Chapter 8

Deep in the forests of South Elmoth, the dense canopy of trees fragmented sunlight into tiny specks, casting a light across a floor thick with moss and rotten leaves. The air was filled with the perpetual dampness of ancient trees, with a hint of the metallic chill of Eol's palace. Meereen, carrying the dark leaf container gifted by Eol, wandered alone through the woods. This was a rare moment of freedom for him. Under the pretext of searching for a rare, soothing herb that bloomed only in the direct midday sun, he left the cold, oppressive stone fortress and breathed the air of the forest itself.

He searched carefully for the sunny crevices in the rocks at the edge of the stream, and just as he pushed aside a clump of huge, serrated ferns, the sight before him took his breath away.

In a hollow formed by moss-covered boulders, a figure huddled. It was an elf woman, slender, clad in a dark green hunting coat, stained and scratched, yet its fine material and impeccable tailoring were still evident. Her long, raven hair, like a brocade woven by moonlight, lay tangled on the moss, a few strands clung to her pale cheeks by dark red blood. Below her left shoulder blade, a hideous laceration pierced the coat, the flesh at the edge ripped open to reveal the bone. The wound, surrounded by an ominous purple-black hue, was clearly caused by the venomous claws of some ferocious beast. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her delicate brow furrowed in pain. Even in her unconsciousness, she exuded a fragile nobility.

Milin's heart suddenly sank, and he immediately stepped forward to carefully examine the wound. The wound was deep, the poison had spread, and the situation was critical. Just as he was about to help her up, his eyes fell on a badge on the collar of her hunting coat, half-hidden by the mud. It was an exquisite badge made of mithril, with a seven-pointed star surrounding a crescent moon. In the dim light, it still gleamed with a cold and proud luster.

Eol's bitter warning resonated through Meereen's mind: "...wear the crest of the star and the crescent...you cannot bring them here! Otherwise..." The cold threat was like a venomous snake. Meereen had no doubt that if he brought the Noldorin back to the palace, Eol would kill her without hesitation, perhaps even taking his anger out on him.

We can’t bring him back to the palace, but we can’t just stand by and watch him die.

Meereen quickly looked around. This place, too close to Eol's palace, was definitely not safe. He gritted his teeth, carefully avoiding the wound on the elf's shoulder, and carried her on his back. She was lighter than she looked, but her unique elven scent and icy body temperature weighed heavily on his heart. Relying on his familiarity with the forest, he avoided the usual paths and trekked towards an area away from the palace, near a hidden stream. There, the forest was denser, the terrain more complex, and several natural boulders formed a barrier.

After spending the better part of a day, Meereen finally found a relatively dry, sheltered spot in the wind's shelter. He set the elf aside and immediately began to work. Using the stones, stout logs, and tough vines he had found, combined with his experience at Haladin's camp and in building tree nests, he quickly built a simple, yet adequate, shelter from the wind and rain. He covered the inside with a thick layer of dry moss and fern leaves, making a makeshift bed.

After carefully placing the unconscious elf on the moss bed, Meereen began tending to the wound. He cleaned the dirt around the wound, squeezed out some of the poisonous blood, then crushed every detoxifying, anti-inflammatory, and tissue-regenerating herb he could find, mixed it with stream water, and carefully applied it to the wound, bandaging it with a clean cloth. He constantly changed the damp cloth on her forehead to cool it, and tried to guide the warmth flowing through her body. His fingertips, gleaming with a faint silver light, gently covered the edges of the wound, attempting to slow the spread of the poison and stimulate her vitality. He could feel her vitality, like a candle in the wind, weak but tenaciously resisting.

After a long night of toiling, the elf's fever finally began to subside, her breathing evening out. Meereen leaned wearily against the shed, watching the fire, alert to all around him, his heart filled with worry. He had told such a monstrous lie; how could he explain it to Eol? Who was this Noldor elf? Why was she so badly injured in this forest?

The next morning, when Meereen checked again, the tightly closed eyes finally opened. They were a pair of eyes as blue as the clear summer sky. Now they were filled with the confusion and deep pain of waking up, but deep in their eyes was an unyielding sharpness. She looked around the simple environment warily, and finally her eyes fell on Meereen who was guarding nearby.

"Who... are you? Where is this?" Her voice was weak and hoarse, but she spoke clear Sindarin.

"My name is Meereen, and this is South Elmoth Forest." Meereen answered in the same awkward but sufficient Sindarin language, "You were seriously injured. I found you and brought you here for treatment." He pointed to the bandage on her shoulder.

The elf looked down at the wound and then felt the condition of her body. The wariness in her eyes faded slightly, replaced by gratitude. "Thank you, stranger, you saved my life." She tried to sit up, but the pain caused her to gasp.

"Don't move!" Milin quickly supported her. "Your wound is poisonous. You need to rest."

The female elf lay down obediently, looking at Meereen curiously with her blue eyes: "Are you a human? Living alone in this forest? Nan Elmos... I seem to have heard this name..." She frowned slightly, as if recalling something.

"I'm... temporarily staying nearby." Meereen answered vaguely, changing the subject. "How did you get so badly injured? What attacked you?"

The elf's eyes dimmed for a moment, with a hint of annoyance: "A giant spider. I was tracking a rare white deer, but I went too deep and accidentally broke into its lair. I underestimated its toxicity and speed." She paused and looked at Meereen, "Your medical skills are very superb, human. I can feel that it's not just the effect of herbs..." Her eyes swept over Meereen's hand that accidentally touched her skin while bandaging her.

Milin's heart tightened and he changed the subject: "You should rest well. Do you need water and food? I will come to see you tomorrow." He didn't dare to stay for long as he needed to go back to deal with Eol.

"Wait," the elf stopped him, a warm smile on her face. "You said your name is Meereen? This name reminds me of someone. My cousin, Finrod Felagund, also met and helped a human friend named Meereen during his journey. The description is very similar to yours. Could it be you?"

Meereen's eyes lit up instantly, the joy in his heart like sunlight piercing through the haze! "Finnrod, do you know Finrod? He is my mentor and friend." Knowing that this noble Noldor was actually Finrod's cousin, Meereen felt a surge of closeness and trust. Aredil was no longer simply a "dangerous Noldor," but a blood relative of Finrod.

"It's you!" Arethel also seemed very happy. "I am Arethel. Finrod mentioned you in his letter. He praised you for your intelligence and tenacity. You are an unexpected gift from the forest. It's a small world." The common bond instantly brought the two closer.

From that day on, Meereen would go to the hut deep in the forest to care for Aredil every day, under the pretext of searching for rare herbs. He brought fresh water, food, and fresh herbs, and Aredil, under Meereen's meticulous care and his own strong elven constitution, recovered quickly. The two conversed in the hut, Meereen recounting her fall, her experiences with the Haladin, and Finrod's teachings. Aredil, in turn, recounted the history of the Noldor, the legends of Gondolin, the hidden city ruled by her brother Turgon, and the reasons why she loved freedom and, tired of her life in hiding, had gone out hunting. Her cheerful, forthright, and energetic personality, like sunshine, poured into Meereen's life, shrouded in the shadows of the forest, bringing him a long-lost sense of relief and joy.

However, Meereen's frequent and mysterious departures had long aroused Eol's suspicion. Those dark eyes had long since pierced the forest mist. One day, as Meereen hurriedly left the palace again with food, a dark green figure followed him silently, like a ghost.

Eol watched Meereen as he expertly traversed the dense forest to the secluded hut. He lurked in the shadows of the dense canopy, like a venomous snake poised to strike. He saw Meereen push the door open and enter. Soon, the sound of conversation filled the air, even the clear, piercing laughter of Aretil, with a hint of the Noldor's cadence. Meereen's voice also held a lightness and amusement he had never heard before.

A cold flame of jealousy and rage instantly consumed Eol. Those self-proclaimed, glorious Noldor exiles had not only invaded his territory, but had even dared to use their false brightness and laughter to seduce his only "light," destroying the peace he had so hard to gain.

He almost rushed down immediately and ended the life of the female elf with the poisoned dagger at his waist, but his remaining rationality and concern for Meereen's reaction made him hold back. He needed to confirm Meereen's attitude towards this female elf.

When Meereen returned to the palace in the evening, he was greeted by an unprecedented, almost suffocating low pressure. Eol was standing at the door of Meereen's stone chamber, his tall figure blocking the way, his dark eyes flashing with cold anger in the dim light.

"What's hidden deep in the forest?" Eol's voice sounded like it came from an ice cellar, and every word was chilling.

Meereen's heart sank, knowing he could no longer conceal the truth. "A wounded elf, whom I found while gathering herbs," he said, trying to remain calm.

"Noldor?" Eol's voice suddenly rose, filled with deep hatred.

"...Yes, her name is Aretil," Meereen admitted frankly.

"How dare you!" Eol took a sudden step forward, the cold aura around him almost condensing into substance. "You ignored my warning. I told you not to bring them here, let alone touch them."

"I didn't bring her back to the palace, and you don't have the right to restrict who I associate with," Milin retorted immediately, his voice tinged with anger. "It was because of your consideration that I built a wooden hut deep in the forest to house her! She was seriously injured, and I couldn't just stand by and watch her die! I promise that as soon as she recovers, I will leave this forest immediately!"

"Leave?" Eol sneered sharply, his eyes blazing with anger. "She must die now, and all the Noldor must die. Stop going there immediately, or I will not let her go easily."

"What else would you have done?" Meereen met Eol's cold gaze without flinching, his eyes filled with an unprecedented determination. "There's nothing wrong with me saving her. I will take care of her until she's safe. That's the bottom line."

The two men faced each other in the cold stone corridor, the air frozen. Eol stared at Meereen, his chest heaving with rage. He saw the unquestionable determination in Meereen's eyes, the determination to turn against him for the sake of that Noldorin. That resolve pierced Eol's twisted heart like an icy dagger. He needed Meereen; he couldn't lose that peace. Ultimately, his utter rage and possessiveness were suppressed by a deeper, unwilling compromise.

"...Okay." Eol's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, with suppressed violence. "I agree to let her stay, but..." His dark eyes shot towards Meereen like poisonous arrows, "From today on, when you go to take care of her, I will accompany you personally."

From then on, whenever Meereen approached the shed, a dark, dark green shadow followed him. Eol followed silently a few steps away, like a chilling ghost. He never entered the shed, but simply leaned against the tree trunk outside the door, his dark eyes like cold searchlights, fixed on the two inside.

Whenever Meereen talked to Aretil, even if it was just a normal change of dressing or asking about recovery, Eol's cold, hoarse, harsh and malicious voice would come in from outside the door like a venomous snake:

"Ah, are you telling again of the 'glorious' history of the Noldor, stained with the blood of your kin? Why not mention the slaughter of the Teleri Elves at Alqualondi? Finrod will surely not tell such foul tales to Meereen."

"Meereen, be careful. The flattery of the Noldor is as deadly as their swords. They are masters of exploiting the kindness of others and dragging them into the abyss."

"Aretil al-Fenel, the noble White Princess? Nothing but a restless fool seeking death. Why, the golden cage of Gondolin cannot hold you, and you must come out and trouble the forest?"

"Meereen, look at her hypocritical smile. She is laughing at your ignorance, laughing at you being confused by her identity. When her injury heals, she will be the first to betray you!"

These vicious words, like venom, steadily eroded the relaxed atmosphere of the woodshed. Aretiel's face paled with rage, her azure eyes burning with fury. She tried several times to rush out and confront Eol, but Meereen firmly held her back. She knew this was Eol's territory, his strength was unknown, and she didn't want to put Meereen in a difficult position. She could only swallow her humiliation and anger, gritting her teeth and turning a deaf ear to Eol's foul words. But the look she gave Meereen was filled with hatred for Eol and deep sympathy for his plight.

Amidst Eol's constant cold surveillance and verbal abuse, Aretil's wounds had finally healed, and although she was still a little weak, she was no longer a problem for the long journey. Meereen came to the shed for the last time and brought her some dry food and water for the journey.

Eol still stood outside the door, like a silent jailer.

Taking advantage of the brief moment when Eol's attention was attracted by a strange beetle, Ariel quickly grabbed Meereen's hand, lowered her voice, and her blue eyes were filled with urgent pleading: "Meereen, come with me and leave here, leave this gloomy and terrifying place and that madman." Her voice was fast and soft, "Finnrod is my cousin, he will definitely welcome you warmly! Nargothrond is ten thousand times better than here. There is sunshine, friends, true knowledge and freedom. You deserve better, not to be imprisoned in the dark forest as a comfort by that monster." Her words directly pointed to Eol's twisted possessiveness.

These words exploded like thunder in Meereen's heart, igniting a longing for friendship and light that had been suppressed by Eol's shadow for so long. The image of Nargothrond emerged in his mind, and Finrod's gentle, wise smile was so close that he could almost breathe the free, vibrant air.

"Okay!" Milin almost didn't hesitate, his eyes flashing with a long-lost light and determination. "I will go to Nargothrond with you."

Aridil smiled with joy, and the two quickly agreed to meet at the three ancient oak trees at the edge of the forest tomorrow morning and set out together to Nargothrond to find Finrod.

They thought the noise was quiet enough, that Eol had been attracted by the beetles. They didn't notice that, not far from the shed, a raven with jet-black feathers and blood-red eyes was perched on the branches of a twisted old tree. It tilted its head, its blood-red eyes fixed intently on the shed, taking in every whisper from within. It was Eol's silent spy in the forest.

When Meereen returned to the palace in the evening, he was greeted by a dead silence. Eol did not greet him at the door as usual. Deep within the palace, the heavy black iron door leading to Eol's workshop and the core area was closed. A faint green light and a heart-pounding energy fluctuation shone through the crack of the door, as if something extremely sinister was being forged within.

Night fell upon Nan Elmoth. In the deepest shadows of the palace, Eol caressed a longbow, pitch black, its arms entwined with thorn-like metal barbs. He drew an equally black arrow, the tip gleaming with an unnatural, dark purple glow, like decaying blood. He carefully dipped the tip into a boiling, pungent, and viscous dark green liquid. The liquid sizzled as it greedily clung to the arrow.

"Want to leave? Want to go find those self-proclaimed noble Noldor elves?" The flames of madness, jealousy and destruction burned in Eol's dark eyes, and his voice was like a cold wind blowing from hell, "Traitors... must die! You can't go anywhere!" He gently stroked the arrows tempered with poison, and a hideous and cold arc appeared at the corner of his mouth. A vicious conspiracy was woven in the darkness like the most deadly spider web.

The next morning, at daybreak, Meereen, carrying a simple bag containing Finrod's jade bottle, a damaged tome, and a few necessities, took one last look at the cold stone castle. Without hesitation, he turned and hurried towards the meeting point at the edge of the forest, his heart filled with the excitement of escaping his prison and the hope for the future.

Aridil had been waiting for a long time under the three ancient oak trees they had agreed to meet. She had changed into a relatively clean hunting outfit, her black hair fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. Although her face was still a little pale, she was full of energy, and her blue eyes were filled with the joy of regaining her freedom. Seeing Meereen, she smiled brightly and waved to him.

"Meereen, you're here! Let's go!" Her voice was clear and cheerful.

The two men met up and set out on the path leading out of the Forest of South Elmoth, talking and laughing. Ariel excitedly described the beauty of Nargothrond and how happy Finrod would be to see Meereen. Meereen also felt unprecedented relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

They had no idea that not far behind them, behind a thick bush as dense as solidified darkness, a pair of dark eyes burning with crazy hatred were fixed on them, especially the light figure of Aritil.

Like a seasoned hunter, Eol silently drew the black longbow, entangled with thorns. The bowstring uttered a subtle, teeth-grinding sound of tension. The arrow, loaded with a dark purple poison that could instantly paralyze a dragon's nerves, rested firmly on the string.

His cold gaze was like the most precise ruler, locked firmly on Aretil's defenseless back. His fingers clenched the cold bowstring, his knuckles turning white from the effort. The shadows of the forest surged behind him, as if cheering for the murder he was about to commit.

"Goodbye forever...!" Eol roared silently in his heart, and the last trace of hesitation in his eyes was completely swallowed up by madness.

He loosened his fingers and the poison arrow shot out instantly.

The pitch-black poisonous arrow tore through the cool morning air, carrying the scream of death, silently and fatally shooting towards the black-haired figure in the sunlight.