The Crownless Again Shall Be King

Prologue

The Crownless Again Shall be King

Prologue

-Rayel-

We were a day’s ride from Helm’s Deep when Mithrandir decided that we should rest for the night. We had been riding hard for many hours and our energy was dwindling down to nothingness. We were all exhausted from the Battle and many of us still had injuries that needed attending to.

I pitied the Lady Brendawyn who still had yet to hear about her brother’s passing. I needed to tell her as soon as possible, but I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her like that. Besides, we needed to reach Isengard; Gandalf had heard word that Ents had taken revenge on the orcs for chopping down the young forests.

I could only hope that the Hobbits were safe.

“We’ll rest here for the night,” Gandalf decided. “We need to recover our strength.”

I had no problem with resting; my ribs and side still ached from the battle the night before. I remembered the wall exploding, being thrown backward, getting stabbed by orc-forged blades, and- discovering my Elemental powers over Fire.

How was I able to summon flames? How did liquid inferno run through my veins?

“How are you holding up, dear sister?” Aragorn asked, dismounting Brego. My brother studied me with tired, brown eyes.

“I should be asking you, Elessar,” I smiled. “You haven’t slept in almost three days.”

He chuckled, offering me a hand as he assisted me in dismounting the stallion. “True, but I’m not the one drained of energy and recovering from a broken rib.”

“Point taken,” I laughed, wincing at the pain in my side.

“Rayel, how are you feeling?” Legolas asked weakly, studying my ragged appearance.

“I don’t know why you both are so worried about me,” I smiled. “You’re the ones I’m worried about.”

“We are not the ones who obtain the ability to wield fire and flame,” Legolas countered.

“As a Wielder of the Flame of Anor,” Gandalf cleared his voice, startling me. “I do believe you have inherited some peculiar family traits.”

“Do you know why this has happened to me, Mithrandir?” I asked quietly.

“Foresight runs in your family, as does healing… but you seem to have inherited an ability from many, many years ago. One of your ancestors mastered the flames and became one with fire and because of this; Melkor has wished to obtain this ability from the race of Men. But your ancestor intermarried with the Elf-kind and the ability was passed along down the family lines.”

“Then how am I the only one to still have this ability in my veins?”

“Because you are special, Lothrayel,” the Wizard smiled. “And if the Eye of the Enemy discovered this… it could be devastating. That is why your parents were killed so many years ago; those Orcs were sent to capture you- not your parents. That is why the Orcs marked you- as long as you bare that scar and this ability, the forces of Darkness will never stop searching for you. This is why you were stolen away with Merry and Pippin; you are also an Elvish weapon.”

I started to assemble the pieces of the jumbled puzzle. “Melkor, the Lord of Darkness wants me?”

“So it would be assumed… It seems there is more to you than meets the eye.”

“We will protect you, sister,” assured my brother gripping my shoulder reassuringly.

“As will I,” Legolas vowed. “No harm shall befall you again, while I still draw breath.”

I sighed, wondering why these men were so willing to die for me. “If one of the Valar wants me, then who will stand in his way? If the forces of Evil after me, then what can we do?”

“Good always triumphs over darkness and the Light always outshines the Darkness,” Gandalf smiled, placing a warm hand to my cheek. “Rest now, for tomorrow we visit Saruman and the ruins of Isengard.”