Of Numenor That Was by Marta

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Part the Second


She would have screamed, if she could. The king's men had given her a drink earlier, to dull the pain they'd claimed, and now her tongue lay useless against her cheek.

She was going to die; Gimilbêth felt the flames lick at her calves. Yet the priests still spoke, exalting the one true God of Men who gave them life eternal. Surely they had not started yet?

A spark caught her eye, and her soul wailed within her. So loud was its cry, she marvelled that none could hear. And then, as the Wave crashed overhead, the Flames took her.


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