“Hound of Morgoth,hearken to me! Ithildor of the Volturi is here. Get you back to the Ruins of Angband,dark demon!
Go where there is no light,where dark creatures abide! You are lesser even than the shade of Sauron whose Ring was destroyed in the Fire Mountain! GO,FOR I BANISH THEE! GET YOU TO THE VOID WHERE THY MASTERS WERE BANISHED BY THE VALAR!”
The darkness echoed. Makayla heard the cave collapse,permanently sealing off Ithildor and the Warg King. She wept,for what she did not know. Was all hope of destroying the Ticks dead?
It was dawn. The Sun was rising over the ruins of Fredericksburg. Behind her,the cave entrance sent out wisps of smoke. She thought she could hear Ithildor and the Warg King battling underground. Every so often the ground rumbled. Ahead of her was a Prius. She climbed in,activated the steering,and drove.
On Route 61 the road was clear. Wrecked cars littered the roadside. The Fredericksburg Farm was unlit,the revolt obviously contained. But no heads adorned the spikes. Was there a trial? Had any Green or Collab been found guilty?
A Breeder wandered the grounds,smirking as she showed off her pregnant belly. Makayla was sorely tempted to flip the bird at her. You don’t know how difficult it is to be pregnant,she thought.
If it is destroyed, then he will fall, and his fall will be so low that none can foresee his arising ever again. For he will lose the best part of the strength that was native to him in his beginning, and all that was made or begun with that power will crumble, and he will be maimed forever, becoming a mere spirit of malice that gnaws itself in the shadows, but cannot again grow or take shape. And so a great evil of this world will be removed.
Shut up,she thought.
The next six days consisted of swerve driving, frozen meals in abandoned restaurants, use of the Portable Ultrasound, and camping in abandoned motels by candlelight. She regularly got a radio echo off the Ellipso satellite constellation,which was encouraging in its own little way. As she ate frozen macaroni and cheese one night,she ruminated.
In the Before,and back home,this would have been winter of my senior year of high school. I would have been studying for my French tests,reading Gossip Girl,tending to my Facebook,listening to Alexis and Hannah whine about boys,dating Kameron. All that is gone now. France is besieged by Ticks and wights,nobody has any more time for Gossip Girl,Facebook is probably offline,and Alexis,Hannah,and Kameron are probably manning defense watches back in G’town.
In the night,she heard a voice speaking in her head. The voice said:
At the end of all realms
There is the Gate of Summer
Created by Eru in the Dawn of Time
A portal it is between realms and nations
There stands the Spirit of the West who points the way
An Elf he was,the Silver Fist on Earth
Abused by Mairon’s army as a bloody standard
In death Eru pardoned him of all he had done
And now he points the way
To a new age, the Age of the Earth
When all that was lost shall be restored
The prevention of the Dagor Dagorath
Earendil will show you the road
To where He is.....