2 Lammoth

Had it been days or weeks? Time escaped me. There was no day or night, the winter was unending, and rest was a luxury rarely found.

Many times I thought to give up, yet the fear of death kept me going. Perhaps I was a coward for my determination to live was based on fear.

Nillendil was the opposite, she moved for love, our eldest brothers were among the Host of Feanor, and she wanted to reunite with them at all costs.

But I cared not for anyone around, for all were strangers, and I was alone, in heart and mind. A soul lost in space and time.

But alas, fear and willpower can only take one so far.

My legs gave out for this body was frail, everywhere I felt numb, and my vision slowly turned dark.

I knew then that I was going to die, my effort and will could not change the harsh reality. This second chance at life was lost...

Or so I thought.

Nillendil cried out but she was barely moving on her own, how could she save me?

She could not save Elion when he had died in the same way, why would she be able to save me?

And so I closed my eyes and gave up, awaiting death. My mind grew sleepy.

The next thing I knew, was movement. I was in some sort of carriage? Someone had laid me on something and was dragging me with it.

I opened my eyes and saw a majestic male elf. He looked like Fingon but seemed far wiser. He pulled onto whatever I was laying on and dragged it.

I heard voices around me.

"Why is Lord Fingolfin helping him? Can't others do it?"

"It is said that he came back from the dead once. He carries a great destiny... That's what Lord Fingolfin said and decided to help him himself."

I realized from the voices that this elf was actually Fingolfin, the elf that was going to become the first high king of Noldor in Beleriand. I felt grateful but I couldn't move at all, so I just stayed silent.

A while passed as Fingon came to Fingolfin, his father, and said, "We have reached Lammoth."

"Good, we will not rest for the time, we must make it out of the snow first." Was the reply he got.

Fingon nodded and walked away.

The elves seemed to cheer up as they began talking about many things, I ignored most of it and stared at the dark sky.

I didn't realize how long had passed when the sound of a Horn came from far away. Everyone came to an instant stop. Weapons raised and ready for battle.

"Father, there is an attack from the rear!" Fingon was quick to say, Fingolfin drew his sword and began giving orders.

In a matter of seconds, I heard the clash of blades from far away, I tried to move to no avail.

I could see nothing, but I heard the fighting get closer, anxiety and worry filled my heart.

Suddenly, an arrow found its way right beside my head, missing by an inch. I gulped nervously and gathered all my strength to move my head to the side and see what was going on.

Chaos.

Hideous creatures that I recognized as Orcs were fighting with the elves, the white ground was stained with red and black blood. Bodies of both sides fell to the ground, but the elves were winning.

That, however, did not mean that I was safe, a few Orcs were far too close to me. The elves near me were pushed back, an ax was thrown and nearly hit me in the leg.

At that moment I came to hate my weakness, I could not even move to save myself. I was at the mercy of others.

I hated this destiny, one of weakness. I had to do something, this fate was not one I liked to experience.

I grew angry and forgot my fear at that moment.

A head flew and blood was splattered on my face. The head fell in front of me. It belonged to an elf I had seen before from afar.

The Orc responsible spotted me and approached with a menacing smile, my anger grew.

He brought his sword up to behead me. Time seemed to slow down for me, I saw every detail.

My mind was in chaos.

Fear of death gave birth to hatred. From hatred was born Anger that turned to rage, and rage to furious flames that burned within me.

I hated the cold, I hated my weakness, I hated death.

As the sword approached me, something changed. The flames of fury from within began pouring out.

Like an explosion, the fire moved everywhere with me as the center. The Orc was blown away, eaten by fire.

All the cold was banished from me, I could move again.

And move I did, ignoring the fire that didn't burn me, but was born of me.

Only one name came to my mind at that moment, "Exort."

The golden fire consumed everything.