RP 🎲 RP 36: Redemption

Eäritila walked lightly behind Maedhros, but her mind stumbled blackly. Her escape from the tunnels beneath the mountain had been simpler than she would have guessed, but part of her was still filled with the noisome darkness.

Tangles of brambles seemed to bar their way out of the steep sided valley, but whether by instinct or some elvish magic they made their way through hidden paths never faltering. The scent of nettles and wild flowers thickened the air, but Eäritila heeded it not. The air chilled her and she shivered, and wondered for it seemed the first time that the world had seemed so cheerless.

In her mind she ran endlessly through tunnels of blackness. Running. On and on. Faster and faster. But she was not running from fear but towards it. Drawn not from evil but to it. And then her feet would splashing to water and she would jolt back to the bright and cold of the mountains… but for a moment. For the waking world seemed but a dream…

There was Maedhros. Why did he look at her like that? She began to open her mouth to speak… but stopped. Anger grew.

The dark waters hissed and she shuddered. She backed up and the ripples scampered on the edge of her dream. Eäritila paused in the darkness and listened for the sound of orc-feet behind her. Silence except a whisper. What was that? She remembered a thought but couldn’t reach it. It dangled tantalising, niggling. She groped towards it and then recoiled from its touch. It felt loathsome, appalling, but intriguing.

She looked around wildly, where was she? Waters dripped, was there rain on the leaves? Gnarled trees curled and grasped towards her. Maedhros was ahead, shining, like light in a doorway. Blackness closed around her.

She was back in the cave and there seemed to be a boat but no oarsman. A hiss, was it fear? Her bright eyes strained, she could discern noone but the feeling of evil grew. There it was again, like a voice in her mind. She stared out across the water, fixated. Then, she shook herself and she sat hunched down and thought. How long had she stood and stared? She did not know. The boat had gone, like a dream.

I must get out! Our quest awaits! I must find Maedhros. Maedhros! She thought of his fair and timeless face, sad and noble. Noble? What is his claim to nobility? Remember your kin, your home in Alqualonde. What are you doing here? Your father, your family gave you not their blessing. You broke allegiance to your people to come hither, to the dark places of the earth, full of foulness and despair. And for whom? He who slew your people. Maedhros stood proudly at the prow of white ship, but blood dripped from his sword.

She shuddered, and almost cried out. She roused herself and was stumbling off the path, tangling into thorn-bushes blindly. Ai! Elbereth! Blood was before her eyes. It was the blood of mariners of the Teleri hacked down by savage swords, it streamed into her eyes as she cried. Ai! Vengeance!

No.. but it was her blood, a savage thorn-needle had cut her. The pain aroused her. ‘Where am I?’ she cried violently, raging. ‘Where is the black king? The Eye is upon us!’

Barahir had followed Maedhros, but became worried when he saw the strange behaviour of Eäritila. He felt great evil ahead, but had not the senses of the Eldar. He saw her watching Maedhros, saw her eyes cloud up with . . . . what? Rage? Fear? Vengeance? He could not tell. When she ran madly from the path, paying no head to his cries, he followed her. Her violent cries shook him. Uncertain what to do, he simply knelt beside her.
"I know not of what you speak, but great evil awaits us. Were it not for Caimarë, I would urge us to flee this foul place. Come, we must not be separated, we must follow Maedhros."
Eäritila's eyes smouldered when she heard the name.
"What has brought you to hate him? Have you not followed him this far? Had you not good reason to forsake your kin to help him fufill his quest? Do not allow this evil being to estrange even our company, if you hold Maedhros in contempt now, you are only bowing the wishes of the Black Foe."

'The Black Foe?' cried Earitila wildly. 'Where?' She swung round, as if expecting to see him. 'Where, where is he?'

Then she looked at Barahir, her face in fearful apology, and hugged him desperately. 'I am sorry. I don't know what is amiss with me... my dreams are drawn back to the blackness of that cave. I cannot shake it.' He felt her shuddering in his arms.

Then she drew away becoming aware of herself once more, and stood proudly again. She forced a pale smile. 'You are right of course. Now is not the time to break faith... come! let us go. I... I am better.'

She stared ahead at their path, and would meet noone's eye. The gleam that Barahir had often seen in her appeared clouded now.

Two young bears trotted swiftly through the trees, eagerly scenting the air. The brothers had been intrigued to find that one of their race was so close and in danger and they had been warned to stay hidden, yet this time something was different. It was not long until they came upon mingled scents, both Elven and something...other. Something that raised the hackles on their backs. Instinctively they growled and split apart, both looking anxiously for the one they now knew to be in grave peril.

Radagast watched the dragon fly off and let out a sigh of relief. He shook his cloak as he allowed himself to become visible again, then suddenly remembered the twins. If they had done as he told them, the dragon would not find them, but he knew that with a dragon around, you can never be too careful. With a little concentration, he quickly transformed into a stag and leaped off to the north towards his hut. Even before he burst through the flap and saw that noone was there, he knew that they must have disobeyed him. There were no tracks, no scent, no signs whatsoever that they had been anywhere near recently. He caught the eye of a raven that was perching on a tree and eating some bug. "Tell your brothers to follow the dragon. We could be losing the elves to it this day!" The raven finished his snack, then lazily flew off. Radagast glared as well as he could as a stag and ran off to try tracking the elves from where he last saw them. He remembered what the dragon said about an elf-lord in the forest and wondered what that had to do with his wards.

As we neared the Tower, I could sense the feeling of unesiness on my companions.
That black mists, invisible that came out of the Tower, I have felt something similar a long time ago....

Our father was slained, Morgoth feined a treaty with us. I convinced my brothers to trick Morgoth and to end this war. I was the one who was fooled by that evil Vala. Just when my party was being defeated I saw that some of them stopped fighting, I felt with each passing moment black thoughts entering my mind, trying to extinguish my will. Our party was destroyed, and I was made captive with the purpose of stopping the war against Morgoth.

All of the time that I spent in Thangorodrim, the pain, the agony, I can still remember the dark thoughts of surrender, hopelesness. I just wanted to die but I couldn't forsake my being, my will nor my word. When Fingon came, it was easier, he could have ended my torment with death. That would have been an honorable death, Morgoth's will would have been twarted, and I had survived my trial. Yet my friend saved me in my time of greatest need.

I feel now the thoughts of Eëaritila and Barahir in my mind and I'm shamed. Are they wrong for doubting me, who participated willingly in the Kinslaying of Alqualondë? Me, who instigated other kinslayings as well. Am I better than this servant of Morgoth?
The answer doesn't comes from me, but from Manwë, who sees most clearly the mind of Ilúvatar. He saved me once when he send Thorondor to aid Fingon and he gave me another chance to redeem my faults.

Nildadari and Turig had gone ahead of us, wait I see them now. Quick follow me and be prepared. We must use secrecy to rescue Caimarë. There's a little door which suits our needs.
Heregruth, who shall be with me in the front. Nil, Eäritila and Eve will be in the middle. Turig and Barahir will be in the back.

Hang on Caimarë we are coming, I will not let anything happen to you.

Turig did his best to put all thoughts of Nildadari out of his mind, blood and hard-struck blows, now that was something he could understand! For now Nil would be a comrade in arms, someone whose back he would watch just as she would watch his own. It was simpler that way, emotion in battle often lead one into the grave. Perhaps once again he was shying away from his feelings, but in all honesty...

Just then Turig heard a low moaning coming from the woodland to his left. First an almost imperceptable mumbling and then rising and falling like the tides of the great ocean, a name. 'Nil... Nildadari... Nil... Nildadari...' He turned quickly to Barahir, but it seemed the ranger had heard it already, drawing his sword the young warrior was sprinting towards the source of the cries. It was Camarië's voice.

'Nildadari, Maedhros!' The erstwhile brigand yelled. 'Quickly, we have found him!' With that Turig turned on his heel and following Barahir set off down the narrow trail. The path was thick with tangled briars, no wonder they had not seen it when they passed by. The brigand cursed silently as he followed hard upon the Dúnadan's heels. He just hoped they were not too late.

Nildadari ran swiftly at the sound of Turig's voice, fear of what she might find filling her mind. She saw Turig, Barahir and Maedhros already gathered around Caimare and she fell to her knees at his side. "Caimare...ai! What has happened to you?" she said softly as she ran her hand over his brow. He opened his eyes and found they would hardly focus...Then he heard the sound of raised voices not far off. Maedhros drew his sword and along with Barahir, went to discover what new peril lay at hand.



In stag form Radagast leapt swiftly through the woods, scenting the wind for the twins. Never had he felt such panic in all his long years as he felt now for the young Elves. "Iluvatar...why did they not listen? Has the accursed blood of Feanor risen in all its pride at last to claim them?" He ran as swiftly as he could, desperate to reach them before the Dragon could spot them.

After what seemed an eternity, Radagast found them , loping along, noses to the ground, searching, scenting, wuffing to each other at each new smell the wind carried their way. Radagast transformed with a thought and cried out to them. They stopped and spun about, snarling. When they saw the wizard, they shuffled in the leaves, growling softly. At a gesture from Radagast, they returned to Elven form and immediately they began talking at once, telling him that the Elf they sought was close, very close. "Fools!" he shouted, his patience gone. "Know you that the Dragon seeks you and the son of Feanor as well? He will kill you both if he finds you!" The urgency in Radagast's voice and the sudden appearance of tears in the old one's eyes gave them pause and they glanced uncertainly at each other.

At that moment the trees parted and they spun, only to be confronted by a tall Elf-lord, power emanating from him as visibly as the sun which shown above. Elured gasped as he moved toward them slowly, a look of wonder and something...was it pain? on his face. Barahir hung back, unable to guess what this moment meant to Maedhros. Above, an enormous shadow blocked the sun...




With a shriek of triumph, Magnus plummetted from the sky. At last his moment had come. But first, he would make him suffer....
He landed in the midst of the group, lashing his tail with devastating force. Barahir flung himself to the ground as it swung over his head, reducing a sapling to splinters. Turig burst through the trees only to stop dead at the sight of the Dragon in all his glory, towering above Maedhros who stood fearless, undaunted by Magnus' display. Coiling swiftly around, Magnus pinned Elured to the ground as Radagast flung himself instinctively in front of Elurin. "Maedhros, Elf-lord..." the Dragon hissed, "Behold, at the moment of your triumph, you fail yet again. Do not be so foolish as to think that I will not kill this one whom you love." He snatched him up, his claws digging cruelly into the young Elf's side. Elured cried out in terror. "Radagast....help me!"

Elurin struggled to get to his brother, but Radagast kept him down, his heart wrenching within him. "I will come for you, Dragon! You will never be able to hide from me!" he cried. Magnus rumbled low in his chest. "You have doomed this one to death with your words, old one. But not here, not now. Know that I will take great pleasure in finding his heart, for it has been too long since I have savoured the sweetness of Elven flesh!"

The Dragon launched into the air, Elured's cries ringing in their ears. Radagast leapt to his feet and attempted to change into a giant Eagle, but he found himself weak, too drained to complete the transformation. He turned to Elurin, "Come, let us find the Dragon and rescue Elured." Elurin made as though to follow, then turned again to Maedhros, who's eyes were shining as flame. "Kinsman, come with us! Help us save my brother!" Maedhros nodded grimly and they set off in the direction whence the Dragon had flown...toward the Tower.

Eäritila cried out with grief. 'Ai! The cursed worm! What ill-fortune dogs our steps?'

Her hands had fitted an arrow to her bow. I marked you once before, and I will do so again! she thought. But she did not shoot, for fear of harming Elured. She threw her bow down in angry frustration.

'This is your fault!' she said to Maedhros, her eyes flashing dangerously. 'Your selfish quest has brought danger upon these twain. For them the long ages of the world have brought but peace and innocence, except when you are nigh!'

She stared at him, and a storm raged behind her eyes. She felt the shocked eyes of the others upon her. Then, suddenly ashamed, she lowered her head. 'Forgive me, I don't know why I said that...'

Within the Dark Tower, the Necromancer looked out on the group during Eäritila's tirade. It seemed that the thoughts of some at least of the companions could be guided. This along with the presence of the elf Caimare should make it easy to start trouble between the followers of Maedhros.

In the total chaos, confusion and pain Magnus brought , Caimare was forgotten. Even Nildadari had stepped away from him and she was still standing there tense and trembling with fury for not do being able to do anything to prevent the tragedy.

Meanwhile Caimare had found strength to get up on his feet and when Nildadari turned back face to her brother she saw him holding his blade with both hands, ready to strike... What at?!
Even the High Elf-Lord could do nothing to fight the malice of the mighty dragon. Caimare felt bitter and he could feel the immense grief that was cat over their little group.
Then he heard the words of Eäritila.
"'This is your fault!' she said to Maedhros, her eyes flashing dangerously. 'Your selfish quest has brought danger upon these twain. For them the long ages of the world have brought but peace and innocence, except when you are nigh!'"

"Ney, fair maiden!" - Caimare's voice, though very quiet, as if banged in the momentary silence that had fallen. "It is not Lord Maedhros to blame for the misery and misfortune of these lands! There are powers - evil and monstruous, that take pleasure to see faith destroyed, friends parted, kins lost... "
Caimare was speaking with difficulty, yet his voice was getting stronger. Now everybody was looking at him and Nildadari quickly returned to him and tried to hold him. He now seemed so fragile... Yet, there was some strange fire in his elven eyes - a firy look she had never seen. Caimare stood firmly still holding his blade.
He made a pause while his words reached everyone's troubled mind. Strange, but one by one they all looked at the tower.
Then Caimare's voice came again.
"I know who rules there! I know what he wants..." He stopped and people could see his kind face now tortured as if by some severe pain.
"Caimare!" - Nilddadari cried. "What is it?! What pain makes you suffer so much!" And she cried.

"He is perilous beyond any evil I have ever seen or heard of", went on Caimare with a trembling voice. "Flame he masters ....and ...Orcs... and wolves ... But no friendship he has with the Dragon"...

'Come let me tend you. You are hurt, I perceive! But where is your wound?' said Eäritila quickly. She felt the looks of concern and even suspicion upon her, and welcomed a chance to change the subject.

She sat him down, and knelt beside him, but saw no bleeding. Only pain and torment of the mind: her eyes met his. She flinched away, suddenly, her mind filled with horror. 'Ai! Caimare! What has happened?' she cried, her hands over her eyes.

Slowly she took them away, and tears were making crystal paths upon her face. 'Alas, some terror is upon him. His cure is to finish our task. There will be no other healing.'

She straightened, and turned her bright eyes towards the tower defiantly.

Elured screamed in terror as he was lifted from the ground and Magnus snapped at his face, silencing the Elf. "Silence, young one! There will be time and enough for that later for where I am taking you, the one who will be your companion has been at a loss for living company for a very long time. I'm certain he will be more that pleased that I bring him someone to amuse him."

The Elf could hear his brother calling for him and for the first time in his life, he knew fear, fear so over-whelming that he felt he would go mad. Radagast had always protected him, where was he now?

Then Maedhros led them on, and the tower glowered down at them, so the golden rays of the sun seemed to lose their potency, and a cold fear seeped into the hearts of them. Maedhros seemed not to heed it, and his step was light and confident. His will held them to their course.

Turig stayed close to Caimare, fearing his pain would return. And though he did not waver, all could see him wincing at the sight of the dark tower.

Earitila walked, and fingered her bow. 'I must not doubt my course now!' she told herself. 'I must persevere, if only to rescue Elured from that foul worm of Morgoth!'

The thorny bushes seemed to close about them, and groped talons at their clothes, and their leaves turned from green to near black, as though a sickness corrupted their growth. They twisted in foul form, and the smell of growing things seemed to fade to a noxious scent of decay. The path was hard and stony, grey jagged shale that crunched, and dissolved into unclean muddles at their feet. Clouds chased across the sky darkly, and the sun hid her face. A bird flew and sat upon the leafless branch of a dead tree that haunted their route. Earitila looked up at it, but shuddered for its eye was unfriendly. With a harsh call it shook its unkempt feathers, and took flight.

The tower, that had from afar, seemed to be of not great height, now loomed up on huge pier of rock thrush out from the mountainside. They saw a wearisome climb was a head of them, as the path scrambled up the steep slopes. Here and there, they saw evidence of orcs, and other beasts besides. Turig's sharp eye saw a discarded iron shoe at first. Later there was a sign of some dispute between their foul kind: a pool of blood, and a headless corpse, cast aside and hanging upon the claws of the thorn-bushes. Earitila saw the grisly signs of ravaging teeth, as though some predator had torn at the remains. Wolves, perhaps.
At other places their filth was strewn and smeared, and flies swarmed. Earitila's stomach churned in growing disgust, and she sighed. A Elbereth! Gilthoniel!

She turned and paused seeing Turig and Barahir labouring up the gruelling climb, as the air thinned and they left the dreadful thorns and found themselves on a barren incline of harsh rock. They were forced to scrambled up a way that was broad and clearly marked, yet hard and steep, so their fingers ached from clutching at cracks in the rock. After a great effort they reached a narrow ledge, hauling themselves onto it on by one, each helping the companion who followed. Earitila glance upwards. At the top of the slope was the base of the tower, and it was now but thirty or forty feet above their heads, but the way disappeared. Earitila said to Maedhros who had stopped, 'You have missed the path! Surely this climb is wrong.'

But he put his finger to his lips, and said in a voice that was scarce more than a whisper in her mind, 'I came this way so we would not alert the guards. Look up!'

Earitila craned her neck, to peer up above them again. At first she saw nothing, but then saw the form of orcs, as they stood guard by the gateway into the tower above. Three or four she thought.

As they began the ascent, Nildadari could feel Caimare's pain returning, his thoughts dark and conflicted. She gritted her teeth in an attempt to keep her head clear. The Dragon's appearance this time had shaken her and fear was threatening to over-whelm her. Too much had happened. She had nearly died..twice, had almost known love, her brother had been captured by a foul spirit and was now a mere shadow of himself. With all her heart she wanted to turn to Turig, to bury herself in his arms and feel safe...safe... she nearly laughed aloud. What could that word possibly mean?

A fey mood came over her and she began climbing faster, giving no heed to silence or stealth. She only wanted to kill, to cause the same pain and grief she was feeling to her enemies. Maedhros cursed under his breath, knowing the guards above her surely spot her.

Barahir saw Nildadari climb faster, abandoning caution. Before the guards atop the wall could spot her, Barahir caught her heal, forcing her to stop her careless advance and take shelter behind some bushes.

"I have no elven-senses, but even I can feel your pain and confusion. Let Maedhros lead; he knows more of strategy and battle than you or I. What good would it do any of us for you to be captured? There will be time to cause our enemies pain without risking ourselves. We must be stealthy if we wish to save to two elves we seek."

We were almost in the gateway, there were four guards there now. I bade the company halt, we are far too many to take them unawares.

Heregruth will come with me, the rest of you follow us when I give the sign. We are about to enter the Tower of the greatest servant of Morgoth, our only hope of success is in our secrecy. Only the Valar knows what we will find in there, but we cannot break this tower by force alone. We must find the Necromancer as fast as possible and rescue Eluréd. These dark thoughts in your heads will only get worse as we deepen in this Tower, focus on good deeds and they will get you through.

I went up with Heregruth. Some tricks work the same no matter when they were invented. Heregruth threw a rock in the opposite direction of the guards, they were momentarily distracted, which gave the opportunity to slay two of them, and when they saw me, they didn't notice Heregruth besides them, they were dead before they could draw their scimitars. We hid the bodies and gave the signal. Now it's when the danger begins......

I remember, I was in the Fortress of Himring, after the Dagor Bragollach, I dwelt with a strong folk and with my brother Maglor, and then from nothing came my brothers Celegorm and Curufin. I was glad at their coming but why were they alone, what happened to their folk and why were they in such shape.
Are you ok, me and Maglor asked. Yes they answered, we were attacked by a band of Orcs and our company was slained. Curufin's horse was stolen and so was his precious knife.
Then where is Huan, your hound Celegorm, it has always warm my heart his presence and loyalty. But when I saw the looked on their faces, I knew that they were hiding something from us. They would not touch again the subject nor I asked them about it again. I found out about their deeds later though.
Our time had grown short in ME, Morgoth was going to destroy of all the Eldar if we didn't unite against him. My friend Fingon understood this also and he gave me his help, I was sure that my cousin Finrod Felagund would have helped us with his force of Nargothrond, especially now that he was aided by Celegorm and Curufin in the Bragollach. It was then that they told me the truth about their departure from Nargothrond. How they intended to blackmail Thingol with Lúthien and how they left our cousin Finrod to die with Sauron. I almost raised my own sword against my brethen. We are fighting Morgoth, who is the evil of this World, the slayer of our grandfather Finwë, we do not use his methods as our own. Shame on you. After that day, I saw them with different eyes. I vowed that if I could somehow avenge my cousin I would do so. And now here I am.......

The Inside of the Tower was filled with barely lit hallways. It is odd that this place is not that well guarded. Has he expected our move and is tending a trap for us. It doesn't matter now, there is no going back from here. As we moved through the Hallways, we encountered some resistance, fortunately we had the advantage of surprise and they hadn't notice our presence in the Tower.

We had gone up two levels, I feel his presence more strongly now, his conjures of my awful deeds in my mind are almost overwheliming me, but I will not let him get the better of me. I survived Thangorodrim. But where is Eluréd, I cannot feel his presence.
There is something about this Hallway, about that door. Is that is where the Necromancer lies? But where is his guard? We have slew some, but not that many. Is it luck or are we doomed? Be prepared for anything. I will go first. I kicked the door down, and there there was someone sitting in an elaborated chair. His eyes cold as death, and he said:
"Welcome Maedhros, I have been expecting you ........."

The dread that had been upon Earitila had grown tenfold with every step they climbed. Now in front of this door she halted, her mind recoiling as from an unknown horror. She was rooted, and even as she heard the words spoken to Maedhros, in her mind a voice plaintive and persuasive spoke. In her mind's eye she saw her father, weeping on the quay of Alqualonde, the dying body his brother in his arms as life ebbed away. And the sting of sea spray was a tears as the blood-stained ship of the Teleri passed across the sea, and the voice said: 'When will your people have vengeance? How shall this be put aright?'

And she put dropped her bow with a clatter, so that she might block her ears, and in her heart she cried: 'Nay! I will not listen!'

Then she saw her father, stricken as he found the berthing place of her ship Lintaiwë was empty. 'Where now is my daughter?' he seemed to ask, and was answered: 'She has betrayed you, and gone to Middle-Earth with Maedhros, son of Feanor.' And she saw his rage, and her heart filled with shame and pity of a sudden. And the voice said. 'Strike him down now... strike Maedhros down and regain your father's love, and gain vengeance for your people.'

And she could not move or speak for the thought grew within her, and she fought it with all her strength.

Barahir had long ago put thoughts of revenge and bitterness behind him, but in this dark stronghold all evil was magnified. A voice inside, not entirely his own but not entirely alien, called him a coward, a traitor to his sister for failing to exact revenge for her death, a failure as a guardian of her and of his mother, a coward for allowing the Elves to stop his revenge, an outcast from his own people. Why had he not killed Turig? Turig was a bandit who killed anyone in his way with no regard for life. Why had he joined the elves as a companion of a murderer? Why had he defended Alfirin? What good had it done either of them? Alfirin was dead and Barahir was an outcast, following an elf with blood-stained hands on a hopeless quest.

No. Barahir refused to listen to the voice. He knew from whence it came, he knew the blackness in the heart of that Dark Lord, he knew that Sauron desired nothing more than the destruction of all who opposed him, all of that was good.

With little hope in his heart, but with a resolve undaunted by the black thoughts of the figure on the throne, Barahir stepped through the door, feeling the Dark One's presence as an almost palpable gloom. The tall ranger stood stolidly behind Maedhros, not knowing what the Elf Lord would, or could, do now.

The dark whispers in his mind continued, but Barahir did not listen. While guilt and insecurity raced through his mind, his eyes remained fixed on Maedhros while with his whole being he prayed that Eru would not let this quest fail. The Elf-Lord stood tall and proudly, not with the pride of arrogance but with the conviction that he was right, that this time he would not allow evil to prevail. The Dark Lord sent his shadows and doubts throughout his fortress, but the minds of the company he could not penetrate. As Melkor's influence from the Void is through long-planted seeds of mistrust and hate, so could Sauron spread his wishes. He can put many things into the minds of Elves and Men, but they do not belong to him.

Caimarë stepped into the twilight of the entrance passage of the tower. Cool air and silence embraced his senses yet did not bring relief nor pleasure. Some of his companions stood around him, but some have gone too far inside the halls of the tower. Maedhros was not around. Where had he gone? Was he safe?!
Safe!!! Who could be safe in this place where pure Evil reigned in all its powers!
Caimarë took a closer look at the faces of his companions. Strange! They all seemed as if wandering in some distant worlds, far from here – the reality that needed from them the utmost caution and vigilance!
“This is his work! “ thought Caimarë. “He is a Master in conquering and ruling minds!” Oh! Caimarë knew the twisted delight the Black Power felt when playing with his mind and he was now sure the same had befallen on his friends. He could see the tense expressions on their faces and the fire in their eyes lit by the painful struggle to free themselves from the grip of the evil thoughts treacherously creeping into their minds – getting stronger and stronger….whispering evil words….drawing pictures of despair…calling for revenge and death… confusing, evil, putting on fire any cool reason and any good intention and belief…..

And then…… in the evil dusk of that evil place, in that evil hour, in that evil-heavy silence …a sound was herd! A most unexpected it was! Yet, so healing, so freeing the mind, so strong with the light it was bringing….
For Caimarë sang! Very quietly, almost whispering….but the flow of the elvish song broke through the twilight and through the dark thoughts that had almost completely enthralled the minds of his friends.
And it won over darkness and Caimarë’s companions broke from the perilous state the evil breath of this place had brought them into. And the dark thoughts of despair or revenge and suspicion disappeared and the company breathed again with ease.

Caimarë’s song hushed away. And it was again silent and dark, but no fear nor tension they felt any more.

“Come!” Nildadari said. “We should hurry on ! We have to find Maedhros.”
“I know where he might be” said Caimarë quietly. “Follow me”

And he led the group through the passages right into the very heart of the tower of Evil.