8. The Houses of Healing
The hands of the King are the hands of a healer, they say.
From the ashes of war he comes, gray-cloaked, bearing the Elfstone, a mere captain of the Dunedain.
He strides though the darkness, calling those who are lost: the Steward of the White City, weighed down by the Southron's arrow; the Lady of Rohan, white flower wrought from steel, frozen; and the perian – the Black Breath bears heavy on them all.
He calls them: come back to the light, walk no more in the shadows, but awake.
In the morning he is gone. Was it but a dream?
***
Sapphire
From the ashes of war he comes, gray-cloaked, bearing the Elfstone, a mere captain of the Dunedain.
He strides though the darkness, calling those who are lost: the Steward of the White City, weighed down by the Southron's arrow; the Lady of Rohan, white flower wrought from steel, frozen; and the perian – the Black Breath bears heavy on them all.
He calls them: come back to the light, walk no more in the shadows, but awake.
In the morning he is gone. Was it but a dream?
***
Sapphire
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