In Continuance of Me... by Ellie  

A hideous, shrouded creature is upon me. I am rooted in place, unable to escape. I clutch at the very earth beneath me, struggling to remain upright. I feel the creature’s darkness enter me. I cannot fall. I WILL NOT FALL!

A second creature joins the first, piercing my side with a great black stick pointed with deadly metal. I feel wetness seep from the wound all the way down to the ground beside me. Suddenly the first hideous creature places its mouth upon my wound. Nay! Inside of it! 

It is drinking my blood!

I do not have the voice to cry out. I lash about, striking down upon the dark form, but to no avail. I reach out as far as I can in every direction, mutely begging for aid in my terror, but no one comes. I raise my limbs toward the sky, desperately pleading in silent supplication, but my prayers are not answered.

I face my foe alone.

Pain suffuses my very being until its dark agony is all I know. My enemy drains the last light from my spirit and the last drops of blood from my withering veins. I am fading, trembling, a mere husk of what I once was. Poison consumes me from within. 

 I am about to - or I am going to - die; either expression is correct.

But my kind was made never to die!  Yet, here my strength fails me. The light that I lived for is gone. But, as long as a piece of me retains some shred of life, can I really die? All of my hope has died. I do not know.

My weary limbs fall, shattering upon the ground all around me. I am spent.

Vaguely I sense my youngest child - the last fruit of my body - tumble to the blackened dirt and roll away from the broken carnage that is her mother, that is me. As my soul fades, my last thoughts are of my little daughter. I pray that the Holy Mother who gave me life will find her and give light to her small life, too. Perhaps, my precious babe will shine in remembrance, in continuance of me...  

“...the flower and the fruit Yavanna gave to Aulë, and Manwë hallowed them, and Aulë and his people made vessels to hold them and preserve their radiance. These vessels the Valar gave to Varda, that they might become lamps of heaven, outshining the ancient stars…
Anar the Fire-golden, fruit of Laurelin they named the Sun.”

--“Of the Sun and Moon”; The Silmarillion

Chapter End Notes

It seemed only fitting that the last line of my Famous Last Lines fic should be the name of my story.

Leave a Comment