Prologue: Rivendell

Stars shone brightly from their perch in the night sky, casting pale light on the Last Homely House. Elegant curves and spirals
made up the grand palace, light pouring out of every hall. The river flowed quietly over pebbles near the home, the waterfall
splashing merrily over rocks.

Many forms of elves wandered the vast halls, talking quietly or thinking about their own issues of importance. By the river, one
elf stood alone, his face turned to the stars, letting their gently light wash over his soft features.

Like many elves, he was tall, decked in the garb of a guard. Strands of his long blonde hair were tied up into small braids
tucked behind his ears of his short face. Blue eyes looked into the black sky, smiling softly as he fingered his bow, his thoughts
unknown to all but him.

"What is this?" an amused voice asked from behind the thinking elf, " Malidare, not talking? You must be an impostor!"

The elf was jolted into present time, turning at the sound of his name. Another elf, taller than him stood a ways up the path
leading to the riverside. The light from an archway spilled across the intruding elf's path, casting the illusion that his dark blonde
hair was of gold. Like his friend, this elf was dressed as a guard, the gray tunic and gloves blending in well with shadowy
places.

"No, it is I," Malidare smiled, connecting his eyes with the blue ones of his friend, "I only seek a refuge from the endless
singing."

"I understand," his friend nodded, "Even I can tire of songs eventually."

"You?" Malidare gasped a fake look of shock crossing his face, "Joridel, the grand lover of songs, tire of them? Is it even
possible?"

Joridel laughed, the sound like water bouncing across rocks.

"Yes, I can tire of songs to my friend," Joridel smiled, striding next to his friend, "Yet it is rare."

"I'm sure of that my friend," Malidare smiled again, putting an arm on Joridel's shoulder and looking to the sky, "The stars are
beautiful, are they not?"

"They are," Joridel agreed, looking into the starry sky. He narrowed his eyes suddenly, as if seeing something unpleasant, "Yet
something seems to move against them, though it is faint."

Malidare's attention quickly shifted to the sky, his hand at his bow.

"What is it Joridel?" Malidare whispered, "A threat to Rivendell?"

"I can not identify it," Joridel replied, pointing a slender finger at the object he saw, "It is moving swiftly, there."

Malidare's gaze traveled up his friend's finger to the patch of sky it pointed out.

Movement caught his eye, and he squinted against the darkness of night. The object was indeed moving fast, at the pace of a
cantering horse maybe. It was flying towards Rivendell, though it seemed to know not of the waterside palace.

"What can it be?" Joridel muttered softly to himself, though Malidare easily picked up the words.

"We must inform Master Elrond immediately," Malidare stated, turning towards the house, "Quickly."

Joridel nodded in agreement, and the two elves alighted up the trodden path at a swift pace. They entered the song room in
search of the Master of the grand palace, locating him sitting in a plush chair with his daughter.

"Master Elrond," Malidare addressed, kneeling before the elf king, "Something is coming at a reasonable speed towards
Rivendell."

"We can not make out what it is," Joridel added, kneeling beside his comrade, "Whether it be foe or friend."

Elrond stood swiftly, the music stopping at his movement, "Show me."

The two guards rose, looks of worry on their face as they led their king to the top of the path. Arwen followed behind her
father, stepping gracefully on the rocks.

"There, it is closer," Joridel announced, pointing at the lone shape cutting through the starlight.

"For all we know it could be a spy for I have felt a growing shadow in my mind lately,"

Elrond frowned, not sure what to make of the peculiar situation.

"Shall we shoot it down?" Malidare asked, his fingers gripping his bow somewhat eagerly.

"It could be a bird of some kind," Arwen pointed out from behind Elrond, "An eagle?"

"It is not an eagle Lady Arwen," Joridel affirmed, "It bears wings of white."

"Shoot it down," Elrond ordered, no emotion on his face.

Malidare nodded, taking up his bow of polished brown wood. Knocking an arrow, the elf took aim at the object, Joridel
following his companion's moves.

The arrows sang as they left their perches, streaking across the black sky. The four elves watched in silence, their keen eyes
losing the arrows to the darkness. The form stopped suddenly, seeming to shudder in the air. It sped to the ground, landing with
a splash on the far side of the river. Malidare smiled, decreasing the tension of his bowstring as Joridel bit his lip in worry.

"Shall we see what it is Master Elrond?" Joridel asked quietly, looking into the gray eyes of his king.

"Yes, go," Elrond nodded, "I wish to see what it was."

Arwen and Elrond watched as Malidare and Joridel rushed off, both running with long strides. The river was no obstacle as the
two guards ran ontop of the clear cold water, leaving faint ripples behind.

"If it is a spy what will we do?" Arwen asked, turning her blue eyes towards he father.

"We will be forced to kill it," Elrond answered, his face void of emotion.

Arwen only acknowledged with a nod of her fair head, a hand idly stroking her long brown hair. Malidare appeared running
across the water, his bow forgotten.

"Master Elrond! Lady Arwen!" Malidare shouted, stopping a few feet away from the two elves, "You must see this! It is very
strange!"

Elrond and Arwen proceeded to the riverside as Joridel crossed the river, carrying something awkwardly in his arms. Joridel
stepped onto the opposite bank, carrying an unconscious young girl in his strong arms, a bag of some sort slung over his
shoulder.

Wings of white feathers arched from the girl's shoulder blades, one with an arrow stuck in it, the second arrow jetting from her
shoulder. Blood trickled down her face, an obvious sign that she had hit a rock hence landing in the river. She was soaking wet
with cold river water, her chin length blonde hair hanging in wet strands against her cheeks.

"What is she?" Malidare gasped slightly, his yes running over her wings, "Is she of an elven race?"

"An angel from the heavens," Arwen whispered to herself in awe.

"What should we do Master Elrond?" Joridel asked, ignoring Malidare's comments,

"Shall I terminate her for she could be a spy of some evil."

Arwen stepped forward, timidly touching one of the white feathers, "She doesn't look harmful and I sense no evil from her."

Elrond took the girl from Joridel, feeling her shiver from the chill of the river, "No evil comes from her, and no intentions of evil
do I feel either. Arwen, go prepare a room for this young one, her wing will need tending to if she wishes to fly again."