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Just as the Wargs and Orcs began to encircle the company from all directions, the Brown Wizard Radagast burst from the forest on his rabbit-drawn sled, provocatively drawing a significant portion of the pursuing horde away.

Immediately after, Kael's carriage emerged, hurtling through the trees. Kael cast a swift spell, knocking aside two Wargs that blocked his path, and then grandly steered the carriage in another direction. The pony pulling the cart, seemingly unfazed by the weight or the chaos, galloped wildly, its speed surprising even Kael.

Watching their targets split and flee in two different directions, the hundreds of Orcs and Wargs divided, half pursuing Radagast, the other half Kael.

Radagast, relying on the incredible speed of his Rhosgobel rabbits and his superb driving skills, darted through the mountains and forests as if on flat ground, narrowly evading the Wargs.

Kael's flight was a different spectacle. Though his pony was fast, it couldn't quite outpace the Wargs. So, whenever they closed in, he would unleash a spell, repelling a group, creating a temporary reprieve. But the Wargs would soon catch up again, only for him to knock another group aside. This relentless, cyclical dance steadily thinned the ranks of the Orcs and Wargs chasing him.

Wargs are cunning and intelligent creatures, their relationship with Orcs one of cooperation rather than mere subordination. Realizing they were gaining no advantage, they disregarded the curses of the Orcs on their backs, broke off their pursuit of Kael, and turned their attention toward the others.

Kael's original goal was to lure the enemies away. Seeing them abandon the chase, he immediately changed direction, now pursuing the Wargs and Orcs instead.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Kael caught up to a Warg, and a spell shot forth, freezing the creature mid-stride. The Orc on its back was flung off by the sudden inertia.

Before Kael could cast another spell, a flying arrow pierced the Orc's head, sending it instantly to its demise.

"Who stole my kill?" Kael muttered, looking in the direction from which the arrow had come.

A long, clear horn blast echoed in the distance. The ground vibrated, and the thunder of countless hooves rapidly approached. A tall, silver-clad army, gleaming in magnificent, elegant armor, rode on large, swift steeds. They swept across the wilderness, relentlessly pursuing the remaining Orcs and Wargs.

Their skill was breathtaking. Every arrow found its mark, and every swing of their swords cleaved an Orc's head from its shoulders. It was a perfect display of choreographed combat, a deadly ballet. These were Elven warriors.

Facing the invincible Elven cavalry, the Orcs and Wargs could not mount an effective defense. They were routed with a single, devastating blow. After losing more than half of their fighting strength, they broke ranks and fled in disarray.

The Elves, disciplined and orderly, halted their pursuit after a set distance, then systematically began to dispatch any Orcs and Wargs still drawing breath. One contingent of Elves then turned and rode towards Kael.

The leading Elf rode a tall, white steed. He was clad in magnificent armor beneath a midnight-blue war-robe. His face showed no sign of age, neither old nor young, his dark hair falling smoothly down his back, bound by an exquisite silver circlet. His grey eyes, wise and profound, seemed to contain the vastness of ages, exuding an aura of nobility and majesty that commanded awe.

"Greetings, distant traveler. May I know your name?"

"Kael. A wizard from the West."

"Kael, the Black-robed Wizard? Friend of the Halflings, Tree-feller of the Huorns, Bane of the Barrow-wights—your name is known even among the Elves," the Elf said, his voice a blend of curiosity and scrutiny. "But now, I suppose we must also add the honorable title of Foe of Orcs." His piercing grey eyes seemed to see through all things, discerning every secret. "Moreover, I sense a certain… fear from other races about you. Have you been to the Trollshaws?"

"Trolls attacked several nearby villages," Kael explained. "Gandalf and I went to the Trollshaws to rescue the villagers and killed a number of the creatures."

"A noble act," the Elf said, nodding his approval. "So Gandalf also came with you?"

"We traveled together, but just now I was responsible for luring away the Orcs and Wargs, and we became separated."

Hearing this, the Elf's demeanor softened, becoming markedly friendlier. "Since you are a friend of Gandalf, please come with us."

As they rode together, the Elves remained remarkably quiet, a stark contrast to the boisterous dwarves Kael had grown accustomed to. The dwarves and Elves were truly two extremes: one talked too much, the other talked too little, like a procession of silent statues.

Rivendell, hidden deep within a heath-covered wilderness, was surrounded by formidable valleys, dense forests, treacherous swamps, and winding streams. Its location was secret, almost impossible to find without guidance. Kael, driving his carriage, followed the Elven procession down a steep, winding path into a hidden canyon.

The moment he stepped into Rivendell, Kael's eyes widened in wonder, as if he had stumbled into a dream realm forgotten by time. Wildflowers bloomed in vibrant profusion, and winding paths paved with white gravel meandered through the idyllic landscape. Pristine and elegant buildings spread along the valley and riverbanks, built organically into the terrain, arranged in harmonious precision: palaces, towers, bridges, gardens, and terraces, one flowing into the next.

What impressed Kael most was the incredibly powerful energy enveloping Rivendell, making the air thick with magic. The valley felt perpetually spring-like, vibrant with life, and imbued with an aura of sacred peace. Such power, Kael knew, could only stem from Elrond, the Master of Rivendell, who possessed the Ring of Air, Vilya.

On the other side of the forest, after Kael and Radagast had drawn away the majority of the Orcs and Wargs, Gandalf had led Bilbo and the dwarves into a secret passage, emerging eventually into Rivendell. The company had just crossed a narrow, railing-less stone bridge, arriving at the entrance of the Hidden Valley.

An Elf descended the steps to greet them. "Mithrandir," he said, bowing respectfully.

"Ah, Lindir," Gandalf replied warmly. "Long time no see!" He then inquired, "Where is Lord Elrond? I wish to speak with him."

"Lord Elrond is not here," Lindir replied.

"Not here?" Gandalf asked, puzzled. "Where is he?"

Just then, a horn blast sounded from outside Rivendell's entrance, and a troop of Elven cavalry, fully armored, rode in an orderly fashion across the stone bridge. Seeing the warriors in full battle gear, the dwarves instinctively grew alert.

"Alert!" Thorin shouted. "Weapons ready! Tighten formation!"

With a swift, practiced movement, the dwarves drew their axes and swords, pulling Bilbo into their center, forming a defensive circle, backs to one another.

The Elven cavalry, however, were not aggressive. They simply circled the dwarves, almost playfully, like children taunting a nervous animal.

"Kael! I see Kael!" Bilbo's eyes lit up as he spotted the carriage following the Elven cavalry. He tried to squeeze out from among the dwarves to greet him.

"Gandalf," the black-haired Elf leading the Elven cavalry said, acknowledging the wizard.

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf replied, bowing respectfully. "My friend, where have you been?"

Elrond dismounted, handing his sword to his secretary, Lindir. "Hunting a group of Orcs who crossed the Bruinen River and trespassed into the Elven lands." He then gave a meaningful look at the wary dwarves. "It is strange that these Orcs would venture so close to our borders. Something, or someone, must have attracted them."

Then, he changed the subject with a subtle shift in his gaze. "Oh, by the way, while we were hunting Orcs, we met one of your companions and invited him to join us." He gestured toward Kael, who had arrived with the Elves.

(End of Chapter)

***

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