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Old 10-17-2007, 06:13 PM   #109
littlemanpoet
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Roy stared at the others standing at the edge of the cliff. He sat on an outcropping of rock, oblivious to the approaching storm. They were not saying the dreadful words - You killed him! It did not matter. He had lost his mind somehow, and Aeron was dead; by his own hands. He had liked Aeron. And now he had killed him.

It had not been as if he had lost control of his members and had been watching himself do things over which he had no control. If it had been so, then he would have still been in control of his own mind. No, he had lost control of that, too. While they were wrestling everything had been a blur of rage and war and the will to win and throw him over the edge. Then suddenly it was done and he had regained control. Not as if he had fought for control, but as if a lever had been taken from him and simply given back.

He could feel Mellondu staring at him with those accusing eyes. Murderer! they declared. Who's side are you on? they asked. Roy looked away but could feel the weight of those eyes watching his every move, so heavy they bound him to the spot where he sat.

"Raefindan!" Bergil demanded. "Why?"

Roy shook his head. "I do not know." No, that was not entirely true. "Indil! I feared that she might be shot by accident and went to stop him from shooting the arrows, but then-" he could not finish, for he could not possibly explain, nor describe what had happened. They had seen it. That was enough.

"You tried to save Indil by trying to kill Mellondu?" Bergil questioned.

Roy sat there, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He raised his hands, killing hands, palms up, to look at them. There was no blood but they felt stained and he wiped them against his trousers; he could not make them feel clean and kept wiping them.

"Indil was my last thought. Then I was not thinking. I do not know why."

Erebemlin's sad eyes studied him. Roy looked away. "I must search your mind, Raefindan."

Roy looked up, suddenly eager. Maybe the Elf could figure out what had happened to him. "Yes! Please!"

Erebemlin tilted his head in doubt. "Maybe I need not. An innocent would be this willing."

"Innocent!" cried Mellondu. "Aeron is dead! He tried to kill me! How can you say innocent!"

Roy hung his head, his eyes stinging. How indeed? Breathing seemed suddenly very hard. The wind began to blow in from the north. The temperature was dropping.

"Search his mind, Erebemlin," said Bergil.

"Very well."

Roy sensed the Elf's concentration, he knew not how. He felt nothing else.

Moments later, the Elf spoke. "I do not know why he let me. He has been turncoat since he was with the Swamp Elf, weeks ago." Roy's head went up in shock.

"He hoped," Erebemlin continued, "that his seeming eagerness for the osanwë would trick me into thinking it was unnecessary. He will kill again."

"Look at him," Mellondu sneered derisively. "He is surprised to be so easily found out."

Roy shook his head, speechless. How could Erebemlin have it so wrong? He did not seem to be trying to mislead. The sorrow was written too plainly on his countenance: the Elf believed what he was saying. Am I really a killer then? Do I really want Tharonwë to win out? Do I, deep down in my heart of hearts, want evil instead of good? Everything in him shouted NO! but Aeron lay dead at the bottom of the valley and it had been his own hands that had killed him, and Erebemlin had seen his mind. Maybe he did not know his own mind.

The first flakes of snow flew in on a heightening wind. It was getting colder.

"He must leave us," Bergil said.
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