Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

B2MeM 2011: Haradhrim Nights  by Mirach

Day 27: Rohan

Challenge: A horse is the projection of peoples' dreams about themselves - strong, powerful, beautiful - and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence. --Pam Brown

Write a story or poem, or create a piece of art where your character rises above themselves to follow their dreams.


Trial by Fire

The sun was rising. Thorongil closed his eyes, desperately wishing he could be somewhere else. He could not, however. For days, he has been on the run. Now he finally turned to face his enemies, and found out they were too many. He defeated Dűrnaur, but then his strength finally gave up, and he could not resist when they have taken him… beaten him… The night was a blur of voices and faces and pain. He thought there was one friendly face among them, but that was probably just his imagination. There couldn’t be a friendly face in this place.

Now he hung by his wrists, bound to a high stake in the middle of the square before the tower. The sun was rising, and the Corsairs were carrying something… he tried to focus his vision. They were building three heaps of wood and dry leaves around the stake, some distance apart from it. He recognized the man with snake voice that he saw with Kadar. He was ordering them now, behaving like their leader. He wondered shortly where Kadar is, but then his attention was drawn to the man again. He had a torch in his hands. He knew that should worry him, but his thoughts were slow and muddled.

The sun rose. It was quiet, just the sputtering of the torch interrupted the silence.

With effort Thorongil raised his head and looked straight into Nazim’s eyes. His look was proud, unwavering.  Nazim averted his eyes after a while, and quickly sank the torch into one heap of wood. “For the ships you burned,” he said with hatred in his voice.

The flames began licking the wood. “For Umbar that should belong to the Corsairs,” Nazim approached the second heap of wood and lit it up.

Finally, he stopped above the third heap, and lowered the torch. “For the glory of the Eye,” he said, and stepped back, watching with a smirk on his face as the flames began devouring the wood. Like hungry snakes they winded around it, gathering strength, shooting up like attacking cobras. The heaps of wood were positioned carefully – too far to burn directly. No, that would be too quick. The heat and smoke, and the merciless rays of the sun that will ascend soon would be enough…

Thorongil still watched him intently, but soon he had to close his eyes before the stinging smoke. Nazim smiled triumphantly.

-oOo-

The sun was a blazing disc on the sky. So close, somewhere behind the dancing flames… He could see it even with closed eyes. Its rays burned his naked skin. Or were it the flames? They were one, one inseparable torment. The heat was getting unbearable. He could feel a trickle of sweat running down his temples, and the unpleasant feeling of dried blood. The stinging smoke made his eyes tear. He wished he could keep that all – the sweat, the blood, the tears. Water. Water in any form. He was desperately thirsty, his throat so dry that it hurt. The smoke made him cough, and that hurt even more.  

Again he wished he could be somewhere else, but knew how futile such wishes are. There was just the sun and the fire, the pain and thirst. The faces behind the flames were blurry, unreal. The blood pounded in his temples with a dark, heavy rhythm. The flames seemed closer and closer. The sun covered the entire sky. It was hard to breathe. The pain in his wounds was growing with every breath. His body arched in a convulsion. For a moment his vision darkened, but still he could see the sun, like imprinted in his eyes. A moan escaped his cracked lips. How long yet? Oh Valar, how long will he have to suffer so?

Every moment lasted ages. He struggled for breath, but the air in his lungs was hot and filled with smoke. The Corsairs, the nomads – they were all in a different world. His world was filled with pain and fire.

He closed his eyes, and tried to remember something else. There had to be something else in the world, not just the flames and the merciless face of the sun. There had to be…

Arwen… A thought rose in his mind like a frail butterfly among the flames. There was a scent of fresh leaves in the air, and the gentle wind swayed the birch branches… Beyond the sun, beyond the flames, he could see the kind face of an elven maiden; he could hear the sound of waterfalls in Rivendell, feel the cool shower on his face. He knew it was not real, it was a dream, but he was thankful for it. He would have wept, but he had no tears left. From a great distance, he could hear sounds – cries and clang of steel. They meant nothing to him anymore.

He rose above the fire and pain to embrace his dream.





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List