This evil has the potential to make the events made by Sauron look like a sugared dream. What could come is truly something I never want to live through.

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L U M O R N E L
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My body trembled as I ambled along the worn dirt path. Early this morning, while the sun had still slept behind the horizon, my light had exploded on me again. It was like a circling dog; it didn't know when to stop. A few weeks of traversing these lands and every time, a few hours after I had eaten, my light grew and it fought to shower everything in its luminosity and power. Though, the intensity of the episodes seemed to decrease, the light settling more within me. Every time it happened, it was like my body got used to the sudden well of power in me, recognized its might. Or maybe I was learning to control it.

I shrugged.

I was certain, though, that my body was getting used to its presence. Today, it's unleashing had been a little more violent than usual—hence my shaking—for I had skipped eating the previous day. It seemed that my being had almost forgotten the familiarity of the light in its short absence, so when it returned, my body retaliated and couldn't reign it in.

Interesting. I grimaced, adjusting my grip on my bow and shouldering my pack so it sat a bit more securely.

Thinking about it, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cloth bundle. Unfolding it revealed a handful of plum-purple berries. I hesitated before popping one into my mouth...

Are they poisonous?

But I thought of this morning again, how it felt like my very being was being ripped from me and how I had no control over the harmful power.

Without pausing, I shoved a few in my mouth.

Well, they taste like desert...

That's gotta be a good sign.

Nonetheless, I waited a few minutes for any signs of illness before plopping more on my tongue. Before I knew it, my stash of fruit was gone and I was licking my fingers, checking my pocket for more.

Another reason not to eat: you eat and just want more.

I laughed though. Oh, how ironic! Just a few weeks ago I wouldn't touch food and now I'm searching the depths of my pockets for it!

I shook my head, a soft smile on my lips as I admired the path around me. The ground had just thawed out from this morning's frost and the trees no longer held any leaves. Their bare branches stretched overhead, caging in those on the worn path.

My lips turned downward.

Why does that disturb me so much?

I sighed, mentally shrugging, and continued to sweep my attention across the path. The mountain sloped dramatically upward on either side of me, trees seemingly growing at an odd angle so they could grow towards the sky. My elven ears picked out the scavenging of a squirrel, heard its tiny paws scamper through fallen leaves, then its teeth scraping against some fallen morsel. A bird chirped merrily in the trees, calling for its partner to come home. A moment later there was the ever soft flap of wings against a bird's body as tiny feet clutched onto a high-above branch. The dead twigs in the air clattered together as a cold gale rattled their ranks. I could even hear the soft murmur of a creek, moving along at a fast pace before the freezes could attempt to stop its flow.

A multitude of footprints lay encased in the recently muddied path, now dried. I wasn't skilled enough to make out how many people had been through here or if it was at the same time or not. There was a set—maybe two—of hoof prints. It could've been from a horse, cow, or donkey. Judging by the long, thin tracks amid the array of feet, I could guess that the animal was pulling something heavy.

My heart lurched in my chest and I bit my tongue to contain my glee—no need for false hope.

Could this be from members of the Western Hope? Or from brave travelers?

So much for keeping myself from false hopes, I thought bitterly.

I pursed my lips and recognizing my thoughts turning dark, began my exercise. It wasn't in the physical sense—but in the mental sense. I don't remember when I started it, but I knew I did it almost every day. And looking back in my notebook told me I had been doing it for at least two months; I had mentioned it in my very first entry.

Checking first for any signs of life around me, I stopped in the middle of the path. Then closed my eyes.

I took in a deep breath. And thought of nothing for a moment, just breathing.

Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to find Legolas. I will.

I opened my eyes, continued walking. I picked out the forest around me, recognized the fact that I was now, officially, in the mountains. And that I had been for three days now.

I'm in the mountains now, not out of them. I'm closer to my memories than I ever had been before.

My clothing rubbed softly against my skin, my short-sword banging against my leg.

I'm equipped with clothing and weapons to protect myself. Without them, I'd probably die.

Legolas's bow is in my hand, safe and sound.

I haven't run across any travelers or enemy-folk.

My power hasn't consumed me.

And... And I can still remember today, yesterday, even a few weeks ago.

I'm still me.

I nodded.

Everything is okay—

Okay as everything can be.

I bit my cheek and looked far down the path, its dirt route extended and bending out of sight. But the path led upward, I could feel that as I walked. In places, I had to lean forward and grab onto wandering tree roots to prevent myself from sliding downward.

Everything will be better when I find Legolas.

I refused to think of the horrifying what-if: what if Legolas doesn't know me.

Or worse: he might not want to help me.

Instead, I kept walking, admiring the beauty of the forest around me. If I just kept my head straight, I could get myself through this.

I'll stop losing memories.

The wind picked up again, and although the cold bite didn't bother me as much as it would humans, I was grateful for the sleeves on my arms. The early winter weather didn't make me shiver but it was almost enough to make me uncomfortable.

Old leaves tumbled down the mountainside, a river of decaying matter. They traveled towards the human settlement at the base of the Ered Nimrais foothills.

I bit my lip. They had scowled at me when I had passed through, though it was only because I was an outsider traveling through their home in less than happy times. They couldn't have possibly have known that that brave traveler was me; Gwaraith. Then, my brown dye hadn't washed out and a scarf had hidden the scar on my neck and my sleeves had covered the patchwork of scars on my arms.

Screams and fear and several brave souls picking up swords would have met me in place of those scowls if they had known who I was. I knew because I wrote about it in my journal. I couldn't remember those times when I had been met with the fear of a town, but I could imagine it. Once or twice a stray few would somehow recognize me and turn bone-white.

I almost wanted to laugh. What could I have done? I shook my head, could I ever make them see I don't want to harm them?

In fact, I wanted to do more than pass idly by. Children had run homeless in streets, hardly any clothes on their depraved bodies, not receiving the things they need due to towns not trading. Families starved as local farms were burned and the trade routes became increasingly dangerous. Most everyone was too afraid to leave the outskirts of their own towns and cities, not even to visit dying family members or to obtain something vital. In my journal, I noticed more orc and mercenary raids. Questionable people sneaked around at night, more families lost loved one due to some skirmish. Uur rauko had gotten braver and now wandered through villages, their hunger killing more.

I hated seeing their pain, their fear, and their struggle. If only I could help without them pulling away. These people needed someone to stand up for them, to stand up to the evil descending this darkness on them, to defeat... who was the enemy? Who is behind all this destruction?

Could it only be that the orcs are just running about? Corrupted men just getting bored and taking out their violence on innocents? I bit my lip in thought. No, no there was something behind this. Orcs wouldn't target trade routes. According to my journal, cities such as Minas Tirith had fallen to enemy hands. These attacks weren't random.

And... the Western Hope...

I'll tell them. Maybe they already had connected the dots, but if they hadn't...

I swung my pack around, setting Legolas's bow on my back as I dug into the bag to pull out my journal so I could write this down—

Something big moved through the undergrowth.

I sucked in a breath, hand stilling as I froze. My stomach dropped, and where my star-light would once have erupted into a glow on my skin, it only stirred dangerously in response. A moment later a low, animalistic rumble sounded from the rustling leaves.

That growl—what was it? Wolf—mountain lion—?

Uur rauko.

Oh, Eru—

A dropped my pack, half its contents skittering out across the path, and yanked on my knife just as the demon jumped forth from the dying underbrush.

As did three more.

I ran—

Claws raked down my back, pulling a cry from me. I stumbled forward, my legs still moving me despite the pain, moving further from the chasing monsters.

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So... I know this chapter is basically just her thinking  buuut... action is obviously in the next chapter.

Also... please wish me luck. Or be like "I got you bro/you got this"
I'm gonna do something tomorrow that I'm dreading. But I need to do it, and even tho it's gonna cause some awkwardness/pain, I'm going to be much happier afterward and less stressed.

And less stress means more writing.

And being healthy blah blah blah

Anyways. Thanks for reading fam.
~(^-^)~