The sun began its retreat behind the calm seas. It laid its fingers across the water, painting the harbor with glowing, soft tones of red and yellow. In the distance, frail forms of his kindred walked gingerly down onto the docs, casting long shadows upon the deep azure of the ocean. It was all so peaceful.
Cardanith had forgotten that feeling. The lack of mantle across his shoulders, the strange, almost eerie lightness of rested limbs, of fingers that we’re not bruised and swollen. Of hands that knew not the harsh grip of a spear. He took a deep breath, his senses flooded with the scent of blooming flowers, of freshly cut grass. And, for a moment, he forgot all that befell him in the waking world. No blood, no guilt, no worry. All that was replaced by an easy feeling of safety, of comfort, as if the realm around him was cast out of silver glass, frail, yet with some strange, unfathomable light captured within it. As if the very stars of heaven’s field were caught still in those slender towers that stood before him.
“The countless stars of heaven’s field were mirrored in his silver shield.”
Cardanith shook off the whispers in his mind. He was found, once more, he had lost himself in the path, and he was found again. She found him again.
“Ada?” A child’s voice rang out behind him. Soft steps fell in behind him, yet he dared not look. For all his courage, it failed him now, when he had to look upon the face of his own flesh and blood. A face he could barely recognize.
“I am here, child. Have you come to watch the ships?”
“I did not want to disturb you, Ada.”
“You do not disturb me, little one. Not at all.” He lied, mustering the softest voice he could, yet he found not the strength to look down on the child. Somewhere, deep within those marbled walls, he had built around his heart, he knew that but one glance would bind him to that fleeting dream forever.
The child perked up, placing its hands upon the stone paling, humming a soft tune. It was light as summers breeze, chimeful and clear.
“Do you think they were scared to cross the seas? I would be scared, Ada.”
“There is nothing to fear, child. Our ships are tall and finely wrought, and the seas calm and forgiving.”
“No, no, that is not true. I am scared of the water, Ada.”
The Noldo paused, his blood turning to ice. What was this thing, to dare so openly mock his greatest fear? A foolish thought, a fleeting thought. This was but a child, seeking comfort In a hollow husk.
It continued to hum, offering a few taps on the stone as it watched another ship pull into the harbor.
The tune slowed. The wind picked back up, blowing mightily across the gulf. It was a strong breeze, at first.
“The last whose realm was fair and free, between the mountains and the sea.”
The wind assailed once more, whipping, cracking, tilting the ships, blowing with a fury unseen.
“But long ago he rode away.”
The storm now began in earnest, splitting wood, drowning the docks in wave upon wave of grey and azure. Many were caught underneath the ravenous claws of the sea, pulled down beneath the raging water.
“Why did you leave them, Ada? Why were you a coward? Why does the crimson tide flow from your hands? Why did you let them die, Ada? Why did you let her die?”
The child now became a shadow, looming over the Noldo.
“Why were you the one to return, and not her? Why did you rob me of Nana? “
“I robbed you of nothing!”
“Cardanith Galadnaith, Autarch of Nothing, leader to a shattered host, sworn to a fallen king, who had not the courage to love that which he had plainly before him.”
“I am The Lord of The First, I will not-”
“You are nothing. You were nothing. You will remain nothing. You are as guilty as the yrch that slit her throat.”
The storm now raged uphill, bathing the Noldo and his foe in a flurry of grey and blue.
He awoke in a cold sweat, panting heavily.
Through the window, he caught the crescent moon bathing the valley in pale silver.
“Nothing but a dream.” He thought, placing his feet onto the cold stone floor.
Yet, somewhere, buried deep within the bastions of his mind, rang a single phrase, as clear as daylight.
“You failed her.”
