Moments of Passing by Elfique

I.

His was stone, marble and flowing water. The keeper of courtyards and clear fountains.

They had fled across those smooth stones, slipping on spilt wine and blood amidst pools of moonlight. His spear was gone, his shield useless in a limp arm. And there it emerged, a glowing spectre from the night. Nostrils flaring, it roared its fury, its anger, its hate.

The ring of sword unsheathed cut through the crackle of flame and trickle of water. As the others fled to safety he remained a defiant silhouette against the red hot light.

Blade flashed, water sprayed and blood mingled with the fluid dripping from elf and stone.

The fountains sighed in the silence. Dark water hushed over his body as Ecthelion fell slowly back into the ornamental waters.

II.

 His was flora, forest and field. The keeper of rolling hills and sunlit vales.

The sun was rising, harsh and fierce in the smoke filled sky. Their city lay in ruins behind them as the treacherous path twisted and turned underfoot, spiralling ever upwards. The child in his arms was heavy, his armour bloodied.

The child handed away, he pushed past his lord as the towering black figure of flame faced them. He waved the others back, standing tall and resplendent in the sun.

Shale scattered, feet danced nimble and quick on crumbling ledges, hearts thudded as sword leapt and flew.

The mountains echoed with his final defiant cry even as he fell. He glimpsed them safe, then closed his eyes.