[Ithaeliel]

An Easterling with a newly unveiled past gazed long upon his old friend's welcoming and pure hand, the hand that reached out to him and offered him a new and better life, as a great silence hung about all onlookers. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the backs of all who yielded to it, and it illuminated Garen's hand so that it seemed fairer, as fair as the hand of Manwe himself. Telegar was moved by this offering, and he did not move as a tear escaped his once-emotionless eye. The world seemed to tilt and blur, but all in it stood as still as stone figures, their shadows forming ominous patches of night on the bare earth. All did not stir, and every ear was turned to Telegar as he stood weeping, his mouth open as if to speak. He choked out a word in a bare whisper. "Restored..."

Garen's anxiety grew as he awaited an answer.

"Restored," Telegar repeated, more audibly this time. "Restored to my house and thine? If it will be allowed, I would gladly go back with thee now, Lord Garen. I would erase the scars that these foul rogues have laid upon me, and repent for all the innocent lives that I ruined. But I cannot. I have become one of these murderers, and it can't be undone. My heart is hardened, my hand blood-stained; I dare not go back to a place of peace, lest I harm another man. Forgive me, Garen," he begged. "It is for the good of you and your people that I go not back. Tell my father I miss him and am glad to know he is well."

Garen looked at Telegar in shock for a moment, then let his hand fall. "I do not believe you are become so ruthless, Telegar," he said gravely, "at least not incurably. Yet this is your choice, and, though I grieve for you, friend, I will not hinder it." He backed away, a tear marking the spot where he stood.

The quiet was broken by the sinister ring of Skara's voice. "Treacherous rogue," he rumbled, "Insolent coward, traitorous fiend! And I thought that you were an ally of mine, Ru-Sahn! You will die for keeping such secrets from me, you beast from an enemy house!" Skara howled, taking up a longbow and releasing a deadly arrow. An Easterling woman screamed as Telegar felt something hit his chest. Looking down, he saw a long shaft protruding from his heart, ringed with a mess of blood and skin at his breast. The slain man felt no pain as he crumpled to the ground, squinting up at the sun. In his last moment of sight he saw Garen LiLorian's face, and a white star outshone all as his body became no more than a shell that lay useless on the earth. Telegar Linrethil was dead, and his childhood friend left to bury him.

In his rage, Garen looked up at the murderous Easterling, his hands shaking violently. "You have slain a man who was naught but noble to anyone," he cried, "and in turn you will die this day also!"

Pulling his sword, Garen rushed Skara, slashing the Easterling's arm. Skara cried out in pain and backed into a heavy club, which he picked up and swung at Garen, forcing his opponent back. Several Easterlings grabbed Garen at once, and as he struggled against them, Skara signaled for the rest to move out. Thwip, thwip, thwip, all three Easterlings that held Garen were dead at once by Feadhros' skill with a bow, but it was too late. "The spirits forbid we ever meet again," Skara called back before all the Easterlings disappeared swiftly into the woods.

[ April 30, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]