The Lost Ellon

Chapter Four

Gandalf hurried back as he sensed the magic and beheld the trolls' lifeless forms. He questioned how they met their gruesome fates. Turning to the dwarves, they gestured to where they hoped Emillion would be found. Gandalf rushed to the house and saw that Emillion was still at his place, but he was smiling, the coldest smile he had ever seen. 

Gandalf: Ori, what have you done!? 

Emillion: Don't blame the dwarf; he made the right choice, and I'm still here, right?

Gandalf: What is your purpose, Emillion? Indeed, this charade serves some end, correct?

Emillion: You possess me; what other intentions could I have? What actions are possible for me now that these chains bind me?

Gandalf: Magic is not your only attribute, Emillion. I will soon uncover your true nature, and when I do, I will liberate you from it, Emillion, once and for all.

Emillion could only hum and return to his meditation as the wizard departed. Shortly after, the group stumbled upon a cave inhabited by trolls. Led by Fili, Emillion approached the cave and seated himself by the entrance. Lost in his thoughts, he was abruptly roused by numerous footsteps approaching. Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground and carried swiftly into the dense woods. He waited alongside the dwarves, his expression betraying utter boredom, anticipating the impending threat. Suddenly, something emerged from the thicket, shattering Emillion's dull day: Radagast, the brown wizard. At the sight, Emillion drew back, and upon noticing Emillion, the wizard's surprise permeated the atmosphere.

Radagast: Emillion! How?!

The wizard rushed toward the elf, and Emillion recoiled, his face etched with disgust and annoyance. As the wizard embraced him, a sense of dread washed over him; something was wrong. There was no warmth, only a grave-like chill. The wizard could not hear Emillion's heartbeat nor the blood flow in his veins as he held the ellon who meant so much to him. Gandalf led Radagast away from Emillion and walked to a secluded area of the woods for a private conversation. Emillion settled on the forest floor, his thoughts drifting back to a time he despised, with his irritating older brothers who insisted on "playing" with him. The mere thought of his brothers ignited only rage and hatred in his mind. Emillion was thankful for the chains; his magic was bound to his emotions, and when anger took hold, the outcome was swift and violent.

Flashback: A young Emillion sat by a small pond, engrossed in a tome detailing the histories of various magics. Nearby, two older Ellons practiced archery, enjoying themselves. Noticing their youngest brother absorbed in reading, they wondered if he'd like to join them but approached the matter poorly. The eldest brother grabbed the book from Emillion. As Emillion attempted to retrieve it, the other brother blocked him. Overcome with rage, Emillion seized his brother's wrist, and a glow emanated from his hand, followed by the scent of searing flesh. One brother screamed in agony while the other rushed over to intervene.

Older brother: Enough; we wanted your company in our game!

Emillion: Why would I anyway? You two are the most foolish elves here!

Older Elf: Enough Emillion!

The father approached the boys and separated Emillion from his older brother. Noticing that his eldest son was holding the book, he deduced that he had instigated the fight, and that his second son was assisting his older sibling.

Father: Why did you do this Thalien? And why did you help him Feno? 

Thalien: We just wanted Emillion to play with us, and practice with us with our bows. 

Father: You know that Emillion doesn't like what you and Feno do, and how many times has this happened? You both know better. 

Emillion sensed a surge of power within him, and the overwhelming emotion drove him to cast a spell. He uttered words in an unfamiliar tongue, and a hand emerged from a circle that materialized in the air. With swift motion, the hand reached for Thalien and snatched the book from his grasp. Startled by the hand's sudden appearance, Thalien released the book. The hand glided toward Emillion, returned the book to him, and came to rest on his shoulder. His father gazed at Emillion fearfully, while Emillion, rolling his eyes, retreated to his room, the one place he was certain he would be left undisturbed.

End of Flashback. 

Emillion's spell of choice, the mystical hand, was more than just a comfort; it was his closest companion. To Emillion, it transcended mere conjuration—it was his everything. It assisted him in all his needs. He longed for its presence and all that accompanied it. Then, the scent of oiled fur wafted to Emillion's nostrils.

Emillion: Dog on your ten Nori.

Nori glanced back and spotted the warg. As he raised his weapon, Kili's arrow struck the warg's eye, sending it tumbling down the slope. Meanwhile, Emillion hummed a tune, seemingly at ease while the group battled the wargs. Gandalf and Radagast arrived at the scene to witness the aftermath. Emillion gave Gandalf a knowing look, his eyes conveying an unspoken "I told you so."

Thorin: Warg scouts! That means that there is an orc pack not far behind!

Bilbo: An orc pack!?

Emillion: Great, so what is the plan? 

Ori: The ponies have bolted!

Emillion: Ha! This day just got better and better. 

All: Shut up!

Radagast: I'll draw them off!

Gandalf: These are Gungdabad Warg's! They will outrun you!

Radagast: These are Ruskabell Rabbits! I like to see them try.

Emillion found himself in the strangest predicament that day. He was running alongside a group of diminutive individuals, and the strain of their movement only served to irritate him due to the slow pace they maintained.He was aware that they were close to the hidden passageway leading to the Hidden Valley, an alternative prison, yet it seemed a suitable place to lay low and strategize for the future. Upon reaching an open field, Emillion simply stood there, his expression one of boredom and indifference. He inspected his nails and hands as orcs encircled the group. However, the head orc's confidence turned to fear upon seeing Emillion's eyes. He ordered his pack to retreat as horses appeared out of nowhere, driving the orcs away. In the midst of the chaos, Emillion was whisked away to the secret entrance just as the wizard materialized abruptly. Soon, he stood before the door of an elven lord, and once again, the past confronted him.