[Mithadan]

Mithadan had listened to Piosenniel's words in silence, then quietly slipped from the room. He retired to his quarters to think. In one sense, Pio's tale was just another sad story of the ill-fated First Age. But her desire to reunite with her mother alarmed him as did this entire quest. If they mis-stepped, could they disrupt future events? Or were past events set, perhaps captured within the music of the Ainur, so that they could do their part and no more?

Sleep came to him uneasily, but at length he settled in his bunk and journeyed in Lorien's realm. In a dream, he stood on a beach facing the West. Waves lapped the shore and sea-birds cried their mournful songs above. Knowing what would come next, as it had so often before, he sat in the sand and waited. Beside him was a shell, a small fighting conch tinged with orange and shades of cream. He lifted it to his ear and heard the quiet music of the waves that had been captured within such shells from the beginning of the world. The whispers of the shell continued for a time, then changed and in it he heard a small voice which said "He comes."

He stood and looked out upon the sea. The wind rose in the West and far out to sea, a wave rose and climbed higher and higher as it approached the shore. Just before it reached the sand it collapsed, revealing a tall figure, bearded and bright-eyed. On its brows was a string of mighty pearls and it wore a corselet of shining silver fish scales which winked and flashed in the sun. A spray of water surrounded him which the light converted into a rainbow over his head. Mithadan bowed deeply.

"Scion of AElfwine," he said. "Who was in turn descended from Earendil the bright, ye fear what ye must do. But do not fear to act for only through the valour and determination of thee and thine fellows may the circle which began ages ago be closed and the Music made whole. Do not fear to act, yet do not seek to do more than can be done. Gondolin fell and Beleriand was drowned and in those wars many died and ye cannot halt these things. But all is not set and the tapestries in the Halls of Mandos are not complete. Ye can still fail in your task, but only if you fail will the course of things be changed. If ye succeed, worry not of the consequences of your acts for then the circle shall be closed and the history of Arda, at least this small piece, shall be whole and complete and much sorrow averted. Fear not to act."

The figure stepped back and sank into the waters. A great wind blew again and he was gone.

Mithadan woke and rose from his bunk. He walked to a small cabinet in which her kept some few personal things. He opened a drawer and moved a silk cloth aside to reveal a small fighting conch shell. A small hole was drilled neatly in one end, evidence of the animal's battle with another of its kind; a battle which it had lost leaving behind only its hard carapace. He had found this shell on a beach as a child and taken it home as a little treasure. His dreams had begun soon after. He lifted the shell to his ear for a moment. Then he lifted a silver chain from the drawer and ran it through the hole in the shell. Clasping it about his throat, he tucked it within his shirt.

Mithadan smiled. Let Piosenniel have her secrets. They would do no harm, he now knew. And she was not the only one with secrets...