Never in my long years have I felt such rage.  My fury knows no bounds.  It is good.  My anger strengthens me and fuels my battle lust.  The malevolent creatures before us can not long stand against the deadly tide of our twin blades.

The last one falls and finally I can see fully this dank den of utter evil, though little do I wish to. 

“NO!”  I hear the scream, but I know not if it is my voice or that of my brother.

My gentle brother is weeping openly but I can not.  He stands beside me, as always.  He is transfixed, a look of utter horror on his face as if he is beholding some ghastly specter.

Perhaps he is.

Could this horrible apparition that hangs chained to the wall before us truly be our mother?  No, this battered and beaten shell of a body could not be our beautiful, loving and gentle mother.  Where is her light?

Her head is bowed, her eyes are closed, she makes no sound.  She looks dead.

Perhaps she is.

I must touch her.  I must know if she yet lives.  Slowly, I step forward.  My hesitance surprises me.  It is unlike me to hesitate.  My mother needs me!  I must act now!

Gently, with the utmost care, I reach out and softly lay my hand upon her shoulder.  Though my touch is feather soft, she screams as if in pain and weakly struggles as best she can in her bonds to escape me. 

My heart breaks.

Yet, now I know she lives, and thus my hope lives.  Our father is the best healer in all of Arda.  He will heal her and make her whole.  He must.  Our family will be whole again.

Never have I felt so helpless nor so weak. I wish to come to her aid, but I know not how. Will I do nothing?

I do nothing. I watch her fade.

Could this frail wraith that lies listlessly in the bed before us truly be our mother?

No. This empty, desolate shell of a body could not be our mother, one so full of laughter, so full of life. Though her body endures, she is dead. My father has failed her. I have failed her. Will we do nothing?

I do nothing. She will leave us.

She will depart in search of healing in a land that knows no death.

I want to take action, but what can I fight? Phantoms? Apparitions? Mere shadows of what were and portents of what will be? If unleashed, could my need for vengeance ever be sated or would it consume me? What will I do?

I do nothing. My hope is lost.

The final chapter of this series.  Of course, comments are most welcome!

Never have I felt so empty. I am nothing but the hunger for vengeance which drives me ever on.

Never forget...

her smile, her laughter, her love of life, her touch, so gentle and kind, a mother’s touch. There was never a hurt she could not heal, never a wrong she could not right.

Never forget...

the evil which stole her from us, which took from her all that she was and left behind nothing but a lifeless shell, a mere shadow, a wraith.

Never forget...

why I hunt.  Why I never rest.  Will I ever be sated?  Can this pit ever be filled by the bodies of my enemies?

On and on I ride, my brother by my side.  Each hoof beat takes us further from that place we once called home.  Will it ever be home again?  How can it be when she is not there?

Will I ever be home again?  Will I ever be whole again?

I will never forget...