"Stop fussing," Ohtar grunted as Aerel attempted to make him more comfortable. "You all need to flee now, there's little time." 

Aerel looked to me for confirmation and I gave a slight nod, indicating that the time to say farewell to our friend had come. After the shriek that had come from just outside, I wasn't willing to wait around any longer. 

"You've been a steadfast companion," she said with a forlorn smile, pressing a kiss to the large man's brow. "Eru will look upon you with favor in the next world." 

"I hope so," he grunted, letting out a short laugh. "And I'll be sure to put in a good word for you! After all, if it weren't for your constant proselytizing I wouldn't even believe in the possibility of his existence." 

I let the others say farewell before I came to his side. He grasped my forearm, his grip surprisingly strong despite his weakened state. "Take care of the others, captain," he said, suddenly serious. Lowering his voice, the burly highwayman pulled me closer. "I know not what the future holds, but if this darkness remains, they will need a strong leader." 

"I shall do my best," I reassured him, grasping his own forearm in farewell. 

"Now go, quickly! I'll hold the line from here." He pushed me gently away, reaching for the longsword at his side. As we reached the door, he smiled, nodding at us as if to assure us. I'll be alright. I fought back the wave of emotions that hit me then, instead focusing on ushering the others from the cottage. With a final nod of gratitude and brotherhood, I turned away from my stalwart soldier, never again to see him in the land of the living.

=======================

A little over an hour passed before we halted. The first light of dawn was just beginning to peek through the woodland, but it was a hazy, uncertain dawn, grim and greyish and altogether absent of the warm tingle of sunlight. A light mist covered the damp ground in a veil of mystery, though were it to reveal its secrets it would likely only uncover the remnants of shadow and war. 

Thus far, no sign of our hunter had manifested itself. Whether Ohtar had stopped him, or he had simply lost interest, I did not know. But the thought of Ohtar protecting us as we retreated deeper into the forest filled me with a sense of reassurance.

Uirion and Miriel were still with us, her infant child asleep in her arms. I had deemed it too dangerous for them to continue into the forest by themselves, for by now the Enemy were likely surrounding it in their efforts to move through eastern Osgiliath into Gondorian territory. 

"We should part soon," Uirion said finally as we reached a small dirt crossroad. It wound away to the north, likely meeting the Anduin further down its curving paths. I studied the area before responding, attempting to filter the exhaustion from my voice. 

"Agreed. Much further and we'll be close enough to Osgiliath to throw rocks at it. By what path do you intend on traveling?" 

Uirion clenched and unclenched his fists several times. "The north road is no longer safe. I think it wise that we avoid roads altogether, at least until we leave Gondor proper. From there we can make for the mountains. I'm unfamiliar with the lands of the Woodsmen, though." At this, he cast an uncertain glance toward Miriel, who took a step forward.

"I know the way," she said confidently. "The woodsmen have many hidden paths that we might tread. My cousins, if they have no troubles of their own, will already be out searching for me." 

"Are you certain that this is the best idea?" I questioned. "We do not know what violence the woodsmen might be enduring. And so close to Dol Guldur? It just seems dangerous."

"Captain, no disrespect intended," Uirion countered. "But nowhere is safe. Mordor is launching the largest attack of our age, and I highly doubt it's just against the servants of the White Tree. Even Rohan was beset by enemies."

"You're right," I said after a moment of silence. The sheer enormity of the evil we were facing was almost too much to comprehend, but Uirion was a fighter and a survivor. If any of us were to survive, it would be him. 

"Then I suppose that this is where we part ways." Though I felt a slight hint of disappointment at losing yet another companion, it quickly went away. Uirion, at least, had a decent chance of making it out of this alive. The others we had lost were not so fortunate. 

"I suppose it is," the grizzled veteran said. 

"I know we didn't always see eye-to-eye," I replied. "But I truly hope that if this evil passes, our paths cross again." 

Uirion let out a sniff, running a hand across his nose. "As do I, Captain."

"Miriel," I continued, turning to the young woman. Looking at her now, she was little more than a child, but I saw a resolve in her eyes that even those decades her senior rarely possessed. "We spent little time together, I know. But you, and people like your children, are the future of this world. As long as folk like you walk it, there is still hope." 

She gave a grim smile in return. "Thank you for keeping us safe. I know you are all descending into dark and dreadful places that I can scarce imagine, but please, keep yourselves safe as well. Folk like me need defenders like you."

As they turned to leave, a thought entered my mind. "Wait!"

They both turned back. "The infant. What's his name?"

"Ohtar." Miriel replied simply, and with a smile they continued on down the path, away to what I hoped was safety and peace.

================================

The sun rose with the morning, though none of us could see it. Hidden behind a curtain of thick fog, it cast what little light filtered through upon the surrounding landscape, a pale, lifeless light without warmth or hope. 

The trees began to thin out as we traveled further, indicating that we were nearing our destination. Small ponds and pools of stagnant water dispersed the dying plants nearby, painting a dismal and dreary scene. Further, there were signs of a struggle here; The damp ground was torn up by hooves in places, and the grass was thoroughly trampled. Further into the marsh, the signs were even more obvious: A rusted sword here, the torn fabric of a black banner waving in the slight breeze there. Several bloated bodies lay strewn across the ground, so far into a state of decay that I couldn't tell if they were man or orc. Large black flies buzzed around them lazily, and as we drew closer the sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh mingled with the stench of stagnant water and coppery blood. Soon, it grew so strong that I was forced to cover my face with my scarf. 

Aerel drew near to one of the bodies, kneeling near it while covering her face with a scarf of her own. "Gondorian," she said, pulling at the cloth that still clung to the rotting flesh.  "A ranger too, from the looks of it. Must've been one of Faramir's men." 

Eradan inspected another corpse, scrunching his nose in disgust. "This one's an Easterling. Looks like his horse is just over there," he pointed to a grassy spot in the distance where a dark mass lay. "All of the signs suggest that this was an ambush."

I shrugged. "You'd know better than I. We'd best remain wary then, there might be more nearby."

As if on cue, a massive figure leapt from the underbrush. Shivers went down my spine as I recognized the newcomer as the tall shape I had seen in the sewer the day before. Clad in spiked armor, he was a massive orc with an imposing frame and two curved swords at his hips. Something about him was unsettlingly human; Perhaps it was his icy blue eyes, or the upright way in which he walked, or the shock of long black hair that hung down the right side of his face and trailed down his back. Whatever the reason, this creature was far more evil in manner than others of his foul race; A twisted countenance of both man and monster. 

"Ah," he said, his voice also surprisingly smooth. "My prey is found at last. You led quite a merry chase, but I'm afraid the sacrifice of your poisoned friend did little to slow me down." 

"You're outnumbered," I countered with more confidence than I felt. Aerel and Eradan came closer to my side, drawing their swords as one with the distinctive ring of metal. The orc grinned crookedly, revealing sharp teeth as white as clean linen. 

"Do you know why they call me the Dark One?" The creature asked, stalking along the outskirts of the field. I turned to face him, watching the shadows around us for any sign of enemies. After receiving no response, he continued. "I was created from the darkness of the mind of Morgoth himself. I languished in darkness for years upon years, cogs and gears and the hot hiss of molten ore my only companion to cherish and loathe. But now... Now I am the only one left to still hold that darkness within."

He drew his cruel blades, each about the length of my forearm and forged of blackened steel. As he brought them to his lips and murmured some dark incantation, they began to glow with blue fire, curling and licking around the blades. 

"What sorcery is this?" Eradan gasped. 

"You will all know what true darkness is before your lives are brought to an end!" He cried, leaping forward with both blades held high. Four more orcs emerged from the bushes, each wearing black war paint and wielding similar curved daggers. The Dark One immediately fixated on me, twirling his weapons in his hands as he circled me like a lion circling an antelope. I was a veteran of many battles, but I had yet to face an orc with this much charisma. 

He made the first move, executing an experimental overhead strike to see how I would react. I responded with a measured parry, careful not to overcompensate. With a fierce smile he attacked more aggressively, forcing me to go on the defensive early. His movements were graceful, like that of a man, which was even more disconcerting to me. What was worse was that he still had the strength of an orc. 

Several more strikes forced me to retreat, taking several steps backward until I could feel the wet squelch of mud under my feet. I felt my back foot slide slightly, and just that slight hesitation was enough for the Dark One to take advantage of it. He used a sideways sweep to take me even further off balance, and before I could counter a swift kick sent me to the ground. With a grunt I deflected another strike that was aimed for my head, but as I tried to raise myself up from the ground my hand slipped in the mud again. I scrambled back, intent now only on gaining enough distance to get back up. 

The orc saw this, and every time I started to get far enough away he closed the distance, knocking me back to the ground with precise blows. With each attack, I felt the white hot flames burning me. His footwork was perfect, and there was no way I would be able to trip him up. 

One final blow wrenched my sword from my grip, sending it flying out of reach several feet away. I expected the foul creature to gloat, giving me a moment to recover or scamper away, but instead he hardly paused his attacks, forcing me to lift up my arms to protect myself from his attacks. Though my bracers were strong, I could feel each strike chipping away at them, the flames softening the metal with their intense heat. 

"Eradan, help me!" I shouted, panicking as my left bracer finally gave way. The next attack sliced deep into my flesh, and I let out an involuntary scream of pain. I glanced in Eradan's direction, but several more orcs had materialized from the mist and seemed to be overpowering him as well. Another strike seemed as though it would sever my arm completely, so I did the unexpected.

As the blade descended, I reached up with my hand, grabbing the sharp metal before it had time to gain momentum. It immediately cut through my thick leather gloves, but they slowed it enough to stop it from cutting through my hand. I pushed up with all my might, taking the Dark One off balance for the first time since the fight began. At the same time, I swept his legs out from under him with a sideways kick, knocking him into the mud beside me. I used the leverage of the blade to twist myself until I was on top of him, my weight keeping his free arm pinned to the ground. He let out a growl as he grappled with me for the blade, attempting to regain control of his weapon. Even with only one free arm, he was still far stronger than I, and I knew that this would be a losing battle if I allowed it to continue. With each passing moment, the wound in my arm grew more and more painful, and I would feel my strength waning. I had to end this, soon.

With a shout of determination, I sent my elbow full-force into his face. I could immediately feel the crack of broken bones, and with the dark blood that almost instantly soaked my forearm, I knew that I had struck true. He released his hold on the blade, and I threw it away as I landed another strike to his broken nose. A shriek of agony rose from his throat as I repeatedly pummeled him, not willing to stop until I could feel the life leaving his body.

Unfortunately, my intense focus had caused me to ignore one important detail: In the struggle, my weight had shifted from his arm, and it was now free. 

I realized that fact a moment too late. A sharp pain suddenly manifested itself in my side, forcing me to roll off of him to escape it. As I did, my hand brushed against the hilt of a dagger that was already deeply embedded in my side. 

The Dark One let out a shrill, inhuman laugh as he leapt to his feet. "You fool! If the wound doesn't kill you, the poison surely will." 

Almost as if his words had brought it about, a sudden rush of nausea came over me and I had to fight the urge to retch. My vision began to blur, and as I attempted to rise the dizziness forced me back to the ground. The foul orc stood over me, planting his foot on my chest and bending down until his face was mere inches from mine. 

"This world is not much longer for your kind, atan," he whispered, pulling his dagger from my side and rising it to his broken nose, sniffing it as if the smell of my blood was already little more than a pleasant memory. "Ending your life now is a mercy... You must trust me on this fact. I saw my kind falter and diminish, until they were little more than a weak shadow of what they once were. You do not want the same fate." He lifted the dagger high above his head, as if about to commit a ritual sacrifice. I closed my eyes, knowing that my time had come... But the killing blow never came. 

A blast of light practically blinded me, despite my eyes being closed. The Dark One let out a hideous, unearthly screech and my eyes flew open. The monster was now cowering, hissing as he hid his sallow eyes from a piercing light that emanated from a few feet away, risen high like a flaming star. 

"Let the shadows reclaim you, miserable creation of Morgoth!" A voice shouted. It was amplified many times over, yet it was difficult to miss the confident tone of Aerel over the commotion. 

"Curse you, Light of Eru! Curse you!" The orc shrieked, every semblance of humanity gone. Now, little more than a miserable wretch of an orc stood in the place of the Dark One, groveling and drooling like a mere beast. 

"Turin, now!" Aerel exclaimed. "I cannot hold him for much longer!" 

I moved immediately, my adrenaline numbing me to the crippling pain I would surely be overcome by once it wore away. The Dark One's cursed blade lay mere inches away, and I spared no time reaching for its leather-bound hilt. As soon as my fingers made contact with it, I swung, intent only on hitting my foe. Whether by blind luck or the will of Eru Illuvatar Himself, my strike was strong enough to cut cleanly through his shoulder and sail through to his neck, severing his foul head from his shoulders. As abruptly as he had come into our lives, he departed them, his lifeless corpse collapsing to the ground with a splash as the murky water claimed him. 

The light faded, and now I could see Aerel clearly, her hands held aloft in some sort of prayer. Her expression was one of relief, and upon seeing me on my feet she swiftly ran to my side. Eradan, who had been overwhelmed by orcs mere seconds before, was shouting in triumph as the bowlegged creatures fled into the mist. 

"What... How did you do that?" I asked Aerel, pointing to her hands, which had moments ago been the source of that blinding light. 

"I... I do not know," she whispered, as if she was reluctant to believe what had just happened. "I am no wizard, if that's what you believe now."

"Nay, my lady, you're far too fair and not nearly bearded enough to be a wizard," Eradan said, giving her a sly wink as he did. She let out a clear laugh before turning back to me. 

"You're injured, Turin. Let me look over your wounds."

I shook my head and held my hand out. The pain had returned, but seemed dull, as though the wound had already healed. "No, I am fine. We are nearly at our journey's end, I feel. If by some stroke of fortune we arrive at Minas Tirith, the healers will look after me there. But I have a feeling... No, an intuition, that I shall not live to see those white walls again."

A sadness came over me at the thought, and as we continued onward, leaving the sinking corpse of the Dark One behind, I knew in my heart that my words were true. 

New chapter after all this time! I give no promises this time, but I'm hoping to finish this book shortly! Thank you all for sticking with it! :)