𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

They know we're chasing them. They know we're hunting them. They've changed their course. They've quickened their pace. The winds now change. 

"Aragorn, i winds gar- changed iór." I say.

(Aragorn, the winds have changed course.)

"Where is it taking us?" He asks.

I point to the high rocky cliffs. 

"The air has gone stiller." I say.

"We must hurry." Aragorn says.

We run through the grass. My thoughts were spinning. I do not feel the darkness of the gaze of the eye of Sauron. I do not feel the biting air. The wind has gone sort. The air around me is dull. The air does not move. The fiery gaze I have felt is... no more. Why?

I climb onto the ledge. Has the world gone quiet? Why do I not feel the gaze of Sauron? Why do I not feel the fire? The evil of Mordor... I can no longer feel. I feel no evil. At least nothing noticeable. My breath is calm, and the ground even has gone quiet. Everything is asleep. Has a blanket of stillness wrapped over this world. 

"Legolas! What do your elf eyes spot?!" Aragorn yells.

"I see the black winds of evil. I see the trails they take. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" I yell.

"Saruman." Aragorn mutters.

"We can't let the hobbits be taken to that foul place!" Gimli roars.

"We must hurry." Aragorn says.