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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Malachei" data-source="post: 5736106" data-attributes="member: 38657">All sound was muted, and all light had faded from Lórquelië’s world, a shimmer of white and then darkness, bleak darkness. Then suddenly, warmth, and with it, pain. But her body’s pain was nothing compared to her mind. She wanted to stop her mind from outpacing her, she wanted to call it back, hinder her inner knowledge from tainting the holy moment with bitter foreboding. She thought she could not stand it. And then, her heart broke, and her mind was just another vessel left behind. A still cry was firmly engraved on her face, as the orc approached. It was for the first time that he saw the noldorin not in control. Her well-kept manners and her straight stance had departed, opening a window to the soul within: a soul in perpetual pain. Her hand gripped a piece of cloth, her fingers opening and closing in spasms. The orc stepped closer, and an echo of a wail faded away.. . .She looks up, but her gaze avoids the others’, and trails off into nowhere. There is something strange in her eyes, however, both broken and adamant, fiery and cold as ice. Her lips move, but her voice is but a whisper in the wind, ”The shadow.”</blockquote>