[Durelin]

He could hear his breathing rushing in his ears, the inhale louder than the exhale, and his heart pounded its rhythm. Jordo’s eyes raced, checking every corner, then settling to rest on the door to the storeroom for a moment, only to search the room once more. There were so many shadows, as there always were in this place, shadows that could hide a ghastly hand that might drag him back to his cell. He awaited it, so that everything could return to normal. His body shivered in a clammy fear, and yet his body still sweat in the heat of this place. Feeling his legs wobbling beneath him, Jordo sat down on the floor, his hand resting in something wet that he ignored.

Looking around him, he did not raise his head, for he felt it might be a great effort. So he looked at feet of those who stood conversing around him. Many of the voices he heard he could not understand, but he could still hear the excitement in all the different tongues. He heard and sensed no fear in them, and he knew fear. They ignored the fact that they were surrounded by darkness and fire, and that a door could be opened to the great darkness that draped the land of Mordor. He watched feet shift restlessly, most were grimy and leathery of skin as his own. They were all brought together in a likeness that would not be present in any other position. All were covered in years of toil, with memories leaving permanent scars. There was something familiar in the eyes of each, man, elf, or dwarf.

Jordo then saw a pair of feet move toward the door, quickly followed by another. He decided to look up, and found with great relief that his head was functioning normally. He saw a tall being with long black hair that shown slightly, though Jordo could not think how it avoided being marred by the ashes that filled the air of Mordor. The head covered in the flowing black hair turned slightly, revealing his ears, pointed on the end. He gasped, and all his fear rushed out of his body against that intake of air. The elf’s hand grasped the arm of another of his kind, and Jordo let the breath that he now hold escape. She was a beautiful being, even in her condition. He had never seen any of these people at work about him, and he was glad he had not. Seeing them beneath a whip might have made their sorrowful beauty less beautiful. Jordo then glanced between the male and female elf, and decided that perhaps it would have only made it more sorrowful.

He still passed his stare from elf to elf until their backs suddenly disappeared behind a dark wooden door. They had exited the sanctuary, and Jordo shivered at the thought of this. But then he pictured the elves in his mind, and he found himself on his feet. His legs no longer felt weak beneath him, and he felt they were strong enough to walk. He made his way across the creaking floorboards, his legs quickly gaining strength, and thus his stride gained speed. He finally found himself in front of the door, after bumping his way through a the crowded room. He shut his eyes as he reached out to the handle. He felt the cold metal as a shock, and he shivered once more in a shadowy cold. Jordo now wondered what awaited him on the other side, shadows would be there, but what would they hide? And would flames await him to end his cold, only to burn him?

He found himself looking upon a courtyard, still shivering. The cold did not engulf him, but it lingered in the air of this place. He was able to sigh in relief, as he was heartened by the sound of voices nearby. They spoke in a strange tongue, that played a melody in Jordo’s ears, soothing him. He glanced around him, knowing what he would find. The two elves spoke, and he watched them, lost in their song. He was silent and still, standing before the open doorway, between two sanctuaries, and he breathed what felt like open air.