Though many of the soldiers were still awake in silent vigil for their fallen comrades, Gerithor felt overcome with grief and exhaustion. He had not slept for several days, and the emotion and stress had finally taken their toll.

He found a spot far away from where the others had camped, in the ruined skeleton of an old house in a remote corner of the city. Here no voice could be heard, save the mournful call of a solitary owl that had nested somewhere in the rafters. The burnt supports of the building creaked ominously, sounding as if they could give way at any moment.

The ranger sat down in the corner of the house, his back rested against one of the main supports. His mind was clouded with sorrow, for he couldn't help but think about Flicker. The ranger had been loyal, almost to a fault. If Gerithor told him to do something, he'd carry the orders out joyfully, often whistling as he did so. He whistled a certain tune that Gerithor couldn't quite recall, and he attempted to remember...

Ah yes, that was it, he thought as the tune came back to him along with a rush of memories. It was a mournful song, if one knew the words to it. But Flicker seemed to not realize that, and when he whistled it it sounded happy and carefree. Gerithor remembered the words though... and they did little to comfort him. He began to slowly sing, his voice breaking slightly as he remembered.

Home is behind
The world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight

Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall...fade

 Fear is below
The skies above
And I must carry hope and love
With courage
I must now be strong
This journey shall be cold and long

Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade...

Darkness is near
The light is far
And in the sky a shining star
To guide me
On this road of fate
To keep this journey safe and straight

Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
All shall fade
All shall fade...  (1)

The song's words were written by a hobbit wordsmith, though the tune itself was as old as the mountains themselves. Aragorn had taught it to the rest of the rangers, though it was strangely solemn for such a carefree people as the halflings.

A solitary tear fell down Gerithor's face as the words hit home. Never again would he hear the laughter of those he had lost, save in his dreams. Never again would he see the face of his mother, or father. Flicker's cheerful disposition would no longer pull Gerithor from the pit of despair.  Though he would see them again in his dreams, he would lose them again as soon as morning came.

It was these dark thoughts that lulled the lonely ranger into a cold, fitful sleep...

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

Gerithor woke up to the sound of hissing. He immediately leapt up to find himself surrounded by hundreds of writhing black snakes, many of them slithering over each other and creating a repulsive moving landscape. Though the ground was mostly covered he could distinctly tell that he was in a desert, for he could see vast dunes in the distance. He frantically scanned the area, looking for a way to escape the snakes. In the distance, he could see a massive stone block, intricately carved and looking strangely out of place. Dwarven architecture, he thought to himself. Strange that it's here, it feels oddly out of place.

He began to wade through the sea of snakes, careful not to anger them. Though they followed him, they did not attempt to bite him. This gave him an uneasy feeling, as if they were waiting for something...

He stepped onto an unusual looking patch of green grass. It appeared as if the grass was well watered... Taken care of, even. Why's grass in a desert? 

He shrugged, for the moment more intent on escaping the snakes than discovering the origin of the grass. Unfortunately, no sooner had he stepped onto the patch of grass than one of the snakes lunged at him, biting into his boot.

He stifled a cry of pain as he desperately attempted to shake the snake off. Though he kicked and swung, the snake would not release its viselike grip. Gerithor could feel the fangs sinking deeper into his flesh, and his foot began to go numb...

Suddenly a bright light flashed to his left, and the snake immediately let go. No sooner had it detached from the ranger's foot than it shriveled into a dark husk, soon dissolving entirely into the sand below. The same happened to many of the other snakes, save those directly surrounding the dwarven stone.

From the light a warrior emerged, clad in silver and wielding an elven blade. A crown of leaves sat upon his brow, and his flowing white hair swirled around his face like a storm, concealing it.

"Glorfindel?" Gerithor called out. But the ranger quickly saw that it was not his companion, for this warrior stood taller than the legendary warrior and an aura of ancient power surrounded him like a cloak. He seemed almost akin to Elrond, though his power was darker somehow... as if he had long fought the shadow and had allowed some of it to take hold inside him.

His face glowed with an unnatural light, preventing Gerithor from recognizing the warrior. He suddenly spoke, his voice rich and filled with poetic wisdom.

"You walk heavily for one so light-footed, ranger. As if the burden of a million souls lies upon your back, their voices quenched by the darkness of evening." He came closer, every step tempered as of one well-versed in the ways of royalty.

"Who are you?" Gerithor asked. The warrior's words were cryptic but intriguing. He felt as if they had met before... but perhaps not in this life. 

"I am one whom you will meet when your need is dire. When your feet meet the threshold of the fallen paradise, you will hear my call at the gate of ivory."

"What of the snakes? Why are they here?" Gerithor inquired.

"They are but grains of sand carried by the wave of darkness. They march, then they stop. Destruction follows in their wake, but together we may end their schemes. Stay wary, for the one who leads them will seek to deceive you with false knowledge of the future." The warrior turned and began to walk away, but Gerithor reached out to him.

"Where is this 'fallen paradise' you speak of? And how will I know when I get there?"

The warrior turned, his face still concealed by his flowing hair.

"Follow the sunrise. You will know when you arrive." Gerithor was slightly taken aback by the figure's words, for they were no longer riddles.

"The East-West road. Thank you." Gerithor bowed in thanks, and the warrior returned the gesture.

After a moment of wary silence, the figure turned once more and disappeared into thin air, as if he had never been there in the first place. Gerithor nodded slowly, his next steps clear.

The mountains will be our next destination. As for the warrior... he shook his head, unsure of what he had seen. I only hope he's real and not a mere phantom.

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

Little did the ranger know, but while he slept he was being watched. Three pairs of glowing eyes observed him from atop the crumbling wall of the city, their owners speaking quietly among themselves.

"Hang the Lady! Oi say we attack now!" One orc scout growled, fingering the dagger at his side as he spoke.

The largest of the three, Lurkai, backhanded the smaller orc across the face. "The lady's orders are the ones we follow. If you wanna disobey... You'll have more than the ranger to worry about."

"Aye... But we should contact the Lady. Her orders may have changed," Maugash, the orc shaman, replied. "We can't use the ravens though... No. they'd be spotted by the nasty far-eye elves." 

"Create the link then. We'll contact her directly this time," Lurkai signaled the two orcs to follow him as he leapt down from the pile of rubble and made his way back into the trees. Maugash grinned evilly as the trio came upon a clearing in the trees. He stepped into the middle of it and held his staff outward, and the runes on it began to glow fiery orange. The other two orcs watched as the orc shaman began to utter strange incantations in Elvish, and the black stone atop his staff began to glow with a pale light. 

"Fuin mab i aur uin calad, men nalla heruin uin i Gorth Galadh an enc cened."(2) 

The words sounded foul and deadly coming from the lips of the sinister orc, who twisted them until they no longer bore any kinship to Elvish. Like acid they poured from his tongue, and when the last word had been uttered his let out a chilling cry as he lifted his head to the heavens and stretched his tattooed arms outward in front of him. 

The ground around him shook, and strange, rootlike cracks began to form. From one of them rose the form of a woman, cloaked in black and her face concealed by a velvet hood. Her bearing was regal, but somehow unnatural. A large black raven sat perched on her shoulder, and its beady eyes watched all three orcs warily.

"Why have you called me hence?" The woman asked, her voice seeming to come from far away.

"The attack on Mithlond failed as you predicted m'lady," Lurkai said reverently. "We await new orders." 

The woman began to slowly pace back and forth, her long legs carrying her a great distance with each stride. "Were there many survivors?" 

"No, m'lady. But reinforcements from Rivendell came to their aid, along with dwarves from the northern reaches. Attacking again so soon would be folly."

The woman tsked as she approached Lurkai. "Do you think I would be so blind as to think another attack prudent? Of course we will not attack... Not yet. Make haste for the Redhorn Pass. Some... Friends of mine will meet you there. It will be here that you will make your first move." 

"Your word is my command, m'lady," Lurkai replied as he put a fist to his chest. 

The woman nodded, and a cruel smile could be discerned from under her hood. "Oh... And make sure that the Ranger doesn't make it east of the mountains."

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

1. Edge of Night Cover by Jordi Francis. The second and third verses are written by him. 

2. Darkness takes the warmth of light, we call the lady of the Dead Tree to our sight.

This was difficult to translate so I just did it word-for-word. 

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this chapter! This is actually the last chapter of Act 1, the epilogue will be coming early next week! Get ready for Act 2!