"We heard from Beorn that Orcs have recently gathered in Dol Guldur," Gandalf said gravely. "So we've decided to go there and investigate."
At those words, Radagast visibly paled. His cheer vanished, replaced by unease as he stepped forward and raised both hands in alarm.
"Don't go!" he exclaid, his voice trembling. "There's a terrible darkness clinging to that place. I've felt it, thick and unnatural, like a wound in the world. It frightened even . That shadow is spreading through Mirkwood like rot, drawing all manner of vile creatures to it. It's more dangerous now than ever before!"
"That's all the more reason we must go," Gandalf replied firmly, his eyes shining with resolve. "If darkness is rising again, then we need to understand what we're dealing with. Only then can we awaken the people of Middle-earth and prepare for what's coming."
"And besides..." he added with a sly smile, "I'm not going in unprepared. I have help, don't I?"
Radagast glanced uncertainly at Sylas, then back at Gandalf. He shook his head, feathers fluttering from his hair as he did so.
"You and the boy?" he said, panicked. "No, no, no, Gandalf! That's far too dangerous! You don't understand, whatever dwells in Dol Guldur now, it's beyond us. Even the two of you together wouldn't stand a chance!"
Gandalf chuckled softly. "Of course not. That's why we've co to you."
"?!" Radagast took a step back, nearly tripping over his own staff. "Absolutely not! You know I don't fight. I talk to squirrels, Gandalf, not wraiths! And I'm not being a coward, just sensible. Even if the three of us joined forces, there's no guarantee we'd make it back alive!"
He shook his head so hard his hat nearly flew off.
"Marching into a trap with your eyes open isn't bravery, it's foolishness."
"Don't refuse just yet, old friend," Gandalf said gently. "Sylas feels the sa as you, which is why we've decided to gather more allies before entering Dol Guldur."
Radagast blinked, curiosity montarily overtaking his anxiety. "Allies? What other allies?"
At that, Gandalf turned to Sylas with a knowing smile.
Sylas rose to his feet and walked calmly toward the fireplace.
"Radagast," he said politely, "may I borrow your hearth for a mont?"
"The fireplace?" Radagast repeated, thoroughly puzzled. "Er... alright, I suppose. Go ahead."
Radagast stepped aside, watching with growing confusion as Sylas drew his wand and muttered a series of soft incantations at the flas. The fire stirred as though listening.
Then Sylas reached into his pouch and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with glittering powder. He uncorked it with a soft pop, revealing the unmistakable shimr of Floo Powder.
"Ti is short," Sylas said with a smile, "we'd best get moving."
Gandalf was already on his feet. He stepped forward, took a generous pinch of the powder, and tossed it into the flas.
The fire roared and turned erald green.
"Rivendell!" he called out clearly, then stepped straight into the flas.
In an instant, Gandalf vanished, swallowed by the magic.
Radagast's jaw dropped. His eyes bulged as he rushed to the hearth, waving his staff through the flas and peering inside the fireplace as if hoping to find Gandalf crouched in a hidden compartnt.
"Where is he?!" Radagast turned to Sylas, completely baffled. "Where did he go?!"
"Rivendell," Sylas said with a grin, handing the glass bottle of sparkling powder to Radagast.
"Take a pinch."
He added with a playful yet cautionary tone, "And rember, clearly shout the destination when you throw it. If you mumble or hesitate, you might end up in the wrong fireplace entirely."
Radagast peered curiously at the glittering dust in his hand, eyes wide in wonder. For a mont, it looked like he was about to taste it, until Sylas reached over just in ti to stop him.
"No, no, definitely not for eating."
Muttering sheepishly, Radagast shuffled into the fireplace under Sylas's watchful eye. With a hesitant breath, he threw the Floo Powder at his feet and shouted, "Rivendell!"
Green flas erupted around him, and in a blink, he vanished from sight.
Sylas stepped in right behind him. He took a deep breath, tossed down a fresh handful, and declared loudly, "Rivendell!"
The world spun. The air shimred green. For a brief instant, he caught a glimpse through a floating fireplace, Beorn's house, and the towering shape of Beorn himself ambling across the room. But the vision passed in a blur.
His boots landed with a soft thud on solid stone, and he imdiately coughed.
"Pah...ugh... Scourgify!"
A quick cleaning charm whisked away the soot from his robes and hair. Floo travel was convenient, sure, but it left you feeling like you'd wrestled a chimney sweep.
Gandalf, Radagast, and Lord Elrond were already waiting outside the hearth. Elrond stood tall and serene as ever, draped in pale robes, his presence calming and noble.
Sylas turned to Elrond and gave a respectful bow.
"Lord Elrond. It's been a while."
"Welco back to Rivendell, Wizard Sylas," Elrond replied warmly. His voice was calm and clear, like a mountain stream. "It feels as if you left only yesterday, and yet, here you are again. What a welco surprise."
"I've heard from Gandalf that you journeyed here from Mirkwood by magical fire. Traveling across Middle-earth in the blink of an eye... Truly, your magic never ceases to amaze ."
"You honor , my lord," Sylas said modestly. "I still have much to learn."
With the greetings exchanged, the tone shifted.
They moved toward a shaded veranda overlooking the valley. There, Gandalf explained everything: the rumors from Beorn, the growing threat in Dol Guldur, and their urgent need to uncover the truth before it spread unchecked.
Radagast added his own observations, about the creeping darkness in the Greenwood, the gathering of fell creatures, and the disturbing energy that even he, a Maia attuned to nature, could barely endure.
As their accounts unfolded, Elrond's gentle expression faded into a look of deep concern.
Elrond, unlike Saruman, did not carry the sa stubborn pride or prejudice toward Gandalf. He listened carefully, weighed the words, and soon nodded in agreent.
"If what you say is true," Elrond said seriously, "then I will go with you to Dol Guldur."
Still, before committing completely, he hesitated.
"This matter is no small thing. Should we send word to Lady Galadriel and... Saruman?"
His tone carried a hint of caution. After all, Saruman was the head of the White Council. Acting without informing him might offend the wizard, who was not known for his forgiving nature.
Gandalf gave it so thought, then smiled slyly. "Naturally, we should inform them."
He added, with a twinkle in his eye, "But Saruman lacks Floo Powder. He doesn't share our... ans of travel. By the ti he receives our ssage, we'll likely be standing at Dol Guldur already. That's not our fault, is it?"
Elrond raised an eyebrow at Gandalf's theatrically innocent tone. Though he said nothing, the corner of his mouth lifted in quiet amusent.
He understood the unspoken truth well enough. Saruman had flatly rejected Gandalf's warnings about Dol Guldur during the last White Council eting. Though Elrond and Galadriel had not openly opposed the decision, both had privately leaned more toward Gandalf's concerns.
Besides, he, Galadriel, and Gandalf each bore one of the Three Elven Rings, an unspoken bond that made them allies beyond re politics.
Sylas, standing beside the hearth, added thoughtfully, "Lord Elrond, Dol Guldur is crawling with Orcs, and I fear it does not end there. Nazgûl have been seen near the borders of Mirkwood. It's possible that their master himself is concealed in the fortress."
He paused, then offered a suggestion.
"Would it be possible to request the aid of Lord Glorfindel? If the enemy proves stronger than expected, his presence would make a great difference."
Elrond didn't answer imdiately. "That decision lies with Glorfindel himself," he said at last. "Even I would not presu to command him."
Glorfindel, once slain by a Balrog and returned to Middle-earth by the Valar, was a legend in his own right. Even Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, held him in the highest reverence.
To everyone's relief, Glorfindel agreed to join the mission.
"I have long sensed the stirring of a great shadow," he said calmly. "If it gathers now in Dol Guldur, then it is ti to face it."
His acceptance brought a wave of confidence to the group. With Glorfindel among them, their chances felt brighter.
Now that the company was complete, Sylas began handing out small glass vials of Floo Powder. He stood before the fireplace once more, explaining the thod with care.
"Speak the na clearly. Picture the place in your mind. Then step into the flas."
One by one, they followed his instructions.
"Radagast's Cottage!"
With each na called, the fire flared erald green, and one by one, they vanished into it.
And just like that, in a blur of swirling ash and light, the company returned to Mirkwood.
...
Stones PLZzzz
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