A Game of Flags

Chapter Five: The Valley of Lethien

𝗗ays went by as the Solidarity traveled slowly, it went from fields to woods, from woods to small caves, barely any talk was amongst them.
Of course, they was deeply effected by the death of Greflyn, as he was meant to guide them through the darkest hours of the hundredth, but he was gone — was there any hope?
Arathor was leading the way now, with D'Angelo behind him, the Younglings walking in single file — and Eli at the back, they walked through forests, and eventually stopped in a little space, as they was surrounded by bushes.
Arathor turned to the others. “We will take a break here,” he said, “then we will be back on the road.”
“Back on the road?” said Evera. “Is there any point now? We're walking in circles, we have been for the past few days.”
“I know it's a misery,” said Arathor; “but even with the death of our close wizard friend, i don't think he'd want us to give up now. We've already made it far — i suppose we can continue it — as a Solidarity.”
“Yeah, even with your motivation speech, i see no point in it,” said D'Angelo, “taking in the fact that if Orcs and a Celtog can kill Greflyn, who knows what could kill us?”
“Which is why we travel slow, so we do not be seen in the light,” said Arathor. “We have too much responsibilities in our hands,” he glanced at Perrin, “there is no going back now, get some rest. We'll be up tommorow.”
As the moon rose, The Solidarity wrapped their cloaks around themselves, as they fell asleep, with a light of fire in the center.

The Sun now shined in their faces, as Arathor was the first to wake up — with a shock, of course, he didn't have the most pleasant dream, but according to his surroundings — everyone is safe.
The Fire was put out, as Arathor blew his horn, as the other members woke up. “It is now morning!” he said. “We need to make a quick travel!”
And just like that, The Solidarity was back on the road, they exited the Forest and traveled through a few fields, before going back into another Forest, as they now met what appeared to be two boats next to a shore, as Arathor turned to Eli. “You know how to row?”
“Yes, i did alot of rowing during my time,” said Eli, “why? What do you suggest?”
“You know Lethien, right?” said Arathor. “Another Valven Valley, well, we need to travel there — it is urgent.”
Eli nodded, skeptically of course, as he motioned D'Angelo to climb onto a boat with him, “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Arathor said we have to row to Luthien,” said Eli, “it is urgent.”
D'Angelo rolled his eyes, as Arathor climbed into the other boat, with Perrin and Gimitri climbing behind him — and Evera in the boat with Eli and D'Angelo.
They began rowing, as they left the Fifty-Eighth floor and rowed throughout to the sixtieth, where they saw two statues of what appeared to be two Valves in a traditional fight, as they had their swords drawn out.

They rowed past the statues and suddenly a fog overtook them, and before they knew it — they found themselves in a valley that was beyond beautiful, it was similar to Brookrill — if not even prettier.
“What kind of angelic wizardry is this!” said D'Angelo. “I think i might be hyperventilating!”
“Oh, calm down!” said Eli. “The Fog overtook you, you'll calm down. I swear.”
They parked their boats as they got out, as Arathor led them into a Shrine, where they met with Two Vylves, one who was sitting down at a table, and the other — who was a female, was meditating on the balcony.
The Male Vylf looked up at the Solidarity. “You have made it, Arathor.”
“Yes, i did,” said Arathor, “how are you, Ceregor?”
“I am fine,” said Ceregor, as he turned to the Valven Princess. “Elenaril, they are here.”
The Valf Queen, Elanaril, turned around and saw the Solidarity — her beauty was beyond scaling, she walked down the steps and met with them. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Elanaril, it is nice to meet you.”
She shook hands with each individual member, as she had a glance at Perrin, as she noticed the mark on his forehead, which was covered by his hair. “A Sun's Mark,” she said. “Well that is not a normal mark to have, is it. Perekin Bethel?”
Perrin blushed as she mentioned his full name, but Elanaril did not think much of it, as Ceregor asked: “Tell me, where is Greflyn? Is he supposed to be here?”
“Yes, he was supposed to be here,” said Eli, “but a fatal accident happened.”
“Fatal?” asked Ceregor.
“Yes, Fatal,” said Eli, “he fell to his end, by a Celtog of the Lord Melgort.”
“Melgort,” Ceregor turned to Elanaril. “Where did we go wrong with him?”
“We did not go wrong, he was just desperate,” said Elanaril, “it can't be helped. It was thousands of years ago now, probably even longer.”
Elanaril turned back to The Solidarity. “Come! Make yourselves at home, you must've traveled a long way from the Mines of Myriad.”
The Solidarity relaxed themselves on the chairs as Perrin seemed to be looking outside, the Moon was more beautiful than ever, along with the buildings and the beautiful Valves that lied ahead, it was like he could stay forever.

The Next Day passed, as Rago woke up early, he grabbed his things, as he was told to meet his teammates at a said place, he heard they was rowing by boat.
He met with his teammates, as Bergorn greeted him. “You made it, Rago!” he turned to the others. “Is everyone ready?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Alright then!” said Bergorn, as he jumped onto one boat. “Everyone get yourselves into small groups, we will be rowing for a while!”
Rago climbed into Bergorn's boat, it took a few minutes for the full Solidarity to organize themselves, as they began rowing into the next floor. As Rago slowly fell asleep, the last thing he saw was a red storm ahead.

Six is soon!