100 Days of Silence by just_jenni

Chapter 1

Part One: Escaping the Machine

I woke abruptly to a terrible cacophony which assaulted my ears, causing pain. My chest felt as though something heavy had fallen on it. Despairing, I clamored off my pallet, clutching at my breast, feeling for a wound until I realized that I had fallen asleep wearing my armour and it had compressed my chest. Rummaging for my gauntlets and weapons I cast my gaze around camp, seeing that my brothers were no longer there - their sleeping pallets lay empty on the ground like still and prostrate headstones. There was a yellow-orange glow in the surrounding sky. Thick, acrid smoke assaulted my nostrils and stung my eyes. The stink of burned flesh, twisted, charred metal and death permeated my world. Overwhelmed, I leaned forward and vomited bile into the dust. I hated fighting and in this moment I realized I could stay here no longer.

"Where are my brothers?" I screamed loudly but realized that no one could hear me.

Adversely, my screaming allowed me time to calm myself. Quickly I set to arming myself, pulling my helm over my head, with resolve to take up my arms, find my family and join them in fighting no matter how much I did not want to.

But I hate war. I hate all it stands for, the reasons why people feel the need to kill each other instead of talking out their problems and allowing the talks to break down. But I am the odd one. The youngest of my family and the least warlike, I realized that I could not carry on, that I could no longer force myself to go against my feelings and take up arms one more time, no matter that it was to fight the evil Morgoth and his demons. At that moment I no longer cared. I just had to get away from there.

'Ada,' I thought of my father as I picked my way through the debris on the ground. 'He and I are at opposite ends - he thrives on fighting. I love him and I love my brothers but I know there is a better way of life than this.'

In that moment I thought of my mother whom we had left behind and the memory pained me unbearably. Not only did I miss her but the separation of our once happy, carefree family was something I could not easily bear.

I stopped to look down at some corpses and shards of metal lying bloody at my feet. I could hear faint voices coming from over a nearby hill - I recognized my oldest brother Maitimo's rich baritone and cousin Findekano's clear, rapid-fire instructions to his men. I managed a wry smile, realizing that those two had always been inseparable and that even war would not serve to tear them apart.

The cacophony of battle noise became too much to bear and I turned away in despair. How can Maitimo, Findekano and the others enjoy this? But I know they thrive on it. It wasn't always this way but since we left our home and traveled here, it seems it is all they live for, Morgoth or no Morgoth.

I am sick of using Morgoth as an excuse. I curse him who drove Ada away from all reason, away from his family, home and vocation. Once he made jewels and other beautiful things and had no thought of killing, I was sure that he had once been a peaceful, loving man. But Morgoth and the advent of evil had driven Ada to go against everything he had previously loved.

Now I was planning to go against all that Ada was taking part in, separating myself from him and the rest of my family. For a moment I paused, sickened, unsure of what to do next. My selfish instinct told me to flee from this place of death which I could not bear to reside in a moment longer, but my training told me that running away would be an act of disloyalty to my family. The thought of betrayal was hard to bear. I worried not so much because of the wrath with which Ada would greet the news of my desertion but of the guilt that I would carry for the rest of my life. Unless I could convince myself that desertion was the right thing to do at this time. I was sure that I could do this.

At that moment, as if to make up my mind for me, I turned to see a riderless horse approaching me, and as it came closer I grabbed its flailing reins and pulled myself onto its saddle. Glancing down I could see that it was outfitted in protective garb for war. Its previous rider had left behind, voluntarily or not, saddlebags which were stuffed full. I guided the horse into a rapid trot and soon we had left behind the conflagration that was consuming the battlefields for better climes.

We traveled south through a heavily forested region, crossing over rivers and streams of such turbulence unlike anything in my homeland. I marveled at many of the sights and sounds in this new, undiscovered land, beautiful in its own way. It had none of the man-made features of Valinor with its highly regulated, organized beauty. Arda was natural, wild and disorganized. It excited me and I found myself drawn to its uncontrolled madness. My spirit soared with the pleasure of the exhilarating landscape unfolding before me.

After many hours of riding I realized that soon the horse and I must stop to find shelter. Placing my hand on his neck, I could feel his relief at leaving the battle behind, but also his fatigue. There were no paths leading to any civilization that I could see, nor any man-made structures to be found in this wilderness, but realizing that I would have to make my own satisfied me. I brought the horse to a halt beside a small brook within a forest glade. This place, unknown to me at the time, I would later come to know as West Beleriand.