Outside was dim and dark, she shouldn’t be here she knew that now. There were things in this wood that should not be. The thought of them made her shiver; she drew her cloak tightly around herself and pulled the hood over her head. Mageia could be at home, inside with the protection of her people around her. But she left in her desperation, to find help to run these creatures of terror and darkness out of her realm. `We need an army, to destroy every last one of them.’ She whispered with bitterness and anger under her breath. Mageia left in the day, hoping to be gone before nightfall, but these nameless creatures had delved new paths through this wood since she last walked freely through it in times of peace. Now Mageia was lost. She unsheathed her long knife, a gift from an old friend. It glittered of pure and clean silver in the moonlight. With white gems encrusted in its handle, and inscriptions of an old and forgotten tongue along its blade. She tried to travel unseen.
These creatures were at their worst at night, terrible fell creatures. They hate sunlight, and avoid coming out of their holes in the day. But if by chance you happen come across them in the hours of sunlight they are still monsters to be weary of. They are of unspeakable evil, they do things to men, women, even children that would turn your stomach. You know when you have come to a dwelling of one of these creatures. Because they have heads on spears, stuck in the ground around the entrance. Trophies, trophies of the terror they promote.
Mageia was a woman; she was a strong warrior and leader among her people. To travel unseen was no use anymore. She could be seen; they were watching her from the deep dark places they had created in this once beautiful wood. She could remember when this wood was at peace. When one could walk through Mirkwood freely, without a worry of being killed. The trees had deep brown trunks, and when you looked up to the leaves upon the branches it was a truly beautiful site. Leaves of millions of different colours, greens, light and dark, yellows, oranges, reds and browns. And now only a small northern part of the wood held memory of the beauty that once was. The rest is a black shadow, which chokes all beauty. She needed to find help for her father, King of Mirkwood. Her home.
They were everywhere. This knife could not save her now. Nor could her longbow. Now Mageia had to use all the energy she could muster, she had to run. The monsters were coming, she ran. The stamp of their feet was growing nearer and nearer. The stench of death was overwhelming. They were catching up with her, swift and fierce. She turned for a second to let some arrows loose upon them, she heard growls and shouts of pain and anger. Mageia smiled, `Well at least I got some of them’. Then in answer to her threat, arrows whistled past her head and skimmed her cheek. She turned and ran for her life. Trying to loose them, even though she knew she couldn’t. It felt like she was running forever. When would this wood come to its end? Where was she running? Was she going in the right direction? All her hope was fading. Her legs were going to give way. She stumbled; Mageia fell to the ground with exhaustion. `No, I have to get up I cannot die, I can’t let my people down’. Mageia got up and ran. Then fell with an arrow in her back. She had tried, tried to escape them to find help, but failed. Mageia fell into darkness. The last thing she saw was a dark figure looming above her, the grimy glint of its fanged teeth forming a wicked smile of victory. Then as it raised its axe to cut off her head, she said with her last words. `Am I another trophy for your collection, Creature of carrion? You will never have me’! And died.
But as the creature was to let its axe fall upon her neck, a bright light issued from the heavens. And the creature was blinded for an instant and backed away with an angry shout. The demon then looked and the body was gone. It then let out a howl filled with anger that was heard in every corner of the wood.