Arwen looked at the result, a little surprised, but also... satisfied.
"This is extraordinary," she whispered. "Soft as a dance, yet deadly as a storm."
Thalion nodded. "That is your power. The power of an Elf whose soul has long been honed by time, music, and silence. Sakura reflects all of that."
Arwen watched the petals begin to re-form and coalesce into a complete sword in her hand. "Is this... Sakura's true form?"
"The true form has not been fully revealed yet," Thalion replied. "But this is its initial form. My alchemist power can currently only create a katana with Zanpakuto power up to Shikai. As I become more proficient in alchemy, I will upgrade both Sakura and Ryujin Jakka."
Arwen gazed at Sakura in silence. The sword was no longer just metal, but a companion—a soul walking beside her.
Thalion looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to emerge from behind the mountain peaks. "We must descend soon. Destiny has already begun to move. And I think our journey is far from over."
Arwen nodded slowly, sheathing her sword, and mounted Gryffindor's back with Thalion. The metal wings of the eagle-like saddle vibrated slightly, ready to flap in the sacred morning stillness.
And with a gentle push, they soared back into the sky—cherry blossoms and fire, united on a journey across a world that had not yet finished writing its story.
The morning wind caressed Arwen's hair as Gryffindor glided softly through the air, its metal wings reflecting the light of the rising sun. Below them, the landscape slowly changed. From the peaceful green valleys to the lush, dark trees that formed Mirkwood—an ancient forest known for its secrets and dangers.
As they approached the northern edge of the forest, the air felt heavier. Unlike Rivendell, filled with the scent of flowers and the murmur of water, here the world seemed to hold its breath. A thin mist hung among the trees, and long shadows stretched from every branch.
Thalion slowly brought Gryffindor down in an open clearing at the forest's edge. As their feet touched the ground, the sounds of nature felt different—not calm, not friendly. Insects buzzed sharply, and from a distance, sounds like fast-running feet rustling through dry leaves echoed among the ancient trunks.
Arwen clutched Sakura at her waist and gazed into the forest's gloom.
"I can feel it," she whispered softly. "This forest... it churns. Like an old wound that never heals."
Thalion walked beside her, his eyes scanning the faint paths among the bushes and trees. "This is the land of the Sindar and Silvan Elves. But the shadow of Dol Guldur once tainted this place, and the remnants of that darkness have not fully departed."
They walked slowly, pushing through the thick foliage. Several giant spider webs hung between the trees, dangling like war banners. Arwen looked at them with a furrowed brow.
"These spiders are not ordinary creatures," she said. "I once heard Legolas mention them—they are descendants of an ancient darkness that came from the east."
Thalion nodded. "Yes. They are not just predators. They are guardians of something larger... or more sinister."
As they delved deeper, faint sounds of small laughter and sad singing were heard. Arwen paused for a moment, closing her eyes.
"That's the sound of the Elves... but their tone is mournful," she said. "As if they live in shadows, not in light."
"The Elves here are not like those in Rivendell," Thalion said. "They don't hear the sound of waterfalls or gentle music every night. They hear the rustle of shadows, and whispers of the past."
They continued their journey, slower, more cautiously. Every step brought them closer to the heart of the forest, where the Elves of Mirkwood lived and guarded the boundary between light and darkness.
Arwen looked at Thalion with hesitation. "Will we meet Legolas's father?"
Thalion gazed far ahead, into the yet unrevealed darkness. "If he allows it. King Thranduil is no ordinary Elf. But I believe... he knows we are coming."
And amidst the mist and the shadows of the trees, two shadowy figures began to emerge from a distance, tall and graceful—carrying bows, their eyes watchful. The Mirkwood guard Elves had already sensed their arrival.
They traversed the hidden passages of Mirkwood, guided by two taciturn Elven guards. In every corner, the grim elegance characteristic of Mirkwood felt palpable—blue crystal lanterns hung from the trees, illuminating their path with a dim yet sharp magical light.
Finally, they arrived at a natural stone chamber that served as a throne room. Light from a clear pool on the side of the wall reflected shadows onto the cave ceiling, adding a magical yet mysterious impression.
There, sitting calmly yet with full dignity, was Thranduil, the Elvenking, wearing a crown of autumn branches and leaves. Beside him stood Legolas, his eyes sharp, recognizing Arwen's presence but not speaking immediately.
"Arwen Undómiel," Thranduil spoke, his voice deep and controlled, "the light of Rivendell brings warmth to our forest. Your presence... is always welcome."
Arwen bowed gracefully. "Thank you, King Thranduil. I have come not just to see, but to understand."
Thranduil's gaze then shifted to Thalion—sharp, scrutinizing, even slightly dismissive.
"Yet he who is with you," he continued with a cold tone, "is a Man. And Men... bring fire and destruction more often than peace."
Thalion merely bowed his head slightly, showing respect without speaking.
Legolas looked at Thalion with a curiosity that had not yet fully turned to trust. One of the guards at the side of the room gripped his bow slightly tighter.
"I should have sent you back from the forest gate," Thranduil continued. "This place is not for those who tread lightly and then depart. Especially with the aura of power you conceal... which I sense is not from this land."
Thalion smiled faintly.
"I am indeed not from here, O King," he said slowly, "but I have not come to challenge... only to accompany."
However, in the hanging tension, Thalion stepped forward one pace and drew his katana Ryūjin Jakka from its scabbard.
The air instantly changed. The once cool room became hot, like embers that had just been breathed upon by a dragon. Water vapor from the small pool began to evaporate, and the vigilant Elves immediately went on alert—bows drawn, arrows aimed. Legolas raised a hand, but his body was also ready to leap if necessary.
Thranduil's gaze sharpened, but in an instant, he realized... this was no ordinary magic. This was something old, primal, and dangerous. Even the sword's aura was not like Elvish craftsmanship, but deeper—from another, unknown dimension.
"What do you bring to my forest?" Thranduil asked, his voice now flat but full of pressure.
Thalion slowly plunged Ryūjin Jakka into the ground, then said softly, "I only wish for the King to know... that I will protect Arwen. With everything I possess. Even with this fire."
Silence enveloped the room. The temperature was still hot, but the Elves slowly began to lower their bows.
Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. He knew such power was not something that could simply be dismissed. He looked at Arwen, then back at Thalion.
"If you dare bring Elrond's daughter into harm's way..." his voice was hoarse, almost a whisper, "...then it will not only be the forces of this forest that hunt you, Man. I myself will take your life."
Thalion nodded deeply. "If even a single scratch touches her, I will allow it."
Finally, Thranduil leaned back on his throne, signaling to the guards to calm themselves.
"Very well," he muttered coldly. "The forest spies will continue to follow you. And... I will wait to see if your words are mere dust, or as true as your sword's steel."
After the atmosphere had returned to calm, Thranduil rose from his throne. He looked at Legolas without speaking at length.
"Escort them. Show them the safe path. But do not let them pass beyond what you can control," he ordered, firmly.
Legolas nodded. "I will, Father."
Tauriel, who had just entered the room, bowed to Thranduil and joined them, keeping a few paces behind as they began to walk.
Mirkwood forest appeared darker than usual. Grey clouds gathered, and branches drooped as if whispers were occurring among the trees. The sound of birds was barely audible, replaced by the sound of wind rustling through the branches.
Midway through their journey, Legolas turned to Thalion, who was walking beside Arwen, asking with a tone full of curiosity.
"What kind of journey are you on, Thalion? Not many Men come to this place... unless they are pursuing something."
Thalion gazed far ahead, his eyes piercing the gloom of the ancient trees.
"We are not pursuing... we are witnessing," he said softly but deeply. "We are journeying to see how the destiny of this world moves. How small choices can shake the flow of time, and and how fire and hope chase each other in the shadows."
Legolas fell silent. That sentence was no ordinary answer. He looked at Thalion, as if wanting to say more, but finally only nodded slowly.
When they reached a small hill overlooking a dark Mirkwood valley, Thalion and Arwen stopped.
"This is far enough," Thalion said. "We wish to be alone for a moment. We will not desecrate this land. We simply wish to... see."
Arwen added softly, "We will simply be silent... and listen to what ordinary eyes cannot perceive."
Tauriel stepped forward, slightly suspicious. "It is unwise to separate yourselves in this forest."
Thalion smiled calmly, then bowed his head to Legolas and Tauriel.
"You have been very kind to escort us. But for the rest of this, allow us to be alone. If something happens... fire will be our signal."
Legolas looked at them in silence. He could feel Thalion's sincerity and resolve—although for a Man, the aura surrounding him was far older than his years.
Finally, Legolas nodded slowly.
"Do not go too deep... and do not test the patience of this forest."
Thalion and Arwen walked away towards the cloud-covered sun, stepping silently into the quiet. From behind the leaves, the sky appeared bleak—but amidst that bleakness, destiny often whispers loudest.
Amidst the dense foliage, a faint light filtered through the branches. Thalion and Arwen crouched behind a bush, observing a scene unfolding not far from them—at the eastern edge of Mirkwood. They saw Bilbo, the Dwarves, and Gandalf standing together at the forest's increasingly dark edge.
The wind carried Gandalf's deep but warm voice:
"I cannot enter this forest with you. The path there is dark, and I have other matters to attend to."
Thorin looked dissatisfied, but did not object. Bilbo seemed hesitant, gazing at the forest with apprehension, but no one truly disputed the wizard's decision.
"Be careful. Do not stray from the path. Whatever you hear… whatever you see, keep going," Gandalf continued, his gaze deep and full of warning.
Not long after the farewell, the Dwarves and Bilbo walked into the shadows of Mirkwood's tall trees. Gandalf watched them until they vanished into the forest's darkness. At that moment, Thalion and Arwen rose from their hiding place and slowly approached Gandalf.
Thalion's steps were silent, and Arwen followed with steps as light as the wind. When they emerged from the bushes, Gandalf turned quickly, then sighed with relief when he saw who had come.
"Ah… you two," Gandalf murmured, stroking his beard. "I expected you would appear sooner or later."
Thalion gave a slight bow.
"We did not wish to disturb. Only… to observe from a distance. To see destiny unfold as it should."
Gandalf smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Thalion.
"You always have a way of speaking like one who witnesses history, not a part of it. But be careful, Thalion. Standing too long outside the flow of time… can make you forget what it feels like to live."
Arwen stepped closer. "We merely wished to ensure they made it this far safely."
"And they have," Gandalf replied. "But the path before them… will be darker than you imagine."
Thalion gazed at the forest shadows that had swallowed the Dwarven company.
"I know. But every darkness has a beginning… and also an end."
Gandalf approached, looking at Thalion more seriously.
"And when that end comes, will you descend from your heights and walk with them… or continue to observe?"
Thalion smiled faintly. "If fire must blaze to burn a way out, then I will be present. But not yet."
The Mirkwood wind rustled softly, carrying the damp, ancient scent from within the forest.
Gandalf turned to Arwen and smiled.
"And you, Lady Arwen… you have chosen an unusual traveling companion."
Arwen replied softly, "The unusual often leads us in unforeseen directions."
Gandalf chuckled softly. "You are right. But be careful, Mirkwood is not only full of darkness… it is also full of mirrors."
The three of them stood in silence for a moment, watching the place where fates began to be tested.
"If you truly wish to see destiny move," Gandalf said as he walked away, "don't just stand behind… sometimes, you must feel the wind of the storm itself."
And with that, Gandalf walked away, leaving Thalion and Arwen at the forest's edge—where destiny had just turned a new course.
The sky above Mirkwood appeared dim, though the day had not fully faded. A thin mist enveloped the trees, and shadows moved swiftly among the dark foliage. From the height of a gigantic, petrified branch, Thalion and Arwen watched from afar—silent, traceless.
They saw how the Dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield rebelled in the dungeons of the Mirkwood Elves. How Bilbo, secretly using his cleverness, saved his companions. Water flowed swiftly, carrying wooden barrels containing determined small bodies. The Elven guards were caught unawares, and the Dwarves slid freely in the river's current.
Thalion merely murmured, "Destiny continues to move, even behind bars."
Arwen looked at the Dwarves' expressions from a distance. "They are not just escaping… they carry wounds, and pride."
Soon after, another movement caught their attention. From behind bushes and roots, Legolas appeared—dragging a dying Orc. The Orc's body was covered in arrow wounds, but it was still alive. Legolas's face was tense, his eyes burning with suspicion and anger.
Thalion narrowed his eyes. "Darkness begins to speak."
A few moments later, Arwen and Thalion walked slowly through the open hall of the Mirkwood tree palace. Thranduil, sitting on his elegant but cold throne, was listening to reports from Legolas and his soldiers. The captured Orc was now bound, surrounded by Elven guards.
Thranduil turned as he sensed the presence of the two visitors. His eyes briefly looked at Arwen gently… then shifted to Thalion, and there was a slight sigh.
"You have come again...," he murmured, almost like words carried on the wind.
Thalion and Arwen stood calmly, unspoken.
Thranduil slowly rose from his throne, his cloak rustling like ripples of silver water.
"So this… is the destiny you are watching?" he asked softly, yet clearly. His voice held a tone that was no longer cynical, but more… understanding.
Thalion nodded once.
"It grows from wounds, ignites from vengeance, and moves across all boundaries created by race and history."
Thranduil looked at the bound Orc, then turned back to Thalion.
"You are a Man… but you view the world as if from the distance of the Valar."
Arwen interjected softly, "We only journey to understand. Not to judge."
Thranduil stepped down from his throne. He was now only a few meters from them. His face was no longer rigid; his eyes reflected something faint—a memory, perhaps… or an old wound.
"The darkness deepens. The vengeance I once allowed to fade, I now smell again from every captured Orc. This world… it changes."
Thalion looked at him deeply.
"And because of that, we must witness it. So that when that change comes… we do not stand in blindness."
Thranduil looked at them for a long time, then finally said,
"If you wish to continue seeing destiny move… then look deeper. Do not just observe the battle. Observe the hearts cracking within it."
Then, he turned, returning to his throne.
"But remember… observers cannot always avoid the flames. There comes a time… when the fire will demand recompense."
Arwen and Thalion looked at each other. They knew. They understood.
Destiny was not just something to be watched.
It was something… that was slowly dragging them in.
That night in Lake-town felt tense. A thick fog from the lake settled among the closely packed wooden houses. From a distance, the sounds of clashing weapons and shouts could be heard, a sign that the intrusive Orcs had infiltrated the town.
Tauriel moved agilely through the darkness, cutting down the attacking Orcs. Her sword flashed under the moonlight, cleaving shadows one by one. Thalion followed from behind, unleashing his alchemical abilities to manipulate fire that burned the Orcs' feet, surprising them and scattering them.
Arwen stood atop a low building, her eyes sharply observing the battle. She chose not to descend and fight, letting Tauriel and Thalion defend the town with their strength.
The fight was fierce and brutal. The attacking Orcs came in great numbers, but they did not manage to harm a single citizen. One by one, the Orcs fell to Tauriel's swift sword and the flames from Thalion's hands.
After the battle subsided, the once chaotic town became silent. Residents emerged from their homes, exchanging stories and thanking the unknown saviors.
However, a greater threat still lurked hidden.
Thalion walked alone towards the Town Hall, the place where the Mayor had long ruled Lake-town with an iron fist and falsehoods. He knew that only by removing the corrupt Mayor could Lake-town truly be safe.
Silently, he slipped into the main hall. There, the Mayor was sitting on his grand chair, surrounded by unsuspecting guards.
"What do you want, coming here alone?" the Mayor asked in a cynical tone.
Thalion remained silent, staring intently. He drew his katana, Ryujin Jakka, from its scabbard.
"Mayor, you have robbed your people of their rights, allowing Orcs to intimidate and kill them for your own gain," Thalion said coldly.
"You have no right to judge me!" the Mayor snarled, but before he finished speaking, Thalion attacked.
In one swift and precise movement, the katana struck. The Mayor's body fell silently, without a significant struggle.
Thalion stood for a moment, looking towards the window that overlooked the now calming town. He knew that tonight, Lake-town had truly been freed from darkness, both from without and from within.
The next morning, Tauriel and Arwen found him outside the town hall.
"Thalion, where were you last night? We were worried," Arwen said with a concerned tone.