My entry to the Battle Beneath the Trees, hosted by 

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Only Ashes Remain

Scorching flames licked up the sides of the homes in the village as I looked on from the outskirts, the blistering heat reaching me in hot waves.

The elven village hadn't stood a chance. It had happened so fast that many had found themselves trapped inside their homes as it burned down around them. Even now their screams echoed in my mind.

From my vantage point, I could see the charred bodies lying sprawled out just outside their homes, having been cut down as they tried to escape. Such savagery.

My eyes filled with tears, limbs trembling, and I felt a strange heat in my hands; but the view before me drew me back, like a moth to the flame.

A home groaned and collapsed, sending flames up higher into the night sky, the sparks dancing in the air like little red stars.

Billowing black smoke rose into the sky, melding with the starry night, ash falling all around me. I was covered in gray flakes as they fell, slowly drifting down like snow.

Surely the king would have been notified by now about the attack, no doubt enraged by the brutality of it and that it had taken place within his domain. He could not remain indifferent to this, not anymore.

For too long Thranduil had stayed within his underground fortress while the others suffered from violent raids from the south and east. His kingdom was similar to this village: hollowed out and burning. Oh yes, it was burning, though he failed to see it.

Fresh tears ran down my face at the thought of the king I had served for so long, so many centuries. He'd been such a great king once upon a time, but the loss of his wife had dowsed his fiery passion for life. His heart was now just smoldering embers, as this village would be by morning.

I thought of my wife who had lain sleeping in peaceful bliss as the fire had licked at the bedsheets, dreaming of happier things; my children who had been silenced in the spring of their lives, too young to understand the dangers of the world.

How long had I served a dead king in a dying kingdom? I could no longer remember. Nor did I care.

My world had ended here in flames. My life had gone up in smoke. Now only ashes remain.

Sweat made my long hair cling to my scalp, dirt stained my face and arms. My clothes were burnt, my skin charred in a few places and pain, pain, pain.

Yes, I could feel the pain coming now. I could feel the burns all over my body, the aches, scratches, and broken bones. How I was still standing, I could not tell, but I knew that it would not be for much longer.

The strange feeling in my hands returned, coming to the forefront of my mind, drawing my eyes off of the village. I looked down and saw the torch in my hand; it was burning low now, blistering my flesh. In the other, I saw the blood-stained sword, still dripping, fused in my grip.

I took a steadying breath. I had done what I had to.

I threw the torch at the base of the pyre, igniting the dried wood within seconds. I sat cross-legged, the blade of my sword across my lap as the flames jumped up around me, my tears evaporating, at peace with myself.

Then the flames took me.