[Cuthalion]

Melost stared at the rough canvas of his tent for what seemed like an eternity. When Thelian had thrown back the flap and entered their tent, Melost had feigned sleep. His kinsman, not wanting to disturb Melost, had quietly readied himself for bed, then drifted off. There would always be tomorrow for Thelian to speak with him.

As soon as Melost was certain Thelian was asleep, he sat up and pulled on his boots, picked up his sword in its scabbard and left the tent. He needed action, he needed...what? Anything was better than this gnawing inside his heart. He knew he should seek out Anwenelme, apologize to her, tell her that he still loved her, would always love her and beg her forgiveness. Melost knew also that she would never give it. As he wandered the camp, his eyes searching the distant mountains from habit, he saw Dorlas nearly asleep against a tree not far from Arthain's tent. He frowned as he walked toward the young man. "Guards like him will get us all killed!" he thought as he approached Dorlas, intent on chastising him. Suddenly he heard a sharp cry from Arthain's tent and the sound of muffled voices. Melost whirled and strode toward the tent to see if something was amiss.

His hand on his sword-hilt, Melost ripped open the tent-flap and ducked inside the tent. What he beheld shattered his world forever.

Strange, the ways of the mind. All he would ever remember was a candle, its wax guttered in fantastic shapes, its flame lazily flickering in the waft of breeze from the tent-flap's motion...and the sheen of her hair as it caressed Arthain's chest. He had found them together, both nearly dozing and he knew her vengeance had been full wrought.

"Ai!" he cried as his hand closed on the sword-hilt and dragged it free of its scabbard. He started forward, then Arthain rolled to a sitting position, a knife in his hand. He blinked momentarily. "Melost? What are you doing here?" he asked blearily and set the knife aside. Melost stood frozen, his mind on the verge of madness. "What have you done?" he cried as a fit of trembling took him. Arthain beheld his white face and looked at him in confusion, then Anwenelme rolled over and smiled at Melost wickedly as she stroked Arthain's back. Arthain jumped as though scorched and in that instant realized what had occurred. His mouth fell open but no words...there were no words, how could there be?

Melost fell to one knee, his legs having given out. He had been betrayed by the two people he held more dear than his own life and he felt all sanity drain away in that moment of realization. Arthain started toward him but he held up his hand in a warding gesture. "Nay, do not come near me, else I will slay you where you stand!" He lurched to his feet as he felt strength fueled by anguish and hatred surge through him. "Arthain, I have loved you as a brother, and you would do this?! Nay, indeed I know all too well where the blame should be placed. You are only the means to an end, foolish mortal." He faced Anwenelme and the ferocity of his gaze wiped the smirk from her face and she hastily covered herself. Hot tears of betrayal seared their way down his cheeks as he spoke, he voice raspy with strain. "Viper! You meant everything to me! Do you think it has been easy to never look at another woman...for centuries? You were always in the fore-front of my mind and heart, the shelter I would one day return to! By the Valar, I..." he broke off and threw back his head laughing wildly, "The Valar...I know now that they cannot exist, for how can such a thing be allowed to happen? It is beyond my comprehension. Was this little scene in the Music? If so, I am doubly the fool and my existance has truly been for naught. I forswear ALL allegiances, now and forever! There ARE no gods, there is no faith!" He could feel his blood as it raced through his body and the flame within as it rose to consume him.

"I curse you both with all my strength! You, Anwenelme...never will you know love or peace the rest of your days. May you die alone and forgotten. And you.." He turned to Arthain, who reached out his hand to his freind, "Melost, I...I didn't know, I didn't realize..." Melost sobbed as he spoke, his words boken from pain, "You will see the one dearest to your heart die in your arms. May you know the pain I know now and thrice over!"

The three of them were frozen in a tableau of misery and betrayal. Anwenleme's plan to avenge herself on Melost had born fruit that none of them could have anticipated. Melost gazed at her one last time. "You bear my ever-lasting hatred and curse, harlot! Would that I had the courage to kill you myself, but how can I ? I am already dead..." He stumbled outside, his heart and mind destroyed. Melost looked up into a sky now empty of gods, of solace and the tears flowed heavier now. He threw down his sword and raced out into the night, with the sound of Anwenelme's hysterical laughter in his ears.