Out of Character:
There were not enough fingers on his hand to count how many things Raelyse had given up to ensure the success of his mission. Luxuries like food, water and rest served as only hindrances to his success in a situation where failure would be unspeakable. He could not stop, he could not even slow down. Every moment he delayed was another moment that jeopardized all he cared about. His eyes looked ever forward, half in determination to reach his destination and half out of fear of what he knew was stalking behind him.
His horse had long ago given out, collapsing in fatigue never to awake again. Raelyse had driven it on with such vigor that its legs had just gave out. He was only a few hours out of the Red Forest and his goal of Anebrilith was considerably further away now that leather boots, not iron clad hooves was his mode of transportation. In another time, he might have sworn or threw a tantrum. That thought did pass his mind for a moment, but he quickly dismissed it and pushed on forward.
He had to get to Anebrilith, he had to tell them to mobilize for what was coming. Not too long ago, Raelyse had seen what was without a doubt, the second rising of the undead. They were coming and they were coming in great numbers. He had only glanced at the tip of their powers and even that frightened him. The only other who had survived the sight of the horrors that had emerged in the Red Forest was Findelfin ap Fingolfin. The two had agreed that they would ride to opposite ends of Raiaera and get ready the people for the torrent that was about to sweep across the land.
Raelyse could not help but look back every few minutes, in fear that the undead would come barreling out of the Red Forest at any time and swallow him in their vast waves. On his steed, the wind had blown in his face with such force that it was difficult for him to keep his eyes fully open. But now, his eyes opened much too easily for his liking.
In the moments where his wits were about him, Raelyse could not help but silently jest was what he had become. He was being too altruistic for his usual selfish self. There was a time not at all long ago when he would not do so much as bat an eyelash to help those that would not later help him. But in his time in Raiaera and, the Myrusian had grown fond of the elves, their majestic culture and their beautiful home. The undead threatened all that and while the temptation to run and forsake the elves was always on his mind, he never paid it much heed.
Raelyse did console his ego in the fact that when the time came that the undead did advance on Anebrilith, he would be at the forefront of the city’s defense. Bards would sing and tales would tell for generations of the hero Raelyse, who readied every sword in Anebrilith.
When the walls of the port city eventually came into his line of vision, the Myrusian could not help but smile and imagine himself standing in front of its gates, with every elf in Anebrilith behind him. For that image to make sense though, Raelyse would have to think of the limitless undead that were standing on the other end of the battlefield.
And just the thought of that was enough for him to draw on his second wind and sprint for the city.
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