𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔈𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔖𝔦𝔵

What kind of magic can heal your own self? I shall have to ask Gandalf about this. I'll tell him when I get the chance. I charge at him once again. He ducks my blade. I dodge his blade as it shoots up to me. I slam my sword into his arm. The blade goes flying. It nails into a wall. 

"Not bad dear brother. Our father trained you well, but then again he did not banish you to rot." Malachi says.

"What is it you want exactly?" I ask.

"I want our father to be destroyed. It is time for a new race to dawn. This is our era. The era of the Dark Elves. I cannot do this alone brother." Malachi's expression turns softer.

I draw back.

"A new race? Are you really that senseless?" I ask.

"Senseless? I have seen the light or the darkness depending on your view." He says.

He circles me.

"You don't know the truth of our mother's fate, do you? Poor Legolas." He chuckles.

"What are you talking about Malachi?" I ask. 

"So naive." He chuckles.

He turns and starts walking off.

"Stop!" I shoot an arrow. It slices his arm and slams int the wall near him.  

He turns to me.

"What a foolish move little brother." He takes out some powder.

He charges faster than I have ever seen. I have no time to react as he grabs my neck. He lifts me up. His hand feels even colder as it strangles my neck. I slam my hand into his arm, but it feels harder than iron. 

"Sorry for this little brother." He blows the powder into my face.