Anariel of Erudin: The Age of Revolution | Lord of the Rings

6. Mirkwood City

As we neared the city gates of Mirkwood, I thought of the great forest that had been cruelly destroyed so that this city could be built. The trees' charred wood formed the city walls like some kind of vile insult to nature.

When we passed onto the Old Forest Road, I stopped for a moment and looked carefully at either side of me: the sleeping forest on one side and the thick smoke of industry on the other, polluting the air and poisoning the trees. Immediately, I wanted to go back to the peaceful wood, but Turin was rushing towards the gates without hesitation.

"Come, Ana," he said to me in a cheerful voice. "Haven't you ever wondered what lies beyond these gates?"

"Turin, don't you remember what happened here, what we saw?"

"No, what did we see?"

My shoulders sank. He didn't remember any of it. Never would I forget what I had seen on this road five years ago: the horses as black as night, the old, rickety wagon with the creaky wheels, and the iron cage that held the hobbits, their eyes full of sadness, fear, and despair. Back then, Legolas had stopped me from chasing down the wagon, but today, there was nobody to keep me from walking through that gate.

As soon as we entered the city, an unsettling feeling came over me, and when I sought the sun for comfort, I found only darkness. Here, the air was so thick that not even the sun's light could penetrate it. And so, to illuminate their gloomy city, the people of Mirkwood built great fires that burned through the day and the night and populated the town with strange shadows that seemed to move on their own.

"Mirkwood is the city of lies," Lord Aemon once told me, "and Lord Thalis is the biggest lie of them all. He rules the city from his castle, never stepping into the light of day, always hiding his face behind a black cloak. He claims to be a noble, but I believe he is a conjurer of evil, a worshiper of the Dark Lord. He speaks to shadows and fills the hearts of men with malice."

Lord Aemon had a habit of exaggerating things, but I believed there was some truth to his words.

While Turin visited the blacksmith, I wandered over to the main square, where a large group had gathered to listen to a man's speech. Upon the gallows he stood, waving a banner high in the air. It was not the purple, raven-bearing banner of Mirkwood. This one was black, just black, plain and unadorned, but every time it fluttered, the crowd cheered louder and louder.

"The time is now!" he declared. "From the capital in the north to the capital in the south, they speak of it. From the golden shores of Belfalas to the deepest depths of the Iron Hills, they speak of it. Listen, and you will hear it. The Age of Revolution is coming! For too long, the nobles have shat on us, but not anymore!"

From his belt he drew a dagger and hurled it straight into the siding of the local tavern. "The first sword has been drawn. Stand with us now, or forever remain slaves!"

While the people celebrated, two armed guards came to bring the contentious man to justice. "In the name of Lord Thalis, we place you under arrest. Will you come peacefully, or do you intend to resist?"

The man smirked. "Whether I resist or not, I'll still be hanged as a traitor to the crown, and I can't have that." As he spoke, his fingers inched toward the leather pouch at his waist. "So I'm afraid I must resist you."

He threw down what looked like a rock, and suddenly the gallows went up in smoke, making everybody near it start to choke and cough. When the smoke finally cleared, the man was gone, leaving the guards scratching their heads in confusion.

He knows magic! I thought, and then I followed a small group of people as they flocked to the tavern that bore the man's dagger. Everybody was pushing and shoving to get a better look, but I somehow managed to force my way to the front.