Sometimes All You Can Do Is Leave
As Numenoreans walk down the streets, they are met with a crowd full of glum faces and downward gazes. Eyes turned to the ground, never up, for this place gives them no reason. This place is called Lond Daer. Those who reside in this place lose all hope, for only the outcast and the wretched come to a decaying place like this. Any warmth still within one's heart when they first arrive, well, the guards' demands of 'protection' money, the beatings, or your first urchin sighting, and then finding the coins from your pockets gone, robs you of those feelings quickly. It is a place that extracts the light within your eyes, for the buildings are rotting, the streets are broken, vile things, and so are the people.
But one solitary face looks upward; if one were to look into their eyes, they see eyes that have seen horrors untold and been broken upon them. Those eyes are subjected to more suffering than the rest because by looking up, they gaze upon the decaying magnificence, the hollowed building, boarded windows, and the scarred crowds of people that may walk but have no life within their movement.
This face, with a cloak over him, soon enters a bar with a faded sign, a door that creaks as it opens, and chairs that draw a grimace in the face as he mutters to himself;
"These chairs might as well be built by middle men" he grumbles.
"What will the order be?" says the Bartender.
"Just get me a beer," he replies, tossing a coin at the Bartender.
The face breathes in and out, steeling itself for what will come.
"Here's your beer," the Bartender says.
"Thank you," the face says.
The Bartender hovers for a second…
"Are you Azruzagar?"
"Why?"
The Bartender smiled, "ahh I knew it! Well how about another coin to keep a secret between friends eh? "
Azruzagar drew his cloak back and looked into the man's in their eyes.
The Bartender reeled back in response, "ahh, my mistake," quickly rushing along to another patron.
Azruzagar takes a sip of beer, looking around the ba-
"Perhaps you could spare a coin mister," asked a voice behind him
Azruzagar glances at the urchin and-
Those eyes
"Mister?"
Azruzagar throws a coin at the urchin absentmindedly.
"Thank you mister!"
The reply does not reach Azruzagar ears, for his odious past is flashing before his eyes again.
Oh, young Azruzagar, the things I could tell you so you could never enter this wretched place that is Lond Daer. Oh, I tell you, never let go of your self-respect, never lose your humanity, never join the striders and head down far to the south. Toooo…
The memory reels to the surface again no matter how much he wishes it not
A village burning just like a thousand before it, a boy crying as his mother lies bleeding before his feet. He smiles at the boy until… he sees those eyes. Those EYES. And by Ilúvatar, it is not a game, oh Ilúvatar. The boy grabs a knife and screams, "I'll kill you." The boy, he's charging at me, but I- I- I can't move, his eyes, the mother bleeding body, what have I done-
Then there was an arrow lodged in his face. The boy falls into my awaiting arms. I still have the boy's body in my arms, and I can't move myself to do anything. I don't know when, but I started to walk, and then I started to run. I run as far as I can from that anguished face, but the mother eyes the boy's life, leaving his eyes - by Ilúvatar, I can't escape it. I can no longer run and collapse upon a hill where I look out to the great sea. I stare into the sea for many moons because if I looked down, it would mean to be looked at by those boys' eyes again.
I looked down again, though, and no drops fell from my eyes, for there is none to give. I bury the boy there, then walk. I walk until I reach a port with a name I can not remember and push all my remaining money into a ship booker's hands so they can book me a voyage as far away from this place as I can. I am alive but not alive on that ship. I eat because of what my body told me to do; I walk simply because that's what my body said to do. I appear alive, but I am an automaton. I - I - I am then pushed out of the ship into the wretched arm of Lond Daer, land of the outcast and of the wicked.
I reside there for a time, simply moving through the motions of life working there on that building, killing some orcs for some coins, murdering a man for some coins.
Until THEY arrive
The Gimilkarasai
His old life came anew in a different form; he didn't even notice their announcement of taking over the city. He didn't care when they broke up a faithful meeting when they started beating a woman who fought back against it, he didn't care when the boy of the mother began cryin -
Thos-e eyes
A pair of dead eyes gleamed with life once more. A silent oath was made then. He would leave this place for good and save as many souls as possible before the Lond Daer took them too. He was a whirlwind, traveling to secret faithful meetings, bars across the city, clubs, and the middle of the street. He talked as long as possible before the Gimilkarasai, or the city guards came. And when they did, he was long gone.
The message was always the same: this place is dying, rotting all those within it, and if you do not leave, the Gimilkarasai or the rot shall get you. Therefore, if you wish to live, leave this place and go to some place where our eyes may gaze upward again.
Where they ask,"Tar Nilon."
Some scoff; some laugh openly; some decry you would abandon this place to them.
"What is there to abandon?" There is no response for that.
A voice then always asks how.
The face replies that if we pool our resources, we could get a single ship to take as many people as far as they can carry in the dead of night. A single person could be sent a week beforehand to argue our case, but not so early that he can stop the first ship from coming. The person sent would then plead for his help in taking as many as he can, for he is said to be one of the wise, and wouldn't the wise would see the people he could help could also help his fledgling colony. There is no one else to help us; everywhere else is too far to reach.
I ask who is with me; most say no, some scoff, and others don't listen. But there are always a few whose eyes alight once more, and their number has grown by the day. We have a warehouse now, where we have pooled every coin we could find. We have a smuggler to bring as many as possible to Tar Nilon. The smugglers have more boats to take us, but we don't have the coin; it is only enough for one, though many will have to be left behind, for we can wait no longer. The Gimilkarasai are on our trail, and soon they will find everything we worked so hard to achieve. Unless…
Azruzagar tightens his hands around the beer and inhales in and out again, the pace of his mind calming down and looking down again at the beer, taking a sip.
Barely worth being called beer. Where did the Bartender get this from, some rotten wheat? Ugh.
The door creaked open and in walks a familiar face: Tôdaphêl.
From his first call to action, she had been with him since the beginning.
She saved his life countless times, spiriting him away from the city guards, angry mobs, or worse.
She was one of the few brave enough to openly call to leave this wretched place.
The one to mollify his words before people, to make a few more eyes gaze up.
Now he must send her away; to Tar Nilon on a small ship to plead before the sea lord to accept them into his city.
There is no other choice for it; our only shot at saving many people's souls. I couldn't bear leaving so many behind.
Oh, Iluvatar, I am a wretched man, but please have the sea lord show kindness. Every soul we have to leave behind is another crime I can never forgive myself for; I beg of you, Iluvatar.
Edit: This is my first time writing a Omake ever or a fictional story so any feedbacks or comments would be greatly appreciated.
Also
@Telamon a Omake for the Omake throne
