The Family Line Part 136 – Fallen Kin

Part 136 – Fallen Kin

A clash with the axe and staff sparked another strike of lightning. Kronog swung his axe one armed as his other arm was too weak from the blood pouring out from the sword wound. His wounds from the animals also made him weak. He was battling as hard as he could and swung wide from the lack of focus by the loss of blood from the many wouds he carried.

Theomin swiped his staff harder each time he could. His rage from what Kronog did to him took over and he could barely stop himself. His swings forcibly met Kronog’s axe, pushing it harder this way and that as he cried loudly each time he hit the axe. At a certain point, he was not aiming for Kronog as much as he was pounding the axe of his. At last, Theomin swiped his staff at Kronog’s legs and forced him to fall onto his back. Theomin then raised his staff to summon a bolt of lighting but Kronog quickly stood and jabbed Theomin’s stomach with the handle of his two handed axe. Theomin was pushed back which interrupted his lightning induction.

Kronog, almost spent of his energy, then swung his axe up into the air to have it hammer down on Theomin. Theomin stopped it with his staff and swung his staff to the side. It forced the axe out of Kronog’s hand. Kronog, without his axe, looked at Theomin. He collapsed to his knees and announced, “You beat me.” Extreme exhaustion caused him to quit as he raised out his arms much like Theomin had already done. “Kill me. Kill me like I was to do to you. Just end it, please. I am done.” He shut his worn-out eyes as he weakly bowed his head in anticipation for Theomin’s strike.

Theomin swung his staff which met Kronog in the head. He beat down Kronog with the staff and continued to beat him down. Such a vengeance he had that he lost himself in it. With each hit with the staff, Theomin could remember each beat down by Kronog in Bree. He then dropped his staff and kicked Kronog time after time, repeatedly striking him in the stomach and then in the face. He did so with kick after kick as Kronog continued to feebly take each kick.

“Theomin!” Sylderan came and stopped him. He wrapped his arm around Theomin’s chest to pull him back. “Step back, Theomin! My sword was line with poison. He would die anyway.” Theomin looked Sylderan in the eyes and for a moment, it was as if Sylderan did not see his friend anymore. For a moment, it was as if an agent of evil was in Theomin’s eyes forcing him to torture Kronog. Sylderan pulled back with fear in his eyes. He let go of Theomin and stepped back.

Such look of fear in Sylderan’s eyes excited Theomin as he felt he had absolute power over him. He felt a sudden strength he had never felt before, as if the sudden power of all evil eneveloped his body. He knew that the strength could take all of Middle Earth and his lust for power was beginning to invade his veins and his mind was becoming free of all guilt and his feelings of slaughtering all had gripped him in a moment of pure bloodlust.

But it was a sudden realization from the cowering of Sylderan that he realized he drove fear into his friend’s heart. The rage and bloodlust that had began to take over his heart and mind began to regress and he felt a sudden mortification over his actions. He placed his hands over his face, “I am so sorry.” He then looked over to Kronog. “Forgive me.” He wept for his body was weakened by the invading feeling of hatred.

With a deep breath, Theomin gathered himself and walked over to the man who once beat him with no remorse. He crouched next to the broken shell of a man and pulled up Kronog by the hair and said to him, “You will corrupt my heart no more. I release you from the evil you have done to me. Though I feel it in my sould to do so, I will not kill you. But at the same time, I do not have to save you.”

He placed Kronog’s head down as it almost fell with weakness of his limp body. His pupples were dialated and blood poured through his broken nose. He lay there with almost no life in his body as his breathing slowed.

Theomin looked away from Kronog as he cared not to watch his former enemy die. Instead, he turned to look at the lake of Evendim from the cliff of Tyl Annun. The sky, with normal clouds beginning to drift into it, reflected off the clear waters of the lake. The hills surrounding the valley of Evendim were green and beautiful again. Songs came from the returning birds. He closed his eyes and took in the victory they had. He then walked to his father’s grave and stood at the stones that made up his memorial and stayed there.

 

The warmth of the sun poured through the disapating clouds in Evendim. The reminence of the last Angmarim were still fighting to the last man as the combined efforts of the men from Bree, Trestlebridge, Dunland, the Lone Lands, the Rangers and the elves and dwarves worked to finish them off.

With the sunlight shining through, the marrovial whome depended on the darkness of the void, fled or were killed by the many arrows of the elves. The orcs too were slaughtered. The fight, which had lasted for more than a day, was almost over. Victory was soon at hand and the remaining men, dwarves, and elves looked around at their many dead. Too many dead. Dead beyond the feel of anguish.

Soon after the light of day shone through and light poured onto the lands of Evendim, new clouds began to cover the city. They were not clouds of evil nature nor did they have an ominous feel to them. The clouds were gentle and peaceful. A few drops began to fall on the lands and soon, the rain of nature came pouring from the clouds. The water of nature began, then, to wash away all the stains of blood and pain from the grounds of Annuminas.

Magla looked over the city that had just been retaken. Black orc blood combined with red man blood soaked his hammer has he dropped it in exhaustion. It was a long hard battle, one which he never wanted to take part in again. He was finished with war. He was done battling. He had hoped the battle in Annuminas was his last.

He soon approached his comrads in arms, those who were left over. Eleswith was one who was staring at the city from atop the stairs of Tyl Annun. Her long gaze at the city was akin to his own, longing, sad and drained. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “We are finished,” he said as she looked over at Magla. “The city is taken back.”

She looked back at the city and said longingly, “I know.” She contintinued to stare at the city as she continued, “We won. We battled a great foe and have victory. I should feel a sense of pride but alas I have not the feeling of pride.” As she continued to gaze, a single tear fell down her cheek. “I feel loss. I feel sadness.”

“I too feel that way,” Magla said. “I care not to return to battle. I care not to stay in this place. I care not to take any more lives of men or orcs. As a mayor of Bree, I had the feeling I was making lives better. Not taking them. I only fear that my decision to come here shortened those I swore to make better.”

“Your decision was made for you,” Eleswith told Magla. “No one else told the others to come. They did so on their own. Do not take the blame for their deaths.”

“I should not,” Magla said, “but as mayor, I wonder how many would have stayed in Bree had I not made that rash decision to join in the battle?”

Estonethiel came to join in the conversation, “You will never know the answer to that. You can ponder for the rest of your life with questions like that. But in the end, what good will that do? You will not do anybody any favors by thinking of such questions. What you should do is live and show strength for those who still need you. Do not abandon them by being sucked into the past.”

“How can I do that?” Magla had to ask.

“Rise each day and face the problems of that day one at a time,” Estonethiel said. She then began to walk away. “More than that I cannot tell you. You have to find that strength yourself.”

“Where are you going?” Eleswith asked.

“I need to find Sergee,” Estonethiel said.

“What if he’s dead?” Magla asked.

She stopped and almost looked back but did not. Instead she just said, “He’s not. I can still feel him.”

She continued down the steps and crossed the bridge of the Ariant. She walked up to Tirband and then crossed the bridge over the water to Clorhir. She knew exactly where to go because with each step, she could feel his prensence growing stronger. She could not see, but her vision was greatly widened by the lack of sight. In a sense, she could not be angry with the drake for taking her vision. She could only thank him for widening her sight. She soon felt she was upon Sergee and felt the sadness coming from Sergee’s heart. A loss he felt as he cradled the body of his fallen brother in his arms.

“I killed him, Estonethiel,” Sergee said. “I killed my brother.”

“I know,” she replied. “You did what you felt was right.”

“I know it was right,” he said with sadness, “but I did not want to.”

Estonethiel sat next to Sergee and placed her head on Sergee’s shoulder. “The earth is washing away the stains of blood and death from this land. With the rains, new life shall spring from it. Tomorrow, we will celebrate it. Now, we are allowed to mourn the death of our kin.” After that, she stayed quiet there as he did as well. So, they sat there for a while in silence as he then lowered his head onto hers. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of his brother’s death, but of her. Her warmth helped him feel restored in strength and in his heart. A while passed but eventually he began to accept what he did.

 

Evening came and Theomin was still at the grave of his father. He sat at the edge of Ost Elendil as he just felt the slight breeze come in. Not a chill wind that preceeded the battle. It was a warm breeze that gently shook the pine needles up in the nearby tree. Sergee came and joined him by his side.

“Teryndir is dead,” he said.

“I thought as much,” Theomin said. “I know that because I could feel a small part of me died.”

“I have more to tell you,” Sergee said to Theomin. “My heart mourns for you as I fear to tell you. Your friend from Rohan.”

“I know, Sergee,” Theomin said. “I passed his body as I came up to Tyl Annun. I know he is dead I just,” he stopped for a good long while before he could continue, “I just cannot bear to go to him just now. I…” he paused again for a while, “I need to gather my thoughts and grieve in my own time. Such bad news can only be taken in small steps. Much has happened in this battle. So much evil has happened. I need to feel the peace return to my body. But I feel it not returning.”

“Do you believe it will ever return to you?” Sergee asked.

“I hope it does,” Theomin said. “I cannot bear the scars of hate in me. I cannot feel the stress of vengeful feelings consume me.”

“Then let us sit here in silence, just as you have wanted,” Sergee said.

Soon, others joined in. Magla came and sat close. Eleswith joined soon after. Sylderan came after that and Estonethiel and Lily as well. Ariel then came but did not sit. All she did was gazed out over the lake much like Theomin did a while ago. The sun had been fading as the red tinges of the falling sun cast shadows on the valley and gave all things in the valley a red hue. All sat in silence for the remaineder of the evening and into the night.

 

It was midnight, all had left the monument where Theomin and Sergee’s father was layed. Theomin left too and came to the body of his fallen friend from Rohan. He knelt down next to Eotheron and touched his dead corpse. He ran his hands through his soft hair and remembered when Eotheron shaved his head bald. He remembered as kids playing in Rohan and of the time he rescued his friend from the Easterlings at the shores of the Anduin. He remembered the farm he lived at in the Wold. He could picture his sister sitting in the bench outside and the swings at the front of the house. He could see the treehouse just outside his house and the view of Harwick from the hilltop. He remembered home.

Being with Eotheron made him want to return home. I was, at last, time to leave. His duty to the land of Eriador had ended and his home was calling all the louder in his heart. But how would he return? How would he come back with there was so much evil that had come into his being? Regardless, he needed to return.

He then looked back at Eotheron, “My friend,” he said with tears welling up in his eyes. “I will miss you. I will miss you so much. I know not know what to tell your family as I feel like they are my family too. All we have gone through as kids and then here in Eriador. I wish I could share those memories longer in Rohan. I wish we could share them together.” He looked down with sadness as a tear dropped from his eye, “But that is not meant to be. With you, Eotheron, today a little bit of me died too.” He looked around, “If you could hear me, I will always hold you close to my heart. Thank you for following me to Eriador. Thank you for sharing your last days here with me. Thank you for your love and thank you for looking after me. I will always miss you.”

He crouched over and embrassed his dead friend in the last hug he will ever be able to give to him. Theomin held on, more tears rolled down his nose as he was bent over to hug his friend. He could still smell his friend as his scent had not gone away. It reminded him of playing in the grass of the Wold. It reminded him of laughing and play fighting. He smiled as he sat up. He closed his eyes and saw his friend’s smiling face amongst the dry grasses of the Wold. He could almost feel the warm wind fly through his hair and the warm sun beating on his face. He could smell the sharp smell of pine and for a moment, he was there in Rohan. Eotheron was smiling back at Theomin as he could almost hear his friend say, “I will be fine, Theomin. I am now where I belong.”

He came back to his wits. It was as if he was transported to Rohan and all the feelings and smells and sights were suddenly stripped away. He was back in the cold dark of Eriador. The death of Annuminas began to sink in on him again and reality returned. He wanted to leave. He had a sudden urge to run out of the city in disgust; but though he had that need, he could not leave his friend there. He stayed with him, laying next to him for the remainder of the night. As he layed there, instead of the death of his friend, he only remembered him back in life and back in the Wold and smiling. He will always remember his friend back at home and saying that was where he belonged.