Herings lips moved and yet no words would come out. His body felt numb but a hot and yet cold caressed the back of his, similar to how his mother did when he was just a child. Tears welled up in swollen eye sockets and threatened to break through the thin line of skin to parade down Herings cheek. His head was crushed and he was getting buried alive, he could feel it, an overwhelming pressure hitting him that would be able to get shook off. But the only thing that remained was the buzzing, a strange buzzing that Hering hadn't even gotten used to. Deep down he knew he was dead, if not physically yet for sure mentally. Yet there was nothing for him to do. He had failed, and as he laid there, in that cold marble floor, head obliterated, body battered, wrists broken, will scrambled, and bathing in hot fresh blood he finally could hear again, and not just hear, but also see!
Twas but a blink but Hering found himself crouching in the dirt, the shadow of his house falling over him as he covered his mouth with both tiny hands. A smile painted on his face while he stifled a giggle. As he crouched on the floor and tried not to laugh soft but not silent footsteps could be heard coming around the corner of the house, the shadow figure of his older brother Duilin looming against the dirt. "I wonder where little Hering could be?" He said, his voice full of fake confusion. Hering would once more stifled a giggle and press himself deeper into the corner of the house, drawing his legs in and messing with the floor to obscure his tracks. He'd always been a good hider and tracker, even for a 6 year ol! "Gotcha!" Duilin would say, jumping into Herings line of vision with a triumphant look on his face. Hering moved his hands from his face and pouted, the joy from earlier gone. "I was in a good hiding spot!" He pouted
"Your supposed to get caught though. That's how the game works."
"But I didn't want to get caught! I was in such a good spot!"
"Sometimes you don't get to choose your situation little brother. Sometimes you are where you are..." Duilin would tell him, the first of many lessons brought to him. Yet that was a time of peace in Herings eyes. The time before the shadow overcame his family."
Another blink and that memory shifted to a new one, the path that would lead to his own death. Standing in the doorway would be Pa and his eldest brother Ostoher, named after one of the Kings. Outside similar scenes could be seen of families saying goodbye to one another as fathers, brothers, husbands, nephews, and co-workers. A call for recruitment had come and his village was one of the victims, the time had finally come. Pa would hug each of us slowly, kissing us on the top of our heads and murmuring promises of him returning and seeing us all again. Meanwhile Ostoher stood stoically, but tears were clearly visible in his eyes. Looking at him Duilin would lightly punch him in the arm "What's wrong soldier, to good for us to say goodbye?" He jokingly questioned, but the glare that he received from Ostoher caused him to back up. His brother turning around and walking outside, that would be the last time he ever saw his brother again, for ever sense that day, he had been dead to the family.
He had always wondered why Ostoher had left like that, what was going through his head. Did he ever break down in the middle of the night and think to go back to that time and say goodbye to us? Sadly he never knew the answer to that questions. His brothers patrol being slaughtered by orcs only two years after leaving. Suddenly Hering found himself leaning against a tree, instead of black he was wearing a green cloak and hood. Around him in trees, or also hidden behind tree trucks were other similarly dressed men. The Ithilien Rangers! This was a prized memory after the war ended, Herings bowstring would tighten as an arrow was put on it. A silent signal occurred, or perhaps it was a horn? Either way Hering found himself darting out of his cover and firing his arrow at the approaching army of southrons. They never knew what hit them, great Oliphants were turned into porcupines and Haradrim Warriors fell dead. It was a grand slaughter, at the end of it all he found himself among many other Rangers standing over two strange dwarfs and one devil creature.
Finally he reached one o f the closer memories to his current time, this time he was in black and preparing himself to go meet the survivors of the Mordor expedition, the idea in Herings mind was never a good idea. A few scouts should of only been sent out, and now instead were hundreds of injured and thousands dead. Hering was finishing gathering his gear when a man came up to him "Sir, a message for Hering-"
"Thank you." He said, taking the letter and opening it, he was in a rush and didn't need formalities, hell if this was an order for him to come back to the capital he'd be pissed. Opening the letter he'd start to read it, over and over again until Tildir snuck up behind him and scared him. "Let's go, were leaving. You okay?" He asked, Hering had turned his head away and was grimacing, obviously trying to keep some emotion in check, in his hand was the letter.
"I'm fine." He lied, throwing the note into the nearby fire before also putting that out. Grabbing his gear he'd head out to go get those sorry sons of bitches. In reality however he was not fine, in fact he was furious. Furious because now he was alone in this world. First Ostoher by an Orc party, then Pa at Osgiliath, Duilin defending Minas Tirith, and now Ma at home. All of his family were gone and with marriage not appearing to be a upcoming thing it looked like his families line would end with him, that was unless he had made a bastard son or daughter along the road.
Finally he was back,the buzzing returned and body giving up to the injuries dealt to him by that bastard shifter, the one who had killed so many innocents and friends of his. He found himself actually being able to slowly mumble out the names of all the people he lost. "Pethon... Malfinder... Tildir... Ma... Pa...Ostoher... Dueling..." And so much more until finally his last words: "Hering... You have done your duty. Rest for eternity lad.
