Agony • Concealed Memories | | Thranduil

15 • Beyond Despair

The rough fur of his elk was soaked with sweat. With every thunderclap of its hooves, the beast bellowed its heavy breath into the world. The gold of the shining armour marched in quick pace behind it. Birds soared from the branches, small rodents leapt from the path and the earth trembled with the trampling of dozens of horses. And although his mount did most of the work, Thranduil felt like he was out of breath. Out of breath because the thought that his family was in peril suffocated him. Why had he ever let them out of his sight? Why had he allowed himself to be persuaded?

He swallowed the guilt and despair that raged through him and turned his gaze to the path ahead. There was still time. There had to be.

An infernal noise filled the woods. Trees cracked and screams of men Thranduil had known all his life cut through the air. Swords that ripped open bodies and roars that could make even the bravest men in Arda tremble to the bone.

Thranduil pulled the reins tight when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw an abandoned cart. His heart shot to his throat. A wheel had broken and the horses were tangled up with their reins, whinnying, the whites of their eyes visible with fear. His wife and son were nowhere to be seen.

'Untie them!' he demanded, urging his elk again. He knew he was approaching the battlefield, for the screams and roars grew louder with every footstep. At the edge of the forest his mount suddenly stood still, snorting, and in his haste almost threw Thranduil off his back. The king clung himself onto the thick fur, while his eyes found the frightening image that had startled his mount. The animal shifted its hooves as the blood from the bodies seeped down its feet along the ground. Faces, frozen in absolute agony, stared at him. The open wounds and crusted blood prevented the king from recognising their faces, but they were his men. Leaning over them stood a monster he had not locked eyes with in over 150 years.

The Frostwyrm did not even flinch when Thranduils boots hit the ground and he drew his sword. Too late, the monster raised its greedy head from between the elven ribs asThranduil pierced his sword right between its eyes. The beast roared once, before collapsing on the pile of corpses. Thranduil wiped his sword on the smooth skin of the wyrm. The youngsters were stupid and less aggressive than their elders, but as these men experienced, they were fast and deadly.

Thranduil lifted his gaze to the battlefield, where his men were battling the monsters. It was their task to cleanse the forest of this ferocious infection and it was his task to find his family. Thranduil heaved himself back into the saddle and stormed into the battle line.

A tidal wave of Frost Wyrms poured down from the mountains. His men went into battle, screaming, streamlined and with fluid movements, as the elven military army had been trained to do. Not an army made up of individuals, no, they were one. And as one man they fought for their lives, for their country and for their kingdom.

Blood of elf and monster covered the grasslands and desperate cries echoed against the mountains. Whatever had caused the eggs to hatch prematurely, the world was not prepared. Thranduil had no time to speculate; he had to find his family. He raised his sword and spurred on his mount.

Blood splattered up between the grassy sods under his mighty hooves and coloured his fur red. Thranduil steered him to the right as he caught sight of his general, the man he had last seen leaving with his wife. Thranduil called out in the elven language and the elk lowered its head and rammed its entire weight through a troop of Frost Wyrms from which the general barely escaped.

'General, where is my wife?'

The general raised his sword and threaded it vertically through the head of a Frost Wyrm. 'I don't know, my lord.' They exchanged a brief glance. Both elves knew that it might be the last time they fought shoulder to shoulder. The general nodded, before turning and plunging his sword into frostwyrm's shoulder. Thranduil spurred his elk on and left again.