Emillion walked alongside the dwarves, the chains rattling with each step. He despised this place, as it reminded him of a particular elf who was fixated on him. He recalled the words of his Blood Father from his youth, who had told him that his eyes were like hooks that could capture the soul of anyone who gazed into them. He had a face that could warm the heart, the mind that could navigate the intricate game of love, and the physique of Adem, the first man. He glanced around; Emilion detested the sight of statues and waterfalls, which filled him with disgust and unease. Soon, an elf approached the group and locked eyes with Emillion, fear evident in his widened eyes as he recognized the elf he had shared his childhood with, a distinct yet pleasant time. Gandalf nodded for the elf to stay quiet as the sound of horses approached. Emillion rolled his eyes as the elf, Lindir looked at him with frustration and confusion. Soon, the elves surrounded the group, and Emillion was met with spears and swords at his throat and body; Lindir looked at the scene with fear and worry. Emillion looked bored as the wizard and elf lord talked about the group and Emillion. Soon, the elf lord commanded that Emillion be taken to the spare room that was his when he came as a child.
Emillion: I will not. That place is so unbearable!
Emillion's voice cut through the tension, his defiance clear. Elrond's response was swift and uncompromising.
Elrond: It matters not. Remove him from my sight!
The guards took Emillion by the arms and did their best not to react to the chill of Emilion's body as they walked him to the room where he stayed as a child. When they reached the room, the guards pushed him in, closed the door behind him, and locked it before walking away. Emillion walked to the bed, surprised by its new size as he laid on it. He looked at the ceiling, his mind replaying a memory of his time there.
Flashback: A young Emillion was in his room, away from his father and brothers as he was studying a book that talked about conjuration when there was a knock on the door to the room. He didn't do anything to acknowledge the person on the other side of the door but that didn't stop the person from coming in anyway. It was a young Eldacar, bringing Emillion more books than he could find in the library in Rivendell. Emillion didn't look up at the young Ellon. Eldacar walked to the side table and placed the books there.
Eldacar: Here you go! I hope that this helps you.
Emillion nodded silently at Ellon, which hurt Eldacar. Eldacar knew that Emillion didn't like to show his emotions to anyone, not even his family, and he wanted to know why he was this way.
End of Flashback:
Emillion was aware that the elf and his siblings remained, as they resided with their Aunt Ariel. He sighed in irritation, knowing he needed to eat again soon. The chains were adversely affecting his body, an oversight he hadn't accounted for. Fortunately, the chains only hindered his magical abilities, not his other talents. He was on the verge of performing a trick when the door swung open to reveal a face he had hoped never to encounter again, or rather, two faces. It was Alfur and his youngest sister, Briala. They must be the leaders of the guard here, likely the ones to conduct the interrogation. Emillion was escorted to what appeared to be an interrogation room and seated on a chair. Briala sat across from Emillion, while Alfur leaned against the wall beside the door.
Briala: It's been a long time, Emillion. I heard that you just vanished one night.
Emillion: You would feel the same if your king was utterly foolish, your father was excessively controlling, and your brothers were the most intolerable individuals in the world.
Briala: They are your family; they care for you in every way!
Emillion: Locking ourselves away in a rat hole, believing we can live like that? Ha! Don't kid yourself. That life only hindered me, and I wasn't about to let those fools ruin my life. My father hoped that by keeping his sons in one place, he could unite us, not realizing our profound differences. He didn't see that two of us would always be content by his side, while the other craved something more—a life filled with risk, opportunity, and above all, freedom. For the past forty years, I've lived that life, and I can say without a doubt, I'll never regret the choices that brought me here.
Briala: Gandalf said that you were doing something to a man, something that would put you on any list of dangerous and downright crazy people. You were, drinking blood?
Emillion: Would you trust a wizard who willingly abandons his followers to pursue a side quest, allowing his plans to crumble and addressing only half of the problem he faced? Hardly.
Briala acknowledged Emillion's point about Gandalf's credibility, yet she sensed something amiss with Emillion. Her instincts urged her to flee from him, as he no longer resembled the Ellon she once knew. His demeanor had changed too; where he used to be aloof and unresponsive, he now came across as sarcastic and vulgar. This was not the Emillion she recognized. Alfur's instincts were urging him to be on guard, as if Emillion might act at any moment. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and he found his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. They escorted Emillion back to the room and, once the door was locked, Emillion prepared his fingernail to pick the lock on his chains. Before long, he was free. Moonlight streamed into the room, reflecting off Emillion's eyes which turned a vivid blue. He grinned, revealing a single fanged tooth.
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The Lost Ellon
FanfictionA young Ellon with magical powers, never close with his family nor his kingdom but lost in magic, both good and evil. But one night, he is declared missing and isn't seen for years, but why?
