I took hold of Maikasilmë and the chords of Sairinlindë cried with a voice of their own, for the last time that was given to me to hear it, as the moving of the blade that it sat upon has thrown the lute against the cave wall.
I walked past her, through the column and pillar of water and sat myself at my brother’s right while Cernaindo had returned to at-ready position by his left. Tears in my eyes and darkness in my heart I told her
“Steady your waves, My Lady, or rush them through all three of us, for neither my love of you or any other power in this world would make me watch my brothers die defenceless before me. Cool your anger and hear them, for they are like me, who you have shown such mercy as to look upon. Do not rise a wall of blood between me and you, light over my fate that I never dreamed of finding!”
My brother turned his head towards me and looked me in the eyes with approval and relief. We were standing as one, as we always did, as it had to be, no matter what against, no matter if right or wrong, for duty, oaths and kin.
She looked at me hurt, lost, undecided and my heart shredded further. For only a moment she seemed to hesitate then her voice roared:
“No! Not they are like you. You are like them!”
And then a curse of water befell us. It was not a mountain spring waterfall, it was not a furious mighty river, nor a grinding ice, it was all at once and it hit us, drown us, carry us, shed us senseless, defenseless, bruised, wounded against far away rocks, with torn garments and weaponless.
When I woke up Carnilórë was kneeled by Cernaindo, crying, his hand caressing Cernaindo’s bloodied and broken face. He was dead, cold and stiff, and looking not like one that drowned but like one who died in fierce combat. He found the strength to fight her to the end.
I rose, stumbled, and took a few steps in a direction that seemed to call to me with dying breath. Carnilórë rose too from beside Cernaindo and stood himself, massive in my way.
“Another step that way you shall take only over my body, my brother.”
I fell to my knees. Drips of blood fell before me. It was the blood of my brother, blood of whose spilling I was guilty of, as I was guilty for the death of Cernaindo.
“Swear it!” he shouted.
