It was quiet that day. There were no seagulls to be seen. The sun also seemed shrouded in mist though there was no cloud to be seen. Its heat seemed stolen away. The ships that returned from the sea with fresh fish catch were empty, those that were caught were skinny and bony, useless to fill the appetites of elves. The whole mood of the town seemed gloomy, no elves outside their homes. The vendors were sitting idly, their stalls void of any customers. The night swiftly came that day, bringing unusual darkness with it.

The air was still. No sea breeze to be felt. The environment was tense, the air holding its breath. It was calm before the storm, deep breath before the plunge…

Black sails faintly outlined the vision that only the keenest of eyes could see. Moon was covered by clouds. Clouds that spoke doom. There was a shrill whistle, an arrow that struck a guard with a soft thud, then another and another until all watchmen (or watch-elves) were sent into the claws of death. A thousand torches were lit at once but there was no eye to watch. All were asleep and peaceful in their houses, no one expecting this fate. But fate is unpredictable.

Then it began…

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The horizon barely glimmered as the sun started to rise and signal the start of a new day. Elmar was already out and about in the wood nearby Mithlond, trying to catch a rabbit or two before sunrise. He was full of barely contained anticipation, as he imagined the wind in his hair and sea salt sprayed on his face. It had been long since he had gone sailing in the sea, this was his last assignment before he could be free from his tutors and become independent, with no more answering to his elders except his parents and the governor of the Havens Cirdan the Shipwright. He would be free to go anywhere, these thoughts ran through his mind as he bent the bow to take down a rabbit with one clean shot. The bow twanged and the arrow went whistling down only to miss the rabbit by an inch. Elmar frowned as he changed his mind to eat vegetables instead of breakfast.

He walked out of his abode dressed in blue shimmery tunic and grey trousers his silver hair bound back. As he made his way towards the docks, he heard a commotion and heard his name called out.

‘Elmar, Lord Cirdan requests your presence’, called Lindir, his friend

‘Aye, what happened??’

‘Go and find out’, came the reply

As Elmar approached the building situated in the center of the city, its walls eroded by the salt, he could see Lord Cirdan standing in the footsteps.

‘Hail Elmar! I have some grave news’, Cirdan called him.

‘What is it my lord?’, asked Elmar a look of confusion clouded his eyes.

‘A group of orcs has been sighted near the borders, around 30 strong at least. I am afraid you must abandon your plans of sailing and join the force sent out to kill the orcs, as you are on the best-skilled fighters, and you have the potential to be more.’ Informed Cirdan.

Elmar’s heart fell to his boots, he had been prepping physically and mentally to sail and his plans were abruptly changed. Don’t get him wrong He wasn’t afraid of a good fight but if one’s plans are changed like that they don’t feel on top of the world. However, he complied.

‘Yes, my lord, when do we leave?’

‘Near midday’, came the reply.

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Elmar rushed home to pack supplies and gather his weapons. He came out of his room adorned in armor with the livery of the elves of the Haven. His sword hung by his side carved with elven runes that translated to death and fear. His bow was similarly designed, which hung around his shoulder with a full quiver of arrows.

It was almost sunset when his company along with his friend Lindir reached the borders. Scouts were sent forth, and everyone waited, the silence and tension were palpable. Suddenly there was a whistle and an elven archer fell from the tree. Dead.

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NOTE: This a fanfiction based on Middle Earth created by J.R.R Tolkien who is also the author of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit from where this story takes inspiration from.