Macalaure: Maglor
Pityo: Amrod
Telvo: Amras
Lost Innocence
The ships are ours.
The door back to Middle Earth is open now, we are one step closer to the defeat of Morgoth, the thief that stole the Silmarils and the life of my grandfather.
We are one step closer to doing what we have sworn to do.
Below the deck my father is celebrating, a feast for all of his sons, though only three of them showed up.
Macalaure did not sing today. He did not sing of our victory like father had requested to, nor did he lament to ones that died like I expected him to.
I miss his voice...
Buthis voice is not the only one I miss.
The twins, usually loud and cheerful, ever present, always annoying, laughing wherever they go, have not spoken since dawn.
It is quiet without their constant bickering. So quiet.
Like death.
I found Pityo hanging over the rail, sick, but not of the sea.
Telvo was not with him.
It was strange to see the one without the other, when they were always together before, always acting in a way that made you belief they were one instead of two. For the day they where born..
I had thought them to be each other's mirror images forever.
I would have thought they would be together on the day they lost their innocence.
But then again…
Would I dare to look into a mirror today?
Would I have the courage to face myself?
The ships are ours.
And since I am Feanor's son, I suppose I should join my father, to drink and forget all I have seen today.
To drink and remember we have won much by gaining them.
To drink and forget we lost so much more.
