So this settlement was sacked by Dwarves of the same kin as they who assailed Doriath and slew King Thingol."

Cellindien seemed angry, "That's all you have to say?"

Ioristion was not daunted, "Now I understand that Dwarf's words, concerning the fortress across the vale from Noglond."

Cellindien noticed in frustration, "There is a harp there... elves could very well have been crushed here, beneath these ruins.
And you seek only books."

Ioristion became flustered at her incessant degradation of his character, "Books are very important! But I see your point..... these poor brave feas......
We should collect the harp. Wait a moment, what is this....." Ioristion pulled a perfectly-preserved flute from beneath the rubble.
"This has elegant scrollwork...... a fine instrument.... I wonder who owned it, who played it, and what befell her........ or him......"
He handed Cellindien the flute.

Cellindien seemed nervous and concerned to hold it, "I'm sure it is not so... so..."
Cellindien took it hesitantly, then immediately turned away.

Ioristion still gazed at it intently, "It seems older than these ruins.... as if it has a tale itself to weave....."

Cellindien ran her fingers over the flute gently, her hands trembling.

Ioristion wiped his forehead again, "We will solve this riddle in time. Come, let us run from this cave." He started coughing from the dust.
They suddenly realized it was very silent. All of a sudden, they heard loud, angry yelling, and a hoard of goblins began pouring up the cliff-walls from the abyss of the lower tunnels.
Cellindien was standing in seconds, "Run..."

They ran as fast as they could, with the sounds of their foes' voices growing louder and more fanatic. A book fell out of Ioristion's pack. He swiftly ran back for it, and ran as fast as his legs could carry, as the goblins all gave chase. They barely escaped from the caves and got out of arrow-reach from the door, for the goblins feared the light of the sun and would not leave the mine.

Ioristion sighed, "We must make for Sarnur at once!"
Edited by Ioristion, Jul 7 2014, 03:20 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter IV: Sarnur: Belegost amidst Nogrod's Shards

They rode back down the Dwarven road through the winding pass, as the mountains gazed horridly upon them. They saw a camp-fire in the distance. The Dwarf Vifill was keeping watch. Ioristion dismounted, "Master Dwarf, we have heard of trouble brewing...."

Vifill looked sadly at him, "In Sarnur.... yes.... they wounded me slightly, but its just a scratch....... be careful in there.... for there are many..."

Ioristion was not daunted. He wrapped Vifill's wounds in bandages, and then remounted his steed. They left the horses at Noglond and crossed the Vale of Thrain on foot. They climbed the height of the stairs to Orodrost. Out came the goblins, but Ioristion whispered something to the earth: "Andunie....." A creature of nature came forth, and it brought havoc upon the goblins. They climbed many flights of stairs. They fought several Dwarves outside.

"This is the entrance.... be wary."

They entered into a dark, frozen chamber that seemed to stretch for leagues. Several Dwarves and strange birds attacked them from the right. But the creature of nature was quick, as was Cellindien's swift sword and powerful shield, and Ioristion lit several pine-cones he carried in his sack with fire, using them as projectiles. He also had several beakers of strange substances. He would smash them on the ground and light them aflame. They found a treasure-chest filled with gold. Ioristion hastily collected it into his sack.

Then the cave-claws came at them with more Nogrod Dwarves.
Ioristion yelled at the top of his voice, "For Doriath!"

They cut their way through several foes. The creature of nature was scratched by many blades. Ioristion remained at a safe distance. They were hot and sweaty and the business of warfare was not very pleasant. But they looked at the corpses of their foes, and Ioristion began finding strange objects.

"They are carrying all sorts of relics on them."

They did not travel into the ice-caves, for they heard the loud roaring of trolls. They crossed through several scaffolds and mining areas, and fought their way to a great gate on the western-side of the hall. They passed through it, and entered into a vast, cold, chamber, with the statues of Nogrod leaders of ages past lining the road ahead to a great statue at the far end of the hall.

"This must be their great hall...... their leaders must be here.... Let us avenge the minstrels of the flute and harp!"

They charged ahead into the fray, but not many foes came at them. They fought several defenders by the rear statue.

"Fascinating... they appear to be worshiping this statue....." Ioristion studied the ruined statue at all of his corners. Suddenly, he felt an eerie feeling. He had remembered the tale of other Leaves who passed through these halls. He could sense it. A lingering darkness.

"We should not linger here...."

A heavy, Dwarf, boot was heard on the stair behind them. His helm was of silver and his beard was snowy-white and his armor was well-burnished in the dim.

"Their leader! Doriath!" Ioristion hurled all of his might into his staff, and the creature of nature followed. Cellindien swiped mightily with her blade and knocked the Dwarf backward with her shield, and the creature of nature finished the task. Ioristion looked down sadly, for the Dwarves were the adopted Children of Iluvatar, formed with the aid of Aule so long ago.

But the flute that Cellindien carried was clearly paining her. Her usual sarcasm had fallen away. She faded in and out of conscious thought. Ioristion was oblivious to anyone other than himself per usual.

"We have done what we could. We should escape while there is still time."

They ran out of the great hall, and heard an uproar of drums in the deep, the sound of many hoarse and angry voices, and then he heard clashing: they were vying over the now-vacant leadership position.

They left the main cavern and breathed the free air once more. Ioristion smiled, "Come, we ride for Thorin's Hall!"
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Ioristion

Chapter V: A Long Time Coming- The Thunder-Stroke of Truth

They rode into Thorin's Gate and passed into Frerin's Court. Leaving their horses at the stable, they climbed the tall stair and entered into Thorin's Hall itself. Dwarves were busying themselves to and fro, but the presence of Elves was not uncommon due to the trading between their peoples that took place. The Elves would supply the Dwarves with fair gems and other objects of beauty. The Dwarves, in turn, would trade their iron, which the Elves would need in order to fashion various tools and other functions for their great ships.

They passed the gigantic statue of Thorin Oakenshield with its massive beam of light hitting his head, and beneath a high arch into the great hall. They turned left, for Ioristion knew the Dwarves of the Blue Stone Garrison. He had aided them on several excavations in the past. They climbed down the huge stair through the darkness. The darkness surrounded them. Passing down through the darkness, they found a great light. They entered into the Chamber of the Garrison, where light bounced off of many great, tall, huge crystals, and it appeared as if daylight within. They passed beneath the arch and entered, and sat across from each other at a table near the rear of the chamber. The few Dwarves who were there walked off, giving the Elves some measure of privacy. They would rather drink at the tavern in the inn, and so they left. They were alone, with the torches burning. And the light of the crystal enveloping them in their radiance. Ioristion removed his hot head-wrapping, revealing the rest of his sweaty face.

Cellindien looked at him across the table, hood still in place.

Ioristion smirked tiredly, "Well, that was a strange journey. At least we have thwarted their plans."

Cellindien did not bat an eye, "For the moment."

Ioristion sighed, "With their leader felled, they will be scattered and confused." There was one more Dwarf in the garrison-chamber. Ioristion beckoned to him, whispered something in his ear, and handed him a note. Then the Dwarf nodded gravely and left. Ioristion pointed at him as he left, "And they will finish it."

Cellindien continued gravely, "It won't make any difference over time. Surely you must know that by now.
The graves we have treaded on should have been proof enough of that."

Ioristion looked at her, "You do not see any hope, do you......."

Cellindien looked away, angry. "What hope can there be? Every day, we are less. Everything is broken, or breaking. And still you prance about, poking your nose into things that should have been left alone..."

Ioristion now began to become incensed, "Broken? I do not break so easily!"

Cellindien laughed harshly, "Oh?"

Ioristion shed his outer cloak, revealing the gold beneath.

Cellindien was not daunted, "I care not what armor or cloaks you where, enchanted though they may be. You are broken within them. I think you know that as well as I do."

Ioristion also was not daunted, "Explain how I am so broken."

Cellindien did not relent, "Your mind is broken, Ioristion. You have lost touch with the past. You live in your own world... indeed, you wonder where your friends have gone... this, Macil? Was it? Where is he, Ioristion?"

The name silenced the heart of Ioristion, with the darkness of uncertainty beginning to choke him. "Why he... he.... he..................."

Cellindien still did not relent, "Do you truly not know? Or are you simply hiding it away, because you cannot face the truth?"

Ioristion's mind began to work against his will. He saw the causeway before Barad-dur.
"No....no....I will not believe it! It is an Enemy's lies! I will not believe it! There was only glory! The banners flowing in the breeze, the sounding of the trumpets, the rousing speeches, the gloriously shining armor! The brandished swords and mighty shields......."

Cellindien jumped to her feet, "There is no glory!!!"

Ioristion began to collapse, and struggled to retort. The shadow was all around him now. "No.... there...............there.........."
Then Sauron swung the mace, bodies falling in all directions. A huge eye, lidless and wreathed in flame, came after him. Ioristion howled in
anger, and every ounce of his energy went into it. He drew his sword and attempted to stab the Eye, his blade piercing his foe, but his foe merely mocked him, laughing at him.
The sword broke the vision, falling to the floor with a clang.

He fell with the sword onto the bench of the table, clinging to it wretchedly.

Cellindien watched him, eyes wild with anger and pain, repeating herself: "There is no glory!"

Ioristion muttered and rambled, his voice struggling to speak, '"No...............no...................."'

And then the vision shifted: he saw Macil on his deathbed in the Houses of Healing, the one image his mind suppressed for centuries.

Cellindien stood there, shaking: "It hurts, does it not? It's about time you remembered... we can't all run. We can't all conveniently forget..."

Ioristion began to speak as if suffering from deeper madness, "....Macil..........dead......" Tears streamed down his cheek.

Cellindien straightened, the emotion falling from her face and voice, leaving a strange blank. "I thought so."

Something awoke in Ioristion. A fiery spirit of Feanorian strength. "And thou hath made a mistake to attempt to beat the son of a Kinslayer! Now the table has turned, let us hear of Gondolin, oh yes......!"

Cellindien did not flinch, staring up at him: "What of Gondolin? Would you like to hear about the death that occurred there? The destruction? Of the elf who held this?"
She drew the flute out and held it out to him.

Ioristion's voice became unnatural and mocking, his voice sounding not unlike Yucalwe in his perturbed moods, "You are hiding. You are running. You are fleeing. Luingil, spectre of your past! He haunts you, tearing at you, this is why you despair!"
Then Ioristion laughed mockingly, grabbed the flute, noticing an inscription of the Fountain in the forbidden tongue.

He laughed, raising it toward the Heavens, pointing toward the northwest, madly undoing his words of vengeance for Doriath in Sarnur: "Did you hear that, King Thingol! Did you hear that? Va! I sayeth, where art thou fair forest realm beneath the waves, and here I stand! Va! And here I sought to avenge a realm that banished by Tongue and despised my fathers. Oh there was glory.... there was honor..... brave Macil......... I will not yield him to the endless tears! I spit on thy Doom."
And Ioristion cried to the heavens with a fervor not unlike a Feanorian call to battle before a Kinslaying.
Edited by Ioristion, Jul 7 2014, 11:31 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter VI: The Flute of the Fountain

At the end of his cry, Ioristion reached out and grabbed the flute.

Cellindien fell silent, shaking with barely suppressed rage. "Give that to me."
Ioristion handed it over. Cellindien took it, running her fingers gently over each part.
Her voice became very quiet, "The wall... yonder. Beyond it, what is there?"
Ioristion seemed distracted, "I see many crystals."
Cellindien continued, "Beyond them... a gap."
She turned and walked quickly to the wall, looked up over it, then threw the flute over it with all her strength.
Ioristion fumed, "You...... have no respect........"
Cellindien began beating her fists against the wall, tears running down her face.
Ioristion became worse, "Do you not know what Makalaure could have done to you, when he found you in Sirion?!"
Cellindien cried out, "Oh, I know! Better that he had!"

And then Findekano revealed himself to both their eyes in a fiery blaze. "Enough!"'
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:09 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter VII: The High-King and the Guardian

The force of the shock of Findekano's sudden apparition knocked Ioristion backward on the floor.
Cellindien dropped onto her knees, but she kept her eyes on Findekano.

Findekano was glowing in his white robes: "I have watched you both through all of this. You are far too much like Yucalwe, Ioristion! Blind, caught-up in his own pettiness and schemes, attempting to lie as the Enemy would lie when his own being is incapable of lieing. You have fled from Truth for centuries. I attempted to help you gently, but you would not listen. Perhaps some time locked in a broom-closet......"

His voice became calm, and he spoke more gently to Cellindien: "And you, my dear, are also ruled by past fears. But the past is long since over. You must find a way to heal..........."

Cellindien remained obstinate, "I cannot heal. I am broken by lies - defined by them. There is no healing except in death. And that is denied to me."

Findekano bowed his ghostly head, "My dear, do you not think I once heard such thoughts within my fea? I loved Maedhros Nelyafinwe.....we became as if brothers....... and when his father burned the ships, I began to doubt...... I had lead forces into battle.... I had misperceived the situation.....Telerin Elves died because of -my- impatience, thus was I branded Kinslayer..... I ascended the Thangorodrim's mighty-peak and saved him, only for him to fall into a fiery abyss........... And I dared to hope, I dared to defy destiny, I took Thorondor's timely arrival as a sign of favor, emboldened, as if Manwe himself had revoked the Doom....... and then I was surrounded by seven Balrogs and Gothmog chopped me down........."

Cellindien noted, "And you escaped."

But Findekano was not yet finished, "And was it over? When the fell spirit of the Enemy came, cursing my fea, barring Mandos' words from reaching my ears, cursing me to be bound to the fate of this lowly stick and its ashes should it fail to remain in whole! Do you not know, if this is destroyed, I will be trapped in Arda till the end of Time itself........ But it is not over. I hold no pity for myself. Was I angered? Of course I was. My spirit was flaming in the thought of battle during the entire journey, dragged through Ossiriand and across Eriador and deep down into that dark vault in Eregion........"

Cellindien remained silent.

Findekano smiled, "But in the darkness....... the darkness that had seemed eternal......... I found light..... I found hope....... As I came to long for and think of and appreciate the world I no longer could see............ When Ioristion found me, I was blissful, even to merely see the light of the sun..... the leaves of the trees blowing in the wind....... the sound of birds........... My anger was gone. I left it behind in the vault. I hope never to find it again. If this attitude you maintain, the Enemy will surely slay you...... and should you find the foe, yes he who bound me to this stick, who is still out there, raging in the East.......... he feeds on despair..... it is his prime weapon......"

Cellindien shook her head, unwilling to listen to any more.

Findekano did not cease, "I was caught in a dark and lonely place. My comrades? Fallen. All dead around me. My allies? Driven off, severed by treachery. My enemies? Surrounding me in all their terror. Your great Fingon the Valiant, subdued by a phantom."

Cellindien looked at him, "That is the way of things. There is none who can deny it, or stop it."

Findekano continued to smile, "But I am not subdued. He never thought I would escape from that prison. He never in his darkest dreams dared to believe that someone would find me, and come to understand who I am and how I came to be there........ I have attempted again and again to teach Ioristion this lesson, and you have aided me.
By recognizing death, one may find life."

Cellindien continued to gaze into his ghostly eyes, "There is no life for me. As long as I live, there will be a reason to hide, and as long as I hide, I cannot live.
But if I must live, then I will not accept being toyed with again. The flute..."

Findekano looked around the hall, "Do you truly believe that walls matter, in the end? They are helpful, they are beautiful, but in the end, it is the fea that must endure. The fea. If the fea endures, then the fea has lost nothing. An enduring fea does not need to hide. There it stands, unbreakable. And even if the body is surrounded by ten thousand Orcs, it will not matter if the fea endures."

Cellindien retorted, "Walls protect. Your friend, the Kinslayer... if he lived, do you think that he would ever stop fearing the truth? That he would ever be able to be with others of his kind without watching every word?"

Findekano smiled, "I know one Kinslayer who has done precisely that which you describe. You have spoken to him.
And I am not referencing myself."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:09 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter VIII: Cellindien's Awakening


Cellindien frowned, "And who is this supposed Kinslayer?"

Findekano laughed playfully, "Allow me to describe him to you. Actually, since you seem recovered, partly, Ioristion, why don't you describe him for her."

Ioristion sounded strange. He was different. He seemed as if he was still waking from a three-thousand year-old slumber, a different Elf. "Very well. Cellindien, I am sorry for my previous words, they were ill-chosen. I know not what came over me............. Macil is in the Undying Lands. I accept that fact now. The Dark Lord ripped any sense of glory or honor away. And now he has returned. But I will not allow that blood to have been shed for nothing. The second son of Feanor had long, golden-brown hair, the strongest voice in all the world, and the most beautiful, but his long tresses turned raven-black when his father forced him to take his Oath. Even still, his tresses glimmered in the moonlight. His first name was Canafinwe. His Sindarin name was Maglor............................................................................................................................................................and his Mother-Name is................Macalaure.......................
Was he alert? Yes. He was pensive, on that evening in the Hall of Fire. He seemed nervous. But if he truly -feared- this, then he would not have conversed among us. Laurefinde told me of how he was when he was found along the shores of the Sea, far worse than the well-mannered Elf we conversed with."

Cellindien tensed as he spoke. She can guess, can recognize the reference to the voice. There is only one elf whose voice has truly touched her. An elf with a laugh like nothing she had ever heard.

Ioristion continued, "And my father took a sacred affirmation to bring him back to Aman. My House is stained with failure, Cellindien. Auruiron could not hold him back from the Second Kinslaying, and he fought him in the aftermath of the Third. And still he loved him, and still, and he forced all of us to remain behind. Thus was I raised on the shores of the Gulf of Lhun in the shadow of the lost."

Cellindien remained tense, "Then why?! Why? How can he live free? It is not fair... why is it that a Kinslayer may find peace, but I cannot?"

Ioristion sighed, "You are your own jailor, Cellindien. As I was my own jailor. But your taunting and goading loosened the locks, your final roar broke them, unlocking the cell.
Luingil is dead. He will never harm you again." Ioristion appeared undaunted, and took one step toward her.

Cellindien stood steadfast, "Luingil has broken me."

Ioristion did not relent, "Luingil is dead. He will never harm you again!" He took another step.
His voice grew in power and focus.
"Luingil is dead. He will never harm you again!" Ioristion did not relent.

Cellindien stepped back against the wall and flinched. "He is dead. What more do you want from me...?"

And still, Ioristion was relentless, "You are more than a soldier of Gondolin. Break free."

Cellindien was breaking, "I cannot. If I could... I would have... I tried..."

Ioristion thundered, "You are more than a soldier of Gondolin. Break free."

Cellindien defied him, "I cannot!"

Ioristion remained undaunted, "You are more than a soldier of Gondolin! Break free!"
He quickly braced himself, pressing his boot into the ground, sensing the onset of a storm.
Cellindien suddenly lunged forward, both hands going to his shoulders and a foot shooting out to sweep Ioristion's out from under him.
Ioristion hastily regained his balance, attempting to grab her shield.

He struggled against the weight of her strength, but yelled, "You are more than a soldier of Gondolin! Break free!"
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:09 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter IX: The Reconciliation of Sister and Brother

A strength emerged in Ioristion's grip, a strength he had not felt in centuries. He tossed the shield across the floor. "And I am more than a soldier of Eregion!"
He drew his own sword, tossing it across the floor. It landed on the shield, as if in unity. Cellindien struggled against him, but the strength seems to be drained from her and she could not stop Ioristion from taking the shield. She lost her balance and staggered forward, falling. Ioristion caught her, swiftly enveloping her in a strong embrace.

Shock and uncertainty enveloped Cellindien, "...What am I...? If I am not Finlos... who am I?"

And Findekano smiled, "You are Cellindien, daughter of the Noldor. A daughter and a soldier. The soldier may put away the sword and cast down the shield, remaining with them. The daughter may live life to the fullest without her blade."

Cellindien managed to say, "I hope so."

Ioristion still held the embrace, stretching his head over her shoulder, with tears streaming down his cheek, "You are my sister. You have found me in the darkness. Now let me, your brother, find you!"'

Cellindien cried aloud, "Brother...." She sobbed and wrapped her arms around Ioristion, clutching to him as if afraid that she would be dragged away.
Ioristion grabbed a fold of his cloak, spreading it around her, his other hand grabbing it. The soothing feeling. He had forgotten it in the midst of his pain. But now his pain was a distant memory, "Now I have found you.... and no one shall ever drag you away...." Cellindien placed her head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat. It was solid... a sound she could barely remember... only in the deepest memory. Cellindien seemed to shiver, "I had a brother, once."
Ioristion calmed her, warmly relaxing her in their embrace: "You told me...... and it was not you who killed him. And we will meet him, one day, when we cross into the West..... you are no more guilty for his sake than I...I...am for Macil....... But we will see them again.......... I have never felt such peace for hundreds of years until this moment......"

Cellindien shook her head, "You are right. I would not have killed him. We were together... our fea'r entwined."
She echoed his words, "Yes... we will see them again." She lifted up her head, and smiled, "I feel strange. Like air... light."

Findekano smiled, knowing it would be true. For he himself had seen the spirit of Nelyafinwe. Ioristion looked up, as Findekano removed himself from sight once more.
Ioristion smiled, "A great burden is lifted from our shoulders."

Cellindien smiled, "I feel... that I should like to see the stars, again..." She released Ioristion and took a few steps away. "Will you join me?"
Ioristion's face was beaming, "We shall, my sister... we shall..."

And when they walked up the hallowed stairs, and out through the main gates, they found the Sun had risen.

Cellindien stepped outside and slowly pulled back her hood.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:09 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter X: To Elven-Lands

They walked down to the stables in the light of the morning sun. They did not fear the shadows. They were left behind in the depths. They mounted their horses and rode away from the cold lands, down the road that seemed so grim. But now it was shining, sparkling, and the sky was clear and blue, cloudless and bright. They passed around the shining curves, past the vale, past Sarnur, and out into the Low-Lands, where the trees were green and smelt of pine. The city of Gondamon with its many spires came into sight. They rested there and ate sparingly, and then set out again. They rode down the path of light, leaving the fir-forests behind, veering to the right when the rode wound down to Kheledul, with the distant hills of Evendim sleeping on the horizon. They turned and passed into the hills, noting Duillond and Dol Ringwest, places to explore. But Ioristion was driven. There was a special place he wished to go. They rode down and across the stone bridge, and then avoiding the main harbor of Celondim, they crossed the hills around it, passing south next to a ruined tower, before dismounting in front of a small bridge of stone. They crossed it, and beheld a wondrous sight. There were tall green trees veiled within this glade by even larger ones, and the cherry-blossoms were in bloom.

"My dear sister... we have come full circle from where we began our venture into the mountains. I will hide from my past no longer. Ah... this is a fair glade...."
He searched his sack for something, to no avail.

Cellindien laughed. "You may dwell in the present, but you have lost none of your flair for the dramatic... what are you looking for?"

Ioristion smiled slowly, "For solace.... for peace.... we both have much to learn before we may continue our task, do we not?" His sarcasm was not biting, and his voice was gentle.

Cellindien smirked, "Speak for yourself. My task is simple enough, though you seem inclined to make it quite tasking."
The words were the same as always, but her tone was now teasing, rather than scornful. She sighed and walked slowly about the glade, breathing in the fresh air.

Ioristion smiled. "If you are going to be more than a soldier of Gondolin, you will need to learn how to relax.... to feel pleasure...... Now, despite my issues, I dare say I have become a master at it....." He searched his sack again. "Oh, how did I run out of wine. Did some Nogrod or goblin take it? Come, my sister, we may yet accomplish several of our aims at once."
His smile widened, and his eyes appeared to glitter. He also spoke with a slight hint of teasing playfully.

Cellindien turned, "Relax, you say... and then 'Come.' Half a minute."

Ioristion sighed, "Oh, very well. The nerves do need to calm themselves."

Ioristion sat on the bench and appeared to meditate.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:09 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XI: In the Glade of The Stars

Cellindien knelt down to retrieve something from the ground, cupping it in her hands and examining it.
She cleared her throat, holding out a leaf in the palm of her hand. "Do you recognize it?"

Ioristion gazed at the leaf strangely.

Cellindien showed the leaf of a lesser healing plant, commonly kept in pots. "I do not think it grows here. The swans, with the golden feathers?
Perhaps they had the same origins."

Ioristion began to laugh, sensing something afoot. It was the first time in ages he realized he did not know something.

Cellindien frowned, looking uncertain. "Why do you laugh?"

Ioristion tried to calm himself, grinning widely: "What does a healing plant, commonly kept in pots, have to do with a swan with golden feathers?"

Cellindien sighed in frustration and turns away, tossing the leaf on to the ground. "...I saw them both in Sirion. I thought you might find it interesting."

Ioristion reached down and took the leaf, "Forgive me, my dear sister. I was too young to remember and did not know......... a plant from Sirion within this grove....... this is strange........"

Cellindien still looked uncertain and not entirely at ease with the subject matter. "...It is not so very strange... my foster family traveled this way from Sirion."

Ioristion smiled slowly, "Then you should treasure it." Ioristion came close, kissing her on the cheek- a sign of respect. It was the sort of kiss a brother would give his sister, or to anyone held close in trust. The last person to whom he had freely surrendered that gesture.... was Macil...... When he withdrew, the leaf was in the palm of her hand.

Cellindien stiffened as he came closer. Millenia had passed since she had been in contact with another elf. It was not safe, and though they had embraced that night in the dwarven hall, she both feared and longed for a renewal of that gesture. And she did not move as he kissed her, nor for several seconds as he withdrew, instead looking to the leaf in her palm. "...Thank you."

Ioristion gently stroked a tress of her hair, "Come, let us walk from this glade."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XII: In the Vale of Solemnity

They walked for several leagues, crossing the stone bridge and following the faded, winding path, up into the green hills, where the grass swayed softly, and the soft buzzing of bees could be heard amidst the flowered meadows. The path wound steadily upward and between a gap in the cliffs. The gap opened wide into an old vale with a large lake down in the middle. The lake was dotted with lily-pads, and its waters were clear and smooth. Small leaves fell from the cherry-blossom trees that dotted the vale. There were small bundles of wood gathered for the making of casks and barrels. They climbed down into the vale, and Ioristion sighted a familiar set of flat, large cluster of rocks, with a big one at the top. They climbed the rock, and stood there for what seemed an eternity, motionless.

Finally, Ioristion broke the silence, "This was once a magnificent balcony, with domes and towers. The fair lake lapped softly beneath its walls."

Cellindien continued to stare at the solemn waters, "Did you see it then?"

Ioristion sighed, "Yes. I would often stand and meditate, leaning over the railing at this spot."

Cellindien looked around, "What became of it...? What became of all of this?" She spread her hands out to include the entire valley.
Then her voice became more quiet, "What became of those who dwelt here?"

Ioristion gazed intently at the shifting waters, the sun dimly reflecting through the lily-pads: "After Eregion fell, the Dark Lord's armies besieged the vale that would become Imladris. They also stretched across Eriador. There was a great battle down at the Lune. When all hope had seemed to fade, a fleet of Numenorean ships sailed up the river. The Enemy was routed, but at great cost.
Some fought at the river and died. Some marched in the War. Others still, I cannot say. But the buildings were more useful by the river, after the gorge was ruined. The healing took long years, but it came. They needed the river for the ships."

Cellindien gazed at the vale, solemnly: "Of course... though I had not realized the damage had been so severe... or that the ruins had been neglected for so long. I had hoped that more would return, but perhaps they fled, as I did."

Ioristion began to softly sing, his words becoming images in their minds, feeling the place. After countless long moments of contemplation, he turned: "Come, there are three more places I would visit. Then we will enter Duillond. We should ride. Our horses are grazing in the fields."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Chapter XIII: In the Shadows of the Lhun

They rode into the ruins of Tham Gelair and dismounted from their horses. They walked through the wordless walls of stone, their cracked surfaces yawning before the whole of the gorge of the Lune, high above the hills flowing down to the river. "This, too, was ravaged by the war. It has a strange tranquility to it...." They silently paused by an altar of stone that once served some purpose now unknown. Then they turned right, following the walls to an opening. "Ah! What have we here!" Ioristion was excited. There, sitting by the wall, was a vase of stone, within which were several old parchments.

Cellindien ran her fingers along the stonework. "I still do not understand why you find it tranquil... what? What is it?"

Ioristion's smile became smaller and smaller as he read through their cryptic words, "There are three strange parchments writ in an old script. The first speaks of its founding- a light-house for passing ships down on the river. The second appears to speak of....of....the battle...... The third explains the reasoning....behind....its abandonment........" He turned and looked at her. Her strands and tresses of silver hair, shining brightly in the light of the Sun, reflecting on the shoulder-pads of her armor and tunic. His smile began painfully, but the pain lessened during every passing moment in which he looked at her. He had no romantic designs, but a love of the same sort that his father felt for Macalaure. For centuries, he had served only himself, or the aims of his House. Now, it was different. He wished to serve her, to love her through serving her, to protect her. He treated her as if he was her older brother, when she was older than him by years. It did not disturb him. "I will study them later."

He stood alongside her, gazing to the southeast. There were mountains in the distance, well beyond the cliffs and hills that bordered Celondim's harbor. And he knew what lay across the plains from the foot of those mountains, along the Gulf that opened into the Sea. The wind blew and he let his cloak blow freely in the billowing wind. His heart throbbed as his cloak billowed as he gazed in the direction of his home, the home he had not seen in years. The cloak curled its way past Cellindien's shoulders. Then the wind playfully changed direction, the cloak billowing onto her shoulders. Ioristion spread forth his hand, feeling the currents of the wind, the force and pressure of its power, then tranquilly flowing with him. His golden-blond hair blew outward, cradling his neck. "Nigh those distant mountains, by the Gulf, is my home. We shall journey there, ultimately."

But then he looked down at the parchments, and his expression became pained again. He thought of the hordes of Yrch charging up those hills. He thought of Gil-galad Elven King forming the lines. He thought of their banners blowing in the breeze. He thought of their shields shining as the darkness of the East charged overhead. He thought of their swords, shining bright in the fading light. He thought of their spears, pointed, awaiting the onset of the storm. He thought of their bows of gold and pointed arrows, notched and awaiting their flight. He thought of their cloaks billowing in the breeze. Then he thought of their charge, and the loosening of the arrows, and the torrents of blood and shadow. The screams of Elves dying, of being wounded, and of Yrch howling in their death-blows as their black blood spilled from their guts onto the soft, green, grass, now trodden with heavy, iron boots, crushed, and suffocating beneath their marching heels. The black blood of Yrch meeting the red blood, shining like streams of trickling rubies, with the dim light shining upon their mourning, sorrowful streams, charging against the black, poisoned blood of their foes. It was the blood of the Eldar that made the land stay pure, washing the wicked stench of the Yrch away. But none built upon those hills, and Tham Gelair was abandoned after the Yrch had sacked it, and the vale beyond it. Ioristion had fought at the rear of that vale, when the Numenorean ships came with their hosts of Men in shining armor, and the Banner of the White Tree shining upon their bright sails of white, as they charged into the fight, and up the hills, and into the ruins and vales, scourging the foe.

But still the memories of their fall pained Ioristion.

Cellindien frowned, puzzled and pained by the memories the ruins bring to mind and concerned for Ioristion.

Ioristion sighed, "The battle raged up from the river on these very hills." He gently pressed the fabric of his cloak to his face, smelling it, its cold, smooth, touch comforting his pained lips, his sorrowful face. But he did not retreat into his cave. "Come, let us leave them."

Cellindien smiled fervently, "With pleasure."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XIV: The Scimitar and the Vine

They remounted their horses and sped down the hills, and they dashed across the river, the hooves of their horses splashing the flowing water as they passed. They climbed up beside an ancient tower, and looked outward. There were many fields of vineyards and ruined buildings. "This vale, too, looks sad. But that is not why we have come." They climbed around to the front of the tower, and Ioristion knocked softly on the door. An older Elf maiden opened it, and smiled upon seeing Ioristion standing there. Ioristion smiled, "Ah, Brethilwen. Your vintage is fine as always." Brethilwen smiled. She seemed to commune with him in a strange, unspoken way. She brought several bottles out of her storage, smiled, and gave them. He bowed. Their communion was a strange one, but Brethilwen did not enjoy speaking after her vineyard was sacked by goblins. Their connection was not unlike that of a mother and her eldest son. She kissed him on his forehead, "It is good to see you, again. I remember when you would come as a young child." She looked at Cellindien, "Oh... how...lovely....." She found it strange to see an Elven maiden in the garb of a soldier. "Be well, both of you! I will require nothing in return for this wine." She went back into her tower and came out with several vintages of red, white, and old Ossiriand wine. She hugged Ioristion and waved.

Cellindien raised an eyebrow as she observes the interaction, but made no comment.

When she closed the door, Ioristion whispered in Cellindien's ear, "She is like a mother to me, or at least she became so, after......after..... certain things upon which I do not wish to reflect happened in Eregion. Be calm, do not fear her. She has seen much pain throughout her life, as have we all. But the wine helps her. It always helps."

They rode up the hills along the cliffs, and Dol Ringwest appeared in the distance with its many ruined domes. When they reached the old fortress, a large number of goblins came out of hiding. Ioristion sighed, "Oh no........" He quickly called his raven and made his staff ready to strike. He quickly pulled a vial of pitch out of his sack and smashed it on the ground, and then he smashed his sword into a flint, a spark landing on the pitch. The flames exploded as goblins fled in many directions.

Cellindien was undaunted, "By the... ! Does no one here bear a sword!" She drew her weapons and stepped forward grimly.

They pressed through the ruined halls, slaying as many goblins as they could. But they seemed unending. A vase caught Ioristion's eye, with parchment. He grabbed the parchment, "Let us reach Duillond before they come back!"

Cellindien yelled, "I would like to see them try."

They ran fast with the goblins chasing them, and they charged down the hill into the light of the sun. The goblins fled back into their shadows. There were their horses grazing, and the two Elves mounted, and charged around the lake and across the plains, and up the path into the cliffs of Duillond. The guards were placed on the watch.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Chapter XV: The Star-Lit Bond

The two Elves dismounted, and climbed the stairs to the section of balconies and bridges. They looked at one balcony, but it was crowded with others. The Stars were shining in the sky. Ioristion sighed, "I think there may be a better view."

They climbed down the stairs to a balcony further to the south. It was very quiet and he was very happy, "There are our stars......"
Cellindien smiled, "Aye." She ran her hand over the rim of her shield. "...Brother..."

Ioristion smiled warmly, "...Sister..." He relaxed, drinking red-wine, remembering she did not want it the last time he offered.

Cellindien made a small grimace at the smell and shakes her head, leaning up against the nearby pillar.

Ioristion still smiled, "It is a beautiful sight........."

Cellindien nodded and watched the stars, breaking the silence after a few minutes with a question that she has apparently been considering for some time. "How is it, Brother, that you can carry hope for this land, when you see what has become of it?"

Ioristion unclasped his massive cloak, stretching it with his arm over Cellindien's right-shoulder. "Look above, my dear sister. And they will tell you why...."

Cellindien lifted her right hand to touch the soft lining of the cloak. "I see the stars... I even see the star of Earendil. We have spoken of it before... but perhaps... perhaps it is not for us.
I wonder... but even now, I feel reluctant to leave even these pitiful ruins unguarded. It is a mystery to me."

Ioristion smirked, and was not phased by her apparent lapse into her previous state of being, "Perhaps it will be solved one day. But I believe that there is still hope, for the stars shine. I have other reasons as well........ prepare yourself for a long journey south. I want to show you something."

They left the lights of Duillond behind them after they remounted their steeds. They journeyed through the night and through the next day and through the night, in awe of the landscape and barely speaking. They came to a rise nigh the Gulf of Lhun, and the mountains he had spoken of yawned to the east beyond it. There, on that rise, was the silhouette of a massive structure in the dim-light of the Moon. There were several wings to that palace, and a tower.

(To be continued- both players have consented to a storified-version of their in-game tale; the above-15 posts remain subject to editing until further notice)
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Chapter XVI: In the Shadow of Minas Noldorion

Ioristion lit a torch, and pulled out a sheet of paper, handing it to Cellindien to read. It read as follows, in the penmanship of Auruiron:

"This was built in the aftermath of Beleriand's Fall. It was modeled after my birthplace in Aman. Minas Noldorion consists of four wings, and each in several directions. Each wing consists of two levels. Each level consists of one main common room, and two circular anti-chambers. One of the chambers contains a spiral staircase leading to another chamber above. These Wings are connected to the Storage Chamber in the cellars on the bottom level, to the Hall of Tirion on the middle level, and to the Library, on the final level, before the Tower climbs upward for seven more flights from it, by L-shaped hallways. The Wings are vertical, and the common rooms as well, so that both the Hall of Tirion and the common rooms would both be vertical and not horizontal. All of these wings connect to one main great hall. Behind the Throne, in the Hall of Tirion, there is another gate, leading to another spiral staircase. This one connects to an upper level, which is also connected with the northern sections of the west and east wings.

The Tower continues upward to the chamber of Auruiron, which is circular as the floors beneath it. There are windows, and from which, the Sea can be seen in one direction, and in the distance, the Hall of Laurelin in another. These windows open up onto large marble balconies.

Extending on top of the Hall of Tirion is a great library, rectangular as the chamber beneath it, and thousands of texts are stored there. The two northern wings are used for resting, and the two southern wings, which extend from the sides of the rectangular Hall of Tirion closer to the main entrance-way, are for different purposes.

In one is a dining hall, and in another, a chamber where scrolls are produced. Between the wings are several hallways, and on both levels.

Beneath the Hall of Tirion is a large series of cellars, which have a layout similar to the floors above, but only on one floor beneath. The cellars have four wings and a main chamber. Here is where animal hides are pressed into parchment, and reeds are broken into scrolls. This is the southwestern wing.

In the southeastern wing, there is the place where the hides and reeds are dried. In the northwestern wing, great vats are stored, where herbs are brewed. In the northeastern wing, vast shelves containing numerous forms of flora and herbs are stored.

In the middle chamber, beneath the Hall of Tirion, is a maze of various supplies and barrels in storage of many things from armor and tapestries to wine and other treasures. Such is the lay-out of Minas Noldorion's interior. Outside the windows are many balconies, and outside of the main gates of the Tower, is a great marble courtyard. There is a larger balcony extending over the courtyard from the Library.

Another similar balcony is on the other side, and overlooking the Sea and shorelines. There are columned passage ways alongside the courtyard, with two levels and platforms on either side, and from this courtyard extends a path leading to the greater roads in the settlement of Noldalad. Such are the blueprints of Minas Noldorion."

Ioristion smirked, as even the expressions of the horses seemed bewildered: "And now I am going to give you a writing lesson. My poor father is wordy. Let me reveal this to you more simply. You see the Tower ahead of us?" He pointed. "You will notice even from the shadow of it that it is cross-shaped in four wings with a tower in the middle at the top. If my father could write clearer, this would be more accessible to read. The four wings have three levels- an upstairs, a main floor, and a basement. All of our survival came from the work of not only my family, but the other Feanorians who decided to remain with us, in the hope that Maglor would return. He did, and they have decided to remain and tend our House in our absence, while they work, attempting to convince Cirdan to fashion a ship to carry the rest of us to the West, when the shadows are gone and all of this is over. If we die, we will not need the ships, but I believe that it is better to have them anyway. I cannot explain it, but when I look at the stars as we did in Duillond, I have a hunch, a feeling without reason. And my feeling is that we should have hope."

Ioristion warmly smiled, "Shall we go in?"

They passed into the main gates where they were greeted by many Elves, who bowed their heads. Ioristion smiled, "My brethren, my father would have sent his warmest greetings if he had known I would be returning here. This is Cellindien, a dear friend of mine. She speaks with my voice, and if she desires anything, please give to her." The others smiled.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XVII: The Hidden Court

They followed the two into the main chamber of Minas Noldorion: a gigantic hall of marble walls with two rows of pillars on either side. The hall was wide and a carpet led to a high place, upon which were four chairs, with another set of seven stairs between them. There at the top in the middle of them all was a high throne of stone. He pointed at the throne, "My father's doing. Come, I will show you the better parts."

He took her through each section of the fortress, explaining their functions, from the storage of herbs to the brewing of salves, the tanning of hides to the weaving of cloth, the transformation of reeds and animal-hides into parchment, and the binding of books. The basement seemed more dungeon-like in its appearance: grey, darkened stone walls, with many wooden-shelves and barrels. Then he took her to the library in the cellars, to where his contributions to the House were made, as a scholar. Here were many old and weathered book-shelves filled to the brim with dusty tomes in faded colors. Then he took her to see the dining hall, a marble chamber upstairs with golden trim along the walls, and a shining table. Then they climbed the Tower to see his father's chambers, with its golden paneling, his mirror, his wardrobe, and his resting place. Then they saw the great Library where Laurefinde had healed Auruiron alongside Makalaure, with its many tomes in its rectangular shape, and the fair balcony overlooking the Sea on its western side, with the stair leading up to the right. They climbed the stair, and stood on the balcony near the Tower, gazing out at the Gulf of Lhun, with the stars shining.

After many long moments of contemplation, he led her to his own personal wing of Minas Noldorion, which was rather large. They stepped into his own hall of meeting, where he would receive his friends. Next to it was a short hall into a massive chamber filled to the brim with bookshelves, tapestries, map-tables, an ornate stone throne, strange mounted sets of armor, more maps, and mystical glowing orbs of stone, which he explained were special gemstones forged by the Feanorians in Aman. They were not the Palantiri, but they were similar in appearance, and useful to gaze toward in order to gather one's thoughts. There was a feasting table in the center, where he and his friends would dine.

Beyond the great hall was a smaller tower chamber with a circular table surrounded by bookshelves, with another orb. Then, back through the great hall and the meeting hall, was another tower, with two floors. The bottom floor had candles and chests filled to the brim with artifacts, and after a climb up a spiraling staircase, was a sitting room, followed by a rectangular bed-room with great windows overlooking the outlying buildings of the Tower. There was a map of Eregion and of Eriador within that room. There, many plans were forged.

But his friends were now dead. The War had taken them all.

Ioristion and Cellindien passed through the main doors into his wing.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:10 AM.
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Chapter XVIII: The Chambers of the Prince

Ioristion walked softly into his chamber of meeting.

"Well, I have shown you it. This is the only home I can remember, that I have known. My family has dwelt here for most of two Ages of this world."

Cellindien seemed uneasy, "It is... impressive."

Ioristion bowed, pretending not to notice. His chair was there, as he had remembered. He untied the clasp of his cloak. In its full bloom, it had a long trail, and wide. He sat down, and appeared similar to the painting of the High-King on the ceiling. His hair flew down in golden tresses. "My uncles and brothers have occupied similar wings, to this one. I have not seen these rooms in two years...." He turned at sat down on the marble chair. "This is where I once received my friends....... the same who marched to war....."

Cellindien stood quietly in the center of the room, looking about her. Then Ioristion began to think, of how ridiculous he must appear, while she stood awkwardly beside him. He began to think she looked annoyed at him. He was cautious, "How rude of me, my apologies. You may sit here, if you wish." He quickly gathered up the cloak and stood, folding it on his arms.

Cellindien: shook her head quickly, "No... thank you. You must forgive me, but this does not seem a very comforting home to return to."

Ioristion nodded calmly, "I understand....... one might mistake it for the House of Gil-galad Elven-King...... but I have found ways to make it comfortable." He turned, beckoning to her, as he walked to her right into a tower chamber, and then right again, up the spiraling stairs to his upper chambers.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:11 AM.
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Chapter XIX: Powers from Beyond the Sea

They passed through the sitting room, and into his chamber of rest. There was a resting bed in the middle of the room, with windows overlooking the outer-buildings, and a fire-place at the end. His ancient stone shimmered, its myriad of blue and teal colors swirling in mist. He started to warm his hands by the fire.

Cellindien hesitated by the door.

Ioristion smiled, wondering if she was fearful of a marriage-proposal or something romantic, something of which he was just as fearful of, and desired nothing to do with, "Do not be afraid, you are my sister now. We do not behave as mortals do..... especially not here." He smiled slowly.

Cellindien still seemed nervous, "But will not your... your people talk?"

Ioristion shook his head, "It is an old code. No such things are feared among the Eldar."

Cellindien noted he had misread her, "It is not that of which I speak... but no matter."

Ioristion turned around, "Then of what do you speak?" He eyed her curiously.

Cellindien still looked nervous, "I... I do not know. But this place puts me on edge." She looked towards him and quickly added, "I mean no offense."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not feel safe."

Ioristion sighed, "None taken. You told me of your past, and I understand."
He gently took her hands in his own, and genuflected, "But there is nothing here to harm you. Do not be afraid. All that oppresses you are naught but spirits of the past. Shall we attempt to chase them away?" He stood and walked to the stone, "Come and gaze into the stone. It is ancient, fashioned by the Noldor across the Sea. It is not one of the Seeing Stones, nor does it possess such properties. But it is fair to look upon, to ease one's thoughts." He gently his hand on the stone's smooth, polished surface.

Cellindien's voice was tight with anxiety, "I had thought that they were banished... the sight of these halls..."
She crossed over to the stone. "It is strange..." She hesitantly rested her palm on the stone.

Ioristion nodded, "These are not the same halls that you remember. Do you see how these colors and swirls converge at the top, vanishing?"

Cellindien gazed intently, "I... I see it." She stared at the colors, her breathing quickening.
Ioristion's voice became as if a gentle teacher, "Attempt to envision anything, everything that has ever caused you pain or fear, terror or woe...... let them become the vapors, and watch them vanish at the top."
Cellindien began to panic, "No... no. I don't want to envision it... I don't want to." Her eyes suddenly flied up to Ioristion's face and she jerked her hand away from the sphere.
"NO!" She dropped to the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:11 AM.
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Chapter XX: Shadows of the Past

Ioristion turned, walking over to the map of Eregion on the wall, staring at it. "My dear sister..... I am not trying to hurt you......
We are both changing in ways that are making us afraid. Why... do you not know who the only other person was the last to enter this room, besides me?"

Cellindien was listening, but gave no sign, eyes closed and her head buried in her arms, rocking slightly.

Ioristion crossed the room again, looking into the flames. He saw an Eye. The Eye began to grow larger and larger in his mind. He fell backward in terror between
Cellindien and the fireplace. He reached for her, desperately.

Cellindien attempted to retreat into her own mind. The room seemed hot and it was if the very walls were constricting. Suddenly she heard Ioristion stumble and looked up just in time to see him fall.
Her eyes widened, the urge to protect surging through her, "Ioristion!" She seized his hand. "Ioristion!"

Ioristion opens his eyes, crawling over to her. "I saw him.......the Eye........mocking me from the flames...."

Cellindien looked into the fire, "There is no Eye here..."

His hand gripped hers. She looked around nervously, as though half-expecting to see an Eye herself.
Ioristion grasped her hand firmly, "Nor is that which harmed you...."

She closed her eyes and held tightly to his hand.

Ioristion enveloped her in a tight embrace. Cellindien stared outward, "Why did we come here?
I prefer the ruins to this..."

Ioristion did not let go, "...to change......to grow........ to ready ourselves......."

Cellindien chastised him, "You could have fallen in the fire, you fool."

Ioristion spoke slowly and darkly, "Fingon's foe is capable of plunging his prey into nightmares, destroying the mind first, that the rest may follow.
If we are to defeat him, we must face our fears long before we face him............ and triumph over them.
Then, when he attempts to unseam us, we will unseam him. I am expecting to see Macil standing before me, begging....... begging for me to save him...... to tell him why I did not save him........... why I could not........" He began to look nervous, a tear falling down his face.

Cellindien opened her mouth as if to try to say something, but she could not speak.

Ioristion did not relent, "And....I.....I........... " He spoke with difficulty as more tears fell from his eyes, "...must gain the courage to say to him, 'You are not Macil. You are Guldrambor, and we shall defeat you'........I would......imagine.....you may find yourself....in Gondolin....again......faced with your father........only.......he is not.......your father..........I have never told you why we are really hunting............I should....explain......." He pulled himself together with difficulty, stifling the tears. He gazed into the stone. "Seven thousand years ago, there were two Houses, each of which sent Guardians."

Cellindien looked bewildered and upset, "I will find myself... in Gondolin...?" Her faced paled. "You... you should explain, and quickly!"

Ioristion merely rambled on, "They were ceremonial at first, and their King was Finwe. The Houses, Ainon Cundan and Yualon, were peaceful. And then the Dark Lord was loosed from Mandos. All thought him penitent. But he was not. Yucalwe, Yualon's Heir, befriended a Maia-spirit named Amanuiron. Yucalwe was lonely and no one really wanted to befriend him. He took to gazing at glades, and pondering strange powers in the Gardens of Lorien. Amanuiron dazzled him with his powers, for he was a Maia of Lorien himself, of dreams and visions. But Melkor seduced him with promises of power. And his influence sparked a rivalry between the Houses. Finwe was openly insulted by Yucalwe, and both he and his father were banished from Court. His father made him vow to restore the honor of his House. Then, when the Two Trees fell, Amanuiron revealed his true wickedness, and his true name: Guldrambor, the Fist of Sorcery. He fled with Morgoth into the north of Arda, but he was lesser than Sauron, and not mentioned in the histories at all. But centuries later, Yucalwe and Fingon fought him in the gorges nigh Himring, and Guldrambor swore a terrible oath: To hunt down all of the remaining Guardians of Finwe, to kill them. My father was Heir to the Ainon Cundan, he is a target of this Oath. So is Yucalwe. And so are my uncles. I told you of how Fingon Findekano became bound to this Staff on my back. It was Guldrambor who did it. And.......and...."

A tear fell down his cheek.

"He is still out there......stalking....waiting.....he is swaying some of the armies of evil Men in the East...... his influence extends to Umbar......and Khand.....Harad....and Rhun........... he nearly killed Yucalwe........ Makalaure saved him........."

Cellindien lifted a hand to her face slowly, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

Ioristion gasped, "Guldrambor will not rest until all of us are dead. His doings are beneath the gaze of the Dark Lord, and he has not influenced all of them, but he......... even if the Dark Lord of Mordor would fall, Guldrambor would attempt to take his place, and we alone know of him, and we alone can end him........"

Cellindien walked slowly through the room.

Ioristion's tired voice did not stop, "We are searching the ruins of Eriador for everything, anything........ anything that can aid us against him.......and this is why I cannot lose hope, for if I do...... he....he...will exploit it......a gap in the defenses.......Cellindien........he will destroy me.......us.......if we do not conquer our fears......."

Cellindien looked into his eyes, "There.... there is another way..."

Ioristion stared her down, "If he were to transform himself into Luingil in your mind, what would you do......?"

Cellindien spoke nervously, "I... I would..." She looked down at the floor. "I am ashamed to think of what I would do.
Ioristion, brother... I have a confession..."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:11 AM.
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