The Dying of the Light: Part IX
Author: Elvensong

Chapter 9: Rage

Legolas fell to the power of the darkness. The fall was long and he could feel the light ebbing from his soul.  This would not be the end, his kind would prevail. 

            “You shall not defeat me.” His mind was fading, but his thoughts were still bent on overcoming this.

            “The light shall not be extinguished.” These were not words of his body, but words of his spirit calling out to the dark forces of the lands.  He whispered in his mind for help, help from the pain and an ending to the torture.

            “You shall not prevail!” Everything faded and the deepest black descended upon him. 




“Well, Frodo?” Gandalf stared and the Hobbit swallowed.  What were his choices?  Risk the mission or risk the life of his friend, which is more important.  When he thought of the size of the two problems, the answer became clear.

            “We will continue without him. He will catch up with us after he has found the answers he is looking for.” All did not share Frodo’s optimism.  The others knew what the Elf would face, alone. They packed and continued their quest towards Mordor, knowing the Elf could easily catch up and find them if he were able. 


            Aragorn said a quiet blessing in Elvish.  One spoke by his comrade not too long ago. 





            A call.  The power of the starlight which had once resided in Legolas heard a quiet call from far away.  It was very faint and growing ever distant.  It was about to be conquered by the forces which split them two. 

            This magic suddenly felt this was its last chance to destroy evil.  The stars of the heavens begun to glow brighter, coming to the aid of its comrade.  A power which had never been tapped before was growing ever brighter as the heavens united in one glow. 

            These forces came together and the evil power stood no match.  The spell was finally broken.  The power of the stars themselves coming to the aid of this unusual, magical power that was housed in one Elf. 



            Saruman stood atop his great fortress of darkness.  With him stood a podium that held the ancient parchment of the Kassno.  The bane of the Elves.  The dark wizard was working to gather his strength for he knew his would be the most draining task he would ever endeavor upon.  He stared at the parchment and smiled to himself that all this power was forced through something so old and worn.

            This was the key to the undoing of the Elvish race.  He would never completely dominate Middle Earth as long as the Elves existed.  Their light penetrated the land. It gave forests their glow, oceans their sparkle and was responsible for much of the natural beauty of the planet.  Their fair power illuminated every place where they dwelt. 

            While gathering his power he noticed something quite odd.  A sudden light enveloped this ancient spell.  A bright flash of flame occurred and in a small instant it was gone.  Saruman slowly walked over to the podium and what he saw shook him to his core.  How did this happen? Realization caught him as his eyes widened, and he knew that this menace could not be tapped without this one item.  He grew tense and screamed aloud into the night. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He thought to himself. ‘The one Elf had been destroyed.  The seeing stone’s vision has been altered, the rest of its race shall meet their end from the onslaught of my armies!’


            One the podium sat nothing but a small pile of ash where the dark spell had once lay.



Death, in the mentality of an Elf, was a foreign concept.  Immortals rarely give it much thought, for it was a choice for them rather than an unstoppable force. 

            Legolas had descended from the light of the living.  He lay unmoving and lifeless, however death had no power over his beauty.  Sheer and perfect, it did not fade.  He was still, like a graceful deer of the forest shot down by a hunter’s arrow.


            On a different plane lay his spirit, quite and alone.  It was here the light of power silently came to him, rejoining him.  It was in this moment and Legolas understood all.  This force was needed.  This force of light and air could help them when all other lights fade into nothingness.  The Fellowship needed him and he would go with them, he would stand with them on the brink of destruction.  Till the end of all their days he would he by their sides.


            Legolas’ body heaved with a giant breath which shook him to his core.  He slowly opened his eyes and saw the stars above him.  They suddenly seemed a little brighter. The Elf slowly stood, collecting himself.  He felt as if he were awakening from a long slumber.  Only he awoke with a greater strength, a strength which came with knowledge and wisdom.  Both he gained during his encounter on the spiritual path he had journeyed to.  He stood to begin his journey to rejoin the Fellowship.  Somehow he knew that his attacks from Saruman were ended.  Now he had others matters to attend. 

            The Elf entered the forest in order to catch up with his friends. As he crossed a stream, he noticed something.  He saw himself in the water.  His reflection was no longer the dark shell he had seen before, but brighter with magic and light. Brighter than he had ever known himself to look. He gave a small smile.


            He was ready to face Mordor. 


            The sun began to rise.





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