Narbeleth, 1030, of the Third Age.

Empty hours, empty days.

I find that I have few memories of that first period of my life, those first years when I labored as a servant of my father’s house. Minutes blended into hours, hours into days, and so on, until the whole of it seemed one long and barren moment. Several times, after my father had found his rest – and forgotten to throw me away behind the dungeon bars, I managed to sneak out above the stone walls, and to look out over the lights the world held for me. Never then did I see the light of day, though at that time I was content to feel the fresh air cling around me, and some sight other than the emptiness of a ceiling above me. On all of those secret journeys, I found myself entranced by the growing, and then long dissipating light of the stars above me. Looking back on that now, on those long hours watching the glow of the stars slowly make their vast brightness across the sky…only to dim again, I am amazed at the emptiness of my earlier days.

I clearly remember my excitement, tingling excitement, each time I got a chance to stray outside the walls {guards permitting they were asleep, or perhaps intoxicated and uncaring} and set my position to watch the night pass me by in utter silence. Such a simple and rare thing it was, yet so fulfilling compared to the rest of my existence.

Whenever I hear the crack of a whip, another memory – more than a sensation than a memory actually – sends a shiver through my spine. The shocking jolt and ensuing numbness from those leather-headed weapons is not something that any person would soon forget. They bite under the back on your skin, sending waves of terrible energy through your body; waves that make your muscles snap and pull beyond their limits.

Yet, I was luckier than most. My father Meren was too concerned with other matters to rear his own child, at a period of his life where he possessed far more energy than he would give to such a duty of family. Perhaps then, there was more to those first years under his care than I now recall. Meren never showed the intense wickedness of such that now fits who he has become – or, more particularly of Sauron himself. Perhaps there were good times in the solitude of the house; it is possible that Meren allowed a more gentle side of himself to show through to his daughter.

Perhaps not. Even though I count Meren as the only family I still have, his words drip as if venom from a snake. It seems unlikely that he would risk his aspirations toward his ambition for the sake of a mere child, a mere female child at that.

Whether there were indeed joys in those years, obscured in the unrelenting assault of such wickedness, or whether that earliest period in my life as even more painful than the years that followed – so painful that my mind hides the memories – I cannot be certain. For all my efforts, I cannot remember them.

I have more insight into the further years of my life, but the most prominent aside from the secret trips outside those walls – is the image of my own feet. Even my father’s servants were allowed to raise their gaze.

****

Laer, 1100, of the Third Age.

I remember vividly the day I walk away from the place of my birth, the place that held the ruins of my family. All Middle-Earth lay before me, a life of adventure and excitement, with possibilities that lifted my heart. More than that though, I left Barad-dûr with the belief that I could now life in accordance with my principles. Though I had no one at my side, naught but the company of my sword at my side, my future was my own to determine.

But that Moriquendi, the young Erelith Morelen – who walked out of Barad-dûr on that fated journey, was barely into reaching adulthood by elf standards – or mortal for that matter. I could not begin to understand the truth of time, of how its passage seemed to slow when the moments were not shared with others. In my youthful exuberance, I looked forward to several centuries of life.

How do you measure centuries past when a single hour seems a day, and a single day seems a year?

Beyond the cities of Mordor, and that of Barad-dûr, there is food for those who know how to find it and safety for those who know how to conceal themselves from the sight of others. More than anything else, though, beyond the dark cloud of Mordor...there is solitude.

As I became a creature of empty, long tunnels, survival became easier and more difficult all at once. I gained in the physical skills and experience necessary to live on. I could defeat almost anything that wandered into my domain, and those few monsters that I could not defeat, I could surely flee or hide from. It did not take me long, however, to discover one enemy that I could neither defeat, nor flee. It followed me wherever I went, as a shadow, and a wicked one. Indeed the farther I ran, the more it closed in around me. My enemy was solitude, the interminable, incessant silence of long nights, and weary days.

Looking back on these many years later, I find myself amazed and appalled at the changes I endured under such an existence. The very identity of every reasoning being is defined by the language, the communication, between that being and others around it. Without that link, I was lost. When I left Mordor, I determined that my life would be based on principles, my strength adhering to unbending beliefs. Yet after only a few months alone of slinking through shadows, and unknown passages, the only purpose of my survival, was my survival. I had become a creature of instinct, calculating and cunning but not thinking, not using my mind for anything more than directing the newest kill.

Varsis saved me I believe. The same companion that had pulled me from certain death in later years to come – a death of emptiness, less dramatic perhaps, but fatal none the less. I found myself living for those first moments when I would follow aside Varsis, when I had another living, breathing Moriquendi to hear my words {though he may not have understood me} strained though they had become in hoping he would ever know what the words I spoke had meant. In addition to every other value, Varsis became my way to tell how the days passed, for I knew that he came forth from his own home for a half-day every other day.

Only after my ordeal had ended did I realize how critical that one quarter of my time actually was. Without Varsis, I would have not found the resolve to continue. I would never have maintained the strength to survive.

Even when Varsis stood beside me, I found myself growing more and more unsure toward the fighting. I was secretly hoping that some occupant of Mordor would prove stronger than I. Could the pain of a blade be greater than the emptiness and silence?

I think not.

****

Iavas, 1329, of the Third Age.

Friendship: The Word has come to mean many different things among the various races and cultures of seemingly even the most twisted of evil races, and cultures across the lands of Middle-Earth. In Mordor, friendship is born out of mutual profit. While both parties are better off for the union, it remains secure. But loyalty is not a principle of such evil life, and as soon as a friend believes that he will gain more without the other, the union – and likely the other’s life – will come to a swift end.

I have had few friends in my life, and if I live a thousand years or even more, I suspect that this will remain true. There is little to lament in this fact, though, for those who have called me friend have been persons of great character, and have enriched my existence, given it worth. First there was Varsis, my first friend and mentor, who showed me that I was not alone – nor was I incorrect holding to my own beliefs. Varsis saved me, from both the blade and the chaotic evil that will bring the downfall of Meren, my father, and that of Mordor.

Yet I was no less lost when Melethron came into my life, an elf that had rescued me from my imprisonment in the mortal realm. My brief moments of Melethron were short, and I hardly thought we would meet again. We did, of course, and when we met it was in the clutches of his own people. I would have been killed – truly would have preferred death – were it not for Melethron.

In my time in Rivendell, the House of Elrond was such a short span in the measure of my years. I remember well the valley, and the people, and I always shall. The House of Elrond was the first society I came to know that was based on something more – the strengths of community, not the paranoia of selfish individualism. Together, the evil creatures of Mordor labor in their endless toils to let Sauron rise again, and play games that are hardly distinguishable from every other aspect of such rich lives.

Greater Indeed are the pleasures that are shared.

****

Echuir, 1980, of the Third Age.

To live or survive? Until my second time out in the wilds of Middle-Earth, after my stay in the House of Elrond, I never would have understood the significance of such a simple question.

When I first left Mordor, I thought survival was enough; I thought that I could fall within myself, within my principles and be satisfied that I have followed the only course open to me. The alternative was the grim reality of Mordor, and observance of the wicked ways that guided my father. If that was life, I believed, simply surviving would be far more preferable. Yet, that ‘simple survival’ nearly killed me.

The House of Elrond showed me a different way. Elves society, structured and nurtured on communal values and unity, proved to be everything that I had always hoped it to be. The Elves of the Last Homely House did much more than merely survive. They lived and laughed and worked, the gains they made were shared by the whole, as was the pain of losses they inevitably shared among friends, but grief diminishes with ever division. That is life.

So, when I walked back out of Rivendell, back into the emptiness of the wild lands of Middle-Earth, I walked with a hope. At my side was Varsis once again, having found I’d stolen away to the valley long ago. In my brief first stay of Rivendell, I had witnessed life as I always had hoped it would be – I could not return to simply surviving.

With my friend beside me, I dared to believe that I would not have to.

One of the more ...emotional journal entries. One Phaustas will most definitly find. At this point in her life it is after Varsis and her have severed their romantic ties, and perhaps the journey she mentions. Also at this point - her foresight is still pretty much dormant, but she knows her fate lies with Meren, that she will need to confront it sooner or later. Basically, it's just this massive thing looming over her.

Firith, 3119 of the Second Age.

I have no ideas as to why I continue to write in these pages; perhaps it is the only solace I find from the constant thoughts that plague my mind. I would suppose I should look at this as a gift rather than a curse, because nothing should ever surprise me. As always – I wish my thoughts would stop for even a moment from scrutinizing every motion, word, thought upon thought.

I was inquired on my hopes, my dreams for the future not long ago. It was then I realized I had none. Nor would I need such. My heart weighs in heavy silence knowing the outcome of my own fate. The very thing that forces me to continue on is quite mad, in all actuality. It is more often than not the one thing I find hardest to cling to, and yet I still hardly understand such reasoning for it. What defines being human if there is no shred of hope?

It often crosses my mind whether or not Varsis’ love for me was ever as mine is. From the moment my eyes laid upon him, something stirred deep within me. As if some secret locked deep within my mind was just now showing me who I would survive adventures with, love, and die with. It seems all so childish to hear myself write these words, and so very terribly cliché. We all know how much I hate cliché, and how impractical those words of mine are. I just wonder how things came to be as they are now. As things stand, I am closer to Meren than I am to Varsis. We laugh, we joke, and it’s all very lighthearted. I would hardly be surprised of Varsis turning aside when the journey becomes worse. Always there for the good, never for the bad.

I am willing to stick myself out here and say these opinions are all one-sided. It’s just something about him, when I was with him, seemed practical and right. Then again, love is hardly so rational. It just seemed so right and fitting that I cannot help but let myself think some things were meant to be, even if they never lasted. What friendship – what relationship between two people has no problems? Is that not what makes friendship? The solidity to trust another and know through and through they will be with you? Where then, has Varsis turned astray?

I would not search out another for companionship, even in friendship Varsis should have been there for me. Perhaps there is some shred of hope left yet for that.

Fate is unkind to me.

-E.M.

Is it that bad? Why is she closer to Meren? :crying:
I can't imagine that evil side of her showing through at the moment, because I only feel sorry for Erelith >.< (Have her do something bad so I can have reason to hate her! I feel bad for Tîwele giving her the silent treatment :( )

Ah, it was a bit of sarcasm. Kind of anyways. She was just saying how even though the two are 'close' it's just not the same. Kind of like...they can talk about anything, but there's this massive wall between them both that Varsis has put up {and willingly, Erelith from having Varsis hurt her} I'm sure I can think up something to make you hate her...hmm..but what? :D

Well... I don't know :oddlook: Maybe let her evil side take over her and let blood of Meren's she has in her veins starts getting to her as they get closer... to Amon Lanc? Or along the way anyway. It can stem from her perceptions of something wrong Varsis has done to her or something ^^
Geez, these random ideas never do seem to stop running :oddlook:

Wow, this randomly reminds me of this cartoon I saw {a harry potter one} with dumbledore, harry, and severus.

Dumbledore: Well no wonder Voldemort's been getting in there! You left his brain unlocked Severus!
Harry: *blank stare and drool*

{Haha, I say this only because you were thinking my thoughts exactly.}

I planned on Phaustas making things worse the closer they get, and because she's going to keep him company/be listening to his words most of the journey/Erelith is going to get more...difficult as things progress. Not to mention, I was going to have an attempt or two on Varsis' part to hook up with Tiwele. :D Which of course in turn leaves Erelith silent, furious, and jealous. :D

On a more random note: I was reading up on Amon Lanc, and it said something about how at the end Galadriel used her magic to make the tower crumble....so I guess she's going with us. :D Yay! Things should get interesting. I wonder though, does that mean she can read Phaustas' mind...or whatever it is she has power over? We'd have to figure a way to deflect that.

Well, considering she's a pretty powerful Elf, I don't know... What you could do is get Meren to 'close Phaustas' mind from those other than himself' by the Dark Arts he's learnt from Sauron or something. Wait, that was so undoubtedly inspired by the mention of Harry Potter. Noo, I can't think now.

[Several seconds later...] Here's a better idea: Because Galadriel's all whole and pure, bears Nenya and does not wish to be corrupted by any evil, though she can read the mind of Phaustas, her mind is guarded against the evil there, because her heart does not wish for her to be tainted by it ;) So it's her subconcious will to remain good (like when she says :galadrielangry: 'All shall love me and despair!' and refuses to accept that Ring afterwards) that stops her from seeing Phaustas through and spying out his black soul ^^

Yup, I definitely like that theory. You need to have it in there somewhere! *puppy dog face* (heheh, I love that ^^)

Well, the easiest solution I had thought of was to put up a 'mental block'. We'll see though. {kind of think of it as...writer's block, but not. It kind of works like that, or ...even the way memories are repressed. Everything's still there, it's just not detectable. :P} We'll see though.

**
-is in a terrible mood, just got massively cold water poured on her to wake her up.- Not to mention, considering that fact it's a bit hard to see still. It's sunday, was there really a point to me waking up?

Aww, poor Ere' =( Heheh, my bedroom door nearly got blown off by my dad hammering at it last weekend. I nearly had a heart attack :oddlook:

I thought mental blocks only happened to mortals? B)

Well considering Phaustas is a mortal, ;) it could happen.

:galadrielangry: I thought you were talking about Galadriel having the mental block and not being to detect thoughts like she does XD Oops.

Haha, well in actuality, is she able to poke deep inside people's heads? I'm sure if it were just a surface ability to 'read minds' and such, Phaustas could pretend to have good intentions easily enough. Hah. We'll see though, I'll worry about it when the time comes. Right now, I am more worried over the fact this soundtrack's score is creeping me out. {horror music}

*cowers in the corner, but can't stop listening*

I feel like something is going to come up behind me, grab my shoulder and just scare the living wits out of me. Guhh. Good thing I'm not watching the movie this late at night. I'd be for sure crying myself to sleep like a five year old. Haha. What a sight that would be, I'm nearly twenty-one, and I'd cower under my blankets like I were five. Well, at any rate, I wanted to listen to it because some of the songs remind me of Phaustas. :D

Oh, I'm sure she can read minds well enough, especially since she has Nenya to help her do it, and the fact she can communicate with telepathy :yesnod:

I'd be insane if I ever listened to horror music (which soundtrack?) this late at night (it's nighttime here now)... I'd have nightmares or something XD
Phaustas? I'd say some things are beginning to remind me of Meren =S and speaking of him, can I borrow a part of his character for the evil part he's going to play, well, it's sometime away, maybe, but I've been thinking about it.

[Right now, I'm watching the Opening Ceremony of the Commonwealth Games. Too bad we couldn't afford any tickets to go, but the fireworks were amazing *grins* Pooey... my friend's probably over there right now :(]

Lol, for some reason the word 'commonwealth games' makes me amused. Are they like the ..Olympics or something? Either way, I hate sports. {Unless it's Floor Hockey, because then I get to whack people in the shins and get away with it. Hah, no I'm not that mean. Though I did to this one kid, because he was very deserving of it. Too bad I missed a better mark...hah, but that would have been obvious.}

Hmm, well, for the whole Galadriel thing it never said she actually went on the trip, it just said at the end of it all she crumbled the tower. So perhaps after Varsis and everyone's done dying {haha} she can make her way there {since Lorien isn't such a long trip} I dunno. The thought crossed my mind. That was Phaustas isn't found out. :)

Oh, and go ahead - use Meren. What good use is he if you can't pimp out the evilness? Haha. First word for it that happened to cross my mind.

[Hmm, well they happen every four years as well, so I guess a counterpart of the Olympics but between each. Except this year they're hosting it here, mwahahahaaa. The mention of broken shins reminds me how somehow I know broke theirs picking up a tennis ball once. Made me laugh so much... and I still tease them about it ^^]

Wait, which tower? One in Dol Guldur (if there is one at all) or Barad-dur? I'm sure she can blast some tower with some hidden power of hers if there's a need ^^ Otherwise, we'll just steal Gandalf's staff for her XD

Heheh, well the stuff Meren does, or how he 'impacts' those around him make me want to blow him up with something :devil:

Well I think I read it that 'Galadriel collapses the tower in 'such and such a year' ...' but I don't remember which book. Most likely it was 'The Return of the Shadow'. I was poking around doing a bit of research on Amon Lanc to see if I couldn't pull up more details on it. {since there seems to be so little on it.}

Haha. I just went to look. Apparantly I was nice enough to myself to underline it/mark the page. Here's what it says: {it is in the Return of the Shadow book...awwh, that would have been neat to call the RP that. XD}

Gandalf told Thorin at Bag End that he found his father Thrain 'in the dungeons of the Necromancer.' In the Tale of Years in LR Appendix B this, Gandalf's second visit to Dol Guldur took place in the year 2850, forty years before Bilbo's birth; it was then that he 'discovered that its master was indeed Sauron'. But here the meaning is clearly that Gandalf went to the land of the Necromancer after Bilbo's acquisition of the Ring. Later my father altered the text in pencil to read: 'for I went back once more to the land of the Necromancer.'

Well it doesn't answer my question at any rate, {one I had} logically speaking if the three rings came within Amon Lanc, wouldn't Sauron set out to not only take Thrain's ring, but the elves as well? Ohh. I bet he would, and that would be terrible.

Erelith + the three rings {or even one or two} = major angst. lol Not only would Meren make sure she suffered like all hell, but he'd have another task on his hands to retrieve the three rings. ;D

....I don't think I want to know what would happen if he ever got his hands on any of the rings of power. {Dwarves, men, any of them..}....lol I bet he'd keep them for his own self, most obviously. Stupid Elf.

Edit: Haha, I wrote 'really rubber duck' and it changed it to 'rubber duck.' XD. -laughs-. I changed it to just 'really terrible'.