And so befell amid the fall
that aid came by the hands of the small
and in the end conjoined all cords
'twas the end of Dark Lord's.
One thing there was that made this true
and these will be my final cue
When doom seems clear, all in vain
Faith without hope is one that remain.
Laurel listened as the strong voice of Annunfuin slowly faded into the warmth of the fire. Se wanted to cry, but tears welled up on the inside. It was then he heard him mutter to her "Well, we still have both faith and hope, and our hopes will come true." She let a small smile creep up on her face before someone broke the silence.
"But this time we have to trust no hands but our own. No little folk nor eagles are here to aid us."
Thagon's words were sobering, but very true. She nodded at him, and kept silent. His words gave her a desire to wield her sword, so she quietly excused herself from the campfire. Herebrand made a small protest but she quelled it, and wished him goodnight.
Standing deep in the forest, she found a small clearing. Unsheathing her sword, it cried through the wind. Closing her eyes she let the movement of the breeze direct where her sword went in clear movements. Imagining foes crowding about the clearing, she moved her blade and tried to counter attacks that were simply air. Her mind felt at peace, satisfied she was doing something, hardened by Thagon's words.
There was an unnatural movement in the trees, and she spun, blade half raised and squinted to see who was coming through the canopy...
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