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The Last Battle - A Story in Elven

Lumennya ar’ nikerym, Legolas, tire ie’ i’dol hosser, mad ie’ gothiosen yassen feuya. Sii’, Tel’Quessir ar’ i’naugrimor caele er goth a’ dagorya.

Faernaa rime a’ corahe. “Aaye.”

Lumennya mae ie’ gilor. “Elen sila lumenn omentilmo.”

“I’raukor yale, arwen en amin.”

“Quel, parmy i’hosser. Sina tella merethlye, nikerym.”

“Cuamin linduva yassen megrille, arwenamin.” Faernaa rime a’hossehe.

“Ale’ randar ar’ randar, ron rusva dur yassen lye,” nikerym puite. “Nadorhuanrim! Ron sina mereth en draugrim!” Ro stampe. “Amin n’rangwa edanea.”

“Uuner uma, n’dela no’ta.” Naur me’e tuulo’ a’ goth estolad. “I’ohta yesta. Lissenen ar’ maska’lalaith tenna’ lye omentuva, Legolas.”

“Amin khiluva lle a’ gurtha ar’ thar.”

Lumennya ame megilhe ar’ ta sile e’ kalina en i’ithil. “Gurth gothrimlye!”

Nallar dune tuulo’ Tolea’ Fuin a’ Silmataurea.
“Gurth gothrim Tel’Quessir!”
“Thaurerea!”
Aldudenie tyale vanwa i’nallar.

Lumennya kawe megilhe ar’ core ed’ Mith’quessirea, hosser dagore.

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