The Ranger And The Prince.

Pass into Shadow.

We turned and saw an orange glow growing in the distant halls.

To our surprise, we heard the orcs shriek, this time out of fear, not a battlecry.

The low grumbling continued and the orcs started to scream and back away from us. I stood there, my axe still poised as the creatures suddenly scattered and fled.

We stood there in shock as the thousands of Orcs flooded back into their cracks in the ground, leaving us in the open once again.

Gimli laughed mockingly though I had a bad feeling about what would happen next.

Orcs were ferocious creatures, slaughtering anyone in their way. They killed without mercy and the more gruesome, the better.

If something was terrifying enough to get an entire hoard of Orcs to run in fear, then that meant bad news for the rest of us.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir whispered to Gandalf.

Another growl came out way as the glowing light illuminated more of the hall. The grip on my axe tightened, my nuckles whitening with the strain.

"A Balrog." Gandalf spoke softly though I could hear his fear in his voice, "A demon of the ancient world."

I felt a cold shiver go down my spine. This couldn't be. The Balrogs were destroyed centuries ago, at the beginning of the third age of Middle-Earth or so I had read.

There are few things that scare me in life, being nearly three thousand years old will have its toll on you after a while. I have faced orcs, goblins, trolls, wargs and even played my part in the finding of a dragon once. In all of those times, I have never had the luxury of being scared.

A Balrog, however, terrified me.

During my travels across Middle-Earth, I have read many a scripture depicting ancient beings and forgotten battles. It is no surprise that a Balrog terrifies me; I think all elves hold that terror in their blood.

I looked over at Legolas who was usually calm in the face of danger but for the first time since I had met him, I saw genuine fear, just like my own.

The elves had fought Balrogs thousands upon thousands of years ago. I have no doubt that ancient battles between our races have now laced the instinct of fear into us eleven kind; me nor Legolas are old enough to have been around during the first age but I see it in his blue eyes right now, the fear and fury our ancestors must have had for the Balrogs.

"This foe is beyond any of you." Gandalf stated sadly, "Run!"

We wasted no time in turning away from the glow and towards the other end of the hall. With Gandalf leading us, we bolted into the passageway, the growling of the Balrog echoing through the halls.

Boromir nearly fell right off the edge of a broken set of stairs as we came out the corridor. Luckily, I managed to sprint forward and grab the back of his tunic before he fell. He lost his balance and fell back on top of me.

Shoving him off, I clambered to my feet and shielded the halflings from making the same mistake, not wanting them to fall to their deaths.

We were now in yet another huge cave, lava and fire sprouting from below, shrouding the entire chamber in the same orange light as the Balrog.

We took the alternative set of stairs instead. Because both me and Legolas were filled with our ancient instinct to flea, we scaled the stairs three at a time which made us the front of the fellowship.

It wasn't until we came to a wide gap in the stairs did we finally slow down and come to a halt. It wasn't that far of a jump so Legolas quickly hopped down and turned to the rest of the fellowship which had caught up with us.