"I have seen it," Boromir replied. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. The blade, forged in Gondor’s brighter years, still held an edge that could part silk and orc-flesh alike. But edges mattered little against what he felt pressing against the veil of the world.
"Madril," Boromir said quietly, "do you believe in a darkness that thinks?" "I have seen it," Boromir replied
Then the shape laughed. Softly. Once.
And the last watch began.
The night answered with a thousand pairs of eyes. But edges mattered little against what he felt
For three nights, the eastern shore had whispered. Not in words, but in the way the reeds bent against no wind. In the way the frogs fell silent all at once, as though a great mouth had opened somewhere beneath the mud. "Let them come
"Let them come," he said. "There are still brave men in this broken land."