Tolkien Fan Fiction
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| Renewal |
| In flame was I wrought; by flame renewed: Fired. Red-hot coals purify my flesh, burning away traces of tainted blood. Beaten. Heavy hammer-strokes meld my broken bones. Folded. My spine stiffens, fusing strength upon strength. Again and again do I suffer this handling, until... Quenched. I hiss at the shocking chill, tightening my sinews. Polished. Runes of protection adorn my burnished skin. Sharpened. Keen is my bite. By my maker's skill am I hardened on the outside, flexible within — reflecting the radiance of Anar, the resilience of Isil. After an Age of shame, I am once more fit to serve. |