Fading Legends: Prologue
by Camilla Sandman
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The world is less than it was.

The wind speaks to me of this, as I stand in the highest tower at Minas Tirith, tears flowing freely down my face. A few people look up at me, but I care not. They grieve too.

My father is dead, and my mother is gone.

And I have no idea what to do with my life.

I am of two worlds. My father was Aragorn and my mother was Arwen, and I am Elvish and human both. But there is no choice. I must be human.

Yet, as I stand up here, I see far, much further than any human should see.

Middle-earth is changing. Lothlórien is fading. Rivendell is abandoned, and no one can find the valley where it once was. My heart sings of the sea, but there are no ships. The Havens are silent. The elves have left.

All – save one.

~~~~~~

A cold wind brushed past them, reminding Legolas winter was coming. The wind seemed colder than usual, promising a harsh winter.

"If it truly is one of the seven rings, Legolas, the beauty we could create.. We could rebuild Moria more magnificent than ever.." Gimli, son of Glòin, chatted happily, not noticing his comrade’s distant look. As always, the dwarf was carrying his mighty axe, the one that had served him so well against the orcs of Sauron.

"I hear something," the Elf suddenly announced, and Gimli stopped at once, scanning the area.

"What is it?"

"I do not know." Legolas tensed. He had heard something, but the land was silent again. In the south, the mountain of Mordor towered, a reminder that no evil could ever truly vanish. It had sounded like whispers of Mordor, such as he had sometimes heard when Frodo had carried the ring.

Mordor! Even without Sauron there, it seemed dark and evil, and yet they were going there, in the vain hope that one of the seven Dwarven rings were still there.

Legolas doubted it, but Gimli had asked and he could not refuse the request. After Sauron’s fall, most of his followers had run, and some were said to still hide in the mountains of Mordor. There they had one last treasure, it was said. One ring.

Gimli was convinced it was one of the seven rings, as all others were accounted for. The Three had left. The Nine had vanished with the One.

Rumours. There was nothing substantial to back it up. But even so, it was a chance to feel the pull of adventure once more, and ignore the calling of the sea.

The sea... Middle-earth was changing. Its beauty was fading. The sea called, but Legolas had ignored its call for a long time.

The whisper came again, and Legolas felt his heart turn cold. It came from Mordor. Someone there was aware of them.

"I hear it," Gimli remarked, patting his axe.

"We should tell Aragorn of this," the Elf replied, not even waiting to see if the dwarf would follow before setting of towards the Minas Tirith.

The mountains of Mordor regarded them quietly.

| Part I |