Cursed

Prologue

Middle-Earth ; a glorious world filled with beauty and magic. A land filled with man, elve, dwarf, and hobbit. A place where myths and legends float about in the airs of each district.

This is the story of The Immortal Human.

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Before Middle-Earth had been corrupt with the evil forces of Sauron, there was a kingdom up in the north-west. Carn Dûm. Carn Dûm was a city rich in magic and witchcraft, the great capital of Angmar. Though before the influence of Sauron, it was not named.

Carn Dûm was located in between 2 mountain ranges, and west of Mount Gundabad. In the winters, snow would cover the land, leaving it crisp and white but when the spring came, small flowers would peek out of the snow and trees would fill with the greenest leaves.

In the year TA (third age) 1300, Sauron's spirit had covered the land with darkness and death. Carn Dûm became home of the Witch-King, known by many as the King of the Nine Riders, once men who had been given one of nine rings to control the land. They were all now Nazgûl, slaves of Sauron.

By this time, the One Ring had been lost for a few hundred years and the slaves of Sauron had been on the hunt for it. Unbeknownst to them, it lay in the depths of a river, untouched.

Carn Dûm soon became a land of despair. Shadows climbed up the once beautiful mountains, and the darkest of clouds covered the sky, overcasting the city below. It became a fortress. The people that once lived there fled. They travelled to places as far as Gondor to escape the dread that had shrouded this once great city. Instead of the race of man, Carn Dûm was inhabited by Orcs, Trolls, Wargs, and evil creatures of darkness.

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Before the dawn of the Witch-King, there was a King and Queen. They were fair rulers of this great district. Though they soon fell to the temptation of evil and power. They wanted the One Ring, and sent many soldiers to hunt for it, all unsuccessful.

When the Witch-King invaded Carn Dûm, they offered anything they could for some of his power. They were hungry for it, for some of Sauron's power. They begged and begged for it, but none would be given. That was until the King offered the Witch-King his country, and all it's people.

The Witch-King needed a palace, and this secluded city would do perfectly. This was why Carn Dûm fell. It fell to the greed of men.

By doing this, it had major consequences on the King and Queen. Many swore it was the work of Valar. A curse.

The King and Queen realised they were aging quicker than what any other of mankind would. In the year TA 90, the King and Queen were gifted with a child. Though they had no kingdom of their own anymore, they had fled south-west, to the Elven realm of Lindon, a picturesque district, filled with the most beautiful of wildlife.

They were still royals, known in their community of man, who had followed them to seek refuge. The elves didn't have much knowledge on their location, just knowing that there was a small gathering of them. They left them alone, after hearing their story of the demise of Carn Dûm.

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Their child was one of grace and beauty. They were gifted a daughter. Though many people within the community would have thought a son to be better, especially at keeping them safe. But nevertheless, the King and Queen were happy.

They named her Y/N, Princess of Mortals, and she grew with elegance over the years. Though over these years, both rulers would notice things out-of-the-ordinary. Y/N had the strongest of senses, being able to smell danger from miles away, to being able to hear the snapping of twigs from within the depths of the forest. They believed this was a gift. A gift to them from Valar, for putting up with the hardest of problems.

Though the strangest thing they noticed was her ability to grow older, but not age a day. They noticed this when she turned 15, while still having the face of an 8 year old. Then when she turned 20, still looking as if she had turned 15, just yesterday.

As the rulers grew older, she stayed the same. And when they passed, she would've been in her 80's, yet looked as if she was 20 again.

She had been looking into it for years and years now, yet no results came up. That was until she met him.

Gandalf the Grey.

Oh he was a powerful wizard, one of the big 5, as a matter-of-fact. He had been visiting Lindon, inquiring about the Queen of Lórien, Galadriel, that used to reside in these lands.

He had met Y/N and told her of her past. Of her curse.

The act of the King and Queen begging for power had resulted in them willing to give anything up, and that thing would be their future child. She was cursed, neither for good or for bad.

Y/N was shocked when she heard the tale that her parents would never tell her. She had become an elf. Or not exactly. She possessed the qualities any elve would have, with sharpened senses, and amazing fighting skills. It was like she was a born-natural.

Over the many, many years, the girl lived through generations of man, of her community. They slowly faded, either living out their lives in Lindon, or travelling to the likes of Gondor or Rohan. Either way, no one stuck around.

She had become a myth. A legend. For there was no longer any living being to tell her story, since the rest of the elves of Lindon had thought she was nothing more than a mere human, and her community had withered away.

Many would speak of  the Immortal Human, but none had ever found her, for she travelled around Middle-Earth, avoiding every gaze and any unwanted attention.

Over her life, she had learned the Elvish language, as well as practiced her combat skills and archery. She lived a peaceful life, one of seclusion. Though there was one she kept in contact with.

Gandalf.

He had been like a guardian to her, watching over her every graceful movement. He kept her secret safe, and he was the only one she trusted. She couldn't even trust her own kin, whether they be elve or man. She was alone, and she liked it that way.

This is your story.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ