Cil-Gamir -- The Quest Continues...

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Subject: Cil-Gamir

Author:
Anawiel

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Date Posted: 10:38:09 04/03/02 Wed

As Anawiel rode across the silent plains the setting sun shone like fine mithril on her pale cheeks. An eye that shone with an emerald-gold light let a lone tear spill from it's inky depths, a whisper of the events she was trying to escape, yet knew she could not.
The family of Cil-Gamir had been finally defeated even after the passing of the War of the Ring. As she thought this her hand moved to the black scabbard under her scarlet silk cape. A hatred boiled inside her, hotter than the earth's very core, tearing at her injured soul. Although she tried to fight back the salty tears that threatened to overcome her, it was all her battered and bruised body could do to merely stay upright on her horse.
Sobbing with pain, Anawiel clumsily dismounted and sank to the damp ground. Over the vast plains came a mournful wail that contained all the anguish Anawiel had bottled up over the past fortnight of journeying. Her now straggly flame-red hair stuck ot herface as she retched, shaky and trembling.
Her father was dead, one of the last ot go after the battle. He had choked out his last words to her through the river of blood that had flown from dry, cracked lips.
He was dead and had left Anawiel with nothing save the clothes on her back and his blood-stained sword, Qoille, that hung at her slender waist. She had to get Minas Tirith to warn King Elessar.
As her eyelids began to droop shut, a half-formed thought passed through her mind. 'Where are they now? The riders?' And before Anawiel could remeber what the significance of 'the riders' she sank into fitful sleep.

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