[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor blinked in the searingly bright light. She had been moved to a smaller room it seemed; how could she not have felt herself being moved then?

She felt out with her mind for the others, but there was a barrier; something stopped her mind. A sound, constantly beating in the background, was getting faster and faster; she was constantly aware of her own heartbeat.

She looked around; something was dulling her senses as effectively as strong wine, and her brain was functioning pathetically slowly.

Aravelenon reached out to her and touched her. Elanor forced herself not to vomit at his touch."Yeild to me, witch," he rasped, "And all this will be yours to share."

Yes...yield to him and she could have everything...live with this elegant sorcerer...get revenge on those who shunned her....NO! She forced her wandering mind back under her control. Where in the name of the Valar were-

"Oh Bulvard! Oh Elwyn! Where can you all be?" He had read her mind she was sure of it. And now as she stayed still she could just feel him, in the corner of her mind. If she could fix her power on him...

"Yield witch!" He weighed the sword in his hand, preparing to swing...and Elanor looked up. She caught his black gaze and shut down her mind hard on his. The wizard gasped and stepped backwards and the walls of the room began to flicker. It was an illusion!

She concentrated her mind on the illusion, forcing away the fake walls, but still the barrier held...

"Ah!" She yelped, clutching her arm. Aravelnon smiled wickedly as he brought the sword back towards him and she saw on its glowing reddish silver surface a darker red substance. Her own blood.

Slowly, he lifted it up to his face, and licked the blade, licked up her own blood and smiled, closing his eyes as if in ectasy. Elanor gritted her teeth. She could still hear her heartbeat and the wond on her arm burned like ice, but the pain was clearing her head. This was her chance. Raising her hands, she screamed a spellword and magefire leapt from her hands, burning his bony ones. With a yelp he dropped the sword and it started spinning towards her, ending beside her foot. He dived towards it but she kicked it out of the way.

"You cannot stop it witch!" He snarled at her, his scalded hands clenched. "Its power is out, and only one can bind that power!"

"Only one..." She whispered. She looked down at the glittering blade at her feet, seeing its hilt was made of pure gold. But she knew, with a terrible sinking crystal clear thought exactly what she had to do.

"Only one." She murmered more resolutely. Slowly, she started to bend down, her hand reaching for the elegant hilt of the throbbing weapon...