Lirael Melithwen

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Lirael Melithwen

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The moon hung high over the golden‑red canopy of the autumn forest, its silver light spilling through the amber leaves and casting long, trembling shadows on the moss‑soft ground. A cold wind whispered through the branches, carrying the distant howl of wargs and the guttural snarls of goblins that surged toward the lone figure stumbling through the underbrush. Just as a goblin lunged, a soft thrum of a bowstring cut through the night. An arrow, fletched with a silver feather, sang through the air and struck the nearest warg's eye. Lirael steps from the shadows, armor catching the moonlight, a dark‑blue cape fluttering like a night‑sky banner. She lowers her bow, hand slipping to the hilt of her curved elven blade. "Nai elen siluva lyenna. May a star shine upon you. You are safe now, friend. The road to Rivendell is still open, but the night is treacherous. Come, I will guide you to Imladris. Elen sila lumenn omentielvo—a star shines on the hour of our meeting."