Fragments by SkyEventide

Slow end

Written for the prompt: ospreys, yellow, shadows, passing. Featuring Círdan.

The great bird flew against a sallow sky, full of dust, full of clouds heavy with sulphur, approaching Balar. It landed upon the port’s piers, its head heavy, its feathers dirty.

Land is no more. The northern pits spew and heave the evils of the dark caves, a great slide of mud slowly crawls down from Anfauglith and swallows the mountain passes, the forests and plains. It shall reach the sea, or the sea shall swallow it.

Círdan gazed north, where the shadows were thicker, and let go of a deep sigh as the fish hawk fell silent. He turned to his lieutenant, the iridescent armour glowing sickly under the pale glare of the hidden sun.

« The harbour stays open. If no more ships reach us by overmorrow, we shall consider visiting the coast of Lindon. » Then he paused and, more gently, he added: « This too shall pass. »