A/N - Last Temptation; I'm very grateful for the ongoing support! Thank you!

Chapter 7 - Wings of Darkness

A bitter wind swiftly rushed upon the air, and a soft, grey rain now spilled gently from the heavens. With a sense of growing dread, Tinuial observed the bleak darkness all about her, thinking of those who had departed. She longed to fight alongside her brother, to be of use rather than a burden, yet she had not the strength for such a battle, and she knew it. In any case, battle may approach soon enough. Annariel bore the lantern, which had been kept unveiled in the hope that any Orc who chanced to flee in their direction would be driven away by the bright radiance.

Arreion stood tall and motionless as a gilded statue, gazing intently into the gloom with his bow at the ready. After what seemed like days of dark, hushed silence, all three companions started as they heard the harsh cries of Orcs breaking out in the distance. They were like the calls of wild beasts, hideous and raw. Tinuial shivered with fear as the clamour grew steadily louder. Some of the cries drew nearer, and ever and anon the dark, monstrous form of an Orc would stray into the glimmer of the light, and each time it lay dead within seconds, its throat pierced by a swift arrow. Arreion was a skilled huntsmen, and showed no mercy to his foes. After some time, the first pallid rays of the creeping dawn came into view, battling against the lingering darkness. Yet the light was slow, for the heavens were shrouded by a gloweing blanket of cloud. No Orc had dared to assail them for some time, which was well, for Arreion's arrows were spent. Annariel was overcome by exhaustion, and sat half-dazed upon the ground, though unable to rest. Arreion breathed a heavy sigh, and turned sadly to Tinuial, the light drained from his eyes. Suddenly, there came a monstrous roar, and two huge, fierce Orcs leaped from the darkness, and attacked Arreion furously, their red eyes savage with rage. Enduring the light of the lantern seemed only to increase their wrath. Arreion was dragged to the ground, but unsheathing a long white knife which hung from his belt, he stabbed one creature in the eye. The Orc fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Arreion began to fight the other with his bare fists, dodging the stabs of its sword with an athlete's skill.

'Flee!' He cried to Tinuial and Annariel. Without a word, Tinuial grabbed the quaking arm of her sister and pulled her hurriedly from the fray. Arreion fought tirelessly, at last seizing the blade of his foe and striking him down, for he had misplaced his own knife in the darkness. Unnoticed at first by Arreion, the Orc whom he had first wounded rose silently from the ground, and loped off in swift pursuit of the two maidens. For some time Tinuial and Annariel tore swiftly away, stumbling over the rocky ground with all the speed they could contrive, until finally, breathless and weary, they halted.

'I can flee no more!' Annariel cried desperately. She turned, and screamed. The Orc leaped forward, and grinning drove its bitter sword deep into her belly. Tinuial stood striken by horror, as Annariel fell softly to the ground, like an Autumn leaf cascading in golden beauty from the dying branches of a tall tree. Yet before the Orc could strike once more, Arreion came crashing into the light bearing aloft the heavy sword of his vanquished foe. After one fell stroke, the remaining Orc lay slain, his grotesque head cloven asunder. Tinuial paid no heed to this last battle, and with a cry of horror she fell to her knees beside Annariel and clasped her cold hand. Annariel's blue dancing eyes glimmered with tears in the unearthly light.

'Farewell.' She whispered between laboured breaths.

'You cannot leave!' Tinuial wailed desperately. 'Fear not my sister, you can be healed.'

'Nay, it is over,' Annariel murmured softly. 'My light fails.' Arreion stood unmoved as though turned to stone, gazing into the shimmering face of Annariel. At length, he too knelt beside her.

'This is my doing,' he wept. 'Would that I had been of more use.' Annariel looked into his eyes.

'Do not blame yourself, my beloved,' she whispered slowly, the light of her eyes gently fading. 'Were it not for you, I would have perished long before this day. Keep my love beside you always. I shall await you, until this world ends.' Annariel closed her eyes. Her face became cold and wan, and she spoke never more. The sky wept with rain as death spread its dark wings about Annariel the fair.

Tinuial wept bitterly, her head bowed. Darkness enveloped her heart, and her eyes beheld nothing in that hour save the faded sunlight as it fell upon the pale face of her sister. Even at the dismayed voice of Thaliondil, as he at last returned with Carnil and Erdal and discovered what had befallen, she did not stir. She felt as though she was being dragged down into a pit of inescapable darkness, and the hollow shreds of daylight became weak and distant far above her as she fell into the consuming shadow. Then, amid her grief, she felt a gentle hand upon her arm. The touch was soft, pleading, and yet forceful enough to drag her back from the gloom. Of a sudden, the darkness fell away, and she beheld the world about her once more, grey and miserable as it was. Her grief remained, like a heavy stone in her chest, yet she was alive once more, and alert. She raised her head and gazed into the face of Carnil. His face was grim and worn, as one who has endured many days of ceaseless toil, though his eyes were kind.

'Are you hurt, Lady?' He asked with concern. She no longer had the strength to mislike him, or indeed to feel anything beyond her grief for Annariel.

'No,' she whispered. 'Save in heart.' Carnil paused, as though unsure of how to reply.

'We must bury her,' Thaliondil muttered solemnly. His face was ashen and stained with tears, but resolute. Blood poured from a wound upon his shoulder though he ignored it entirely.

Carnil looked once into the eyes of Tinuial, and turned then to Thaliondil. In the time that followed, Carnil and Thaliondil buried the body of Annariel and raised a mound above her. Erdal and Carnil then began the task of heaping the bodies of the Orcs who lay nearby, though the heavy rain did not allow them to set fire to the pile. Thaliondil remained on his knees beside the resting place of his sister, and Tinuial sat beside him in sielnce.

'Whither has Arreion gone?' She asked at last, for the first time noticing his absence.

'I know not,' replied her brother distantly. 'Some time ago he departed into yonder hills, desiring to be alone.' He beckoned absently in the direction of the high hills, almost due Northward.

'I shall seek him,' she declared, dragging herself uncertainly to her feet. Thaliondil remained unmoved, seeming barely to hear her. He seemed somehow incorporeal, now, as though hollow and faded with sadness, staring at his sister's grave with raw and haunted eyes. It occured to Tinuial, with a pang of poignant sorrow, that her brother might never recover from this trial. He had always been solemn, even in the days of their happiness - in fact, casting her mind back as far as she could, it did not seem that there had ever been a time when Thaliondil had known joy. Their mother, and indeed Annariel, had always been baffled by his sombre manner. She had often despairingly declared that in temperament he was his father's son indeed, though if anything he showed signs of surpassing him in belligerence. He usually met sorrow with anger, it seemed. Yet never before had Tinuial seen him so crushed, so defeated by grief.

With a last thoughtful glance at her brother, Tinuial turned and ascended the path into the hills. Cold rain lashed her face as she climbed. At last, she beheld the distant figure of Arreion. His golden hair was tousled by the sharp winds, yet he was still and silent as though frozen. Tinuial ran to him, and placed her pale hand upon his shoulder. He turned slowly to face her, glinting raindrops coursing down his face and mingling with his tears. The light of his eyes was faded, and his face was haggard and grey. For some time he contemplated the face of Tinuial, and at last he spoke.

'Darkness is come,' He murmured faintly. 'Never shall I be rid of this remorse. May Annariel forgive me.'

'She would forgive you of anything,' Tinuial assured him.

'Yet I am not worthy of her forgiveness,' he replied bitterly, 'Neither am I worthy of her love, which in my folly I cast aside!' His eyes were deep and mournful.

'There is no sense in torturing yourself!' Tinuial cried. 'For she is gone! Neither sorrow nor contrition can restore her to us!'

'That I know only too well,' He said, 'And for this anguish that now dwells within my heart there is no cure, unless -' He faltered, and turned his face from Tinuial.

'Tell me your mind.' She said gently

'Against my will was my love given to you,' he quietly replied. 'Yet it is no passing thing. When first I set my eyes upon you, my heart was yours, and so it remains.' He clutched her hand, but Tinuial backed away.

'This is not wise!' She cried, her dark eyes full of desolation.

'Truly,' he said. 'Yet I love you still.'

'I am mortal!' She declared with some force. 'You are of the Firstborn. Such a love is not permitted!'

'Thus I have counselled myself!' He said exasperatedly.

'And what of Annariel?' She demanded, 'Did you not love her?'

'My love for her was true,' He replied sorrowfully. 'For many years. How could I not adore one so fair and gentle as Annariel? Her smile would outshine the rising sun, and yet I perceive that my love for you shines out the brighter. I cannot allow my heart to be torn between that which was, and that which is!'

'I cannot betray the memory of my sister!' Tinuial insisted wearily.

'Annariel would wish us every happiness.' He took a step towards her.

Annariel loved you!' Tinuial's voice was suddenly raised almost to a scream. 'I do not! And never shall.'

'Do you not?' He whispered, his grave eyes desperately pleading with her.

Tinuial could not answer, and she took a hurried step backwards. Her wet hair fell dripping about her face, though the rain had now abated, and her shadowed eyes were filled with anguish as she looked upon Arreion for the last time. She turned to hide her tears, and sped away, her mind in turmoil.

Of the fate of Arreion no tale tells, and whether he faded and died from the world, consumed by sorrow, or found hope and strength to endure amid his grief is not known.

When Tinuial returned to her companions, she found Thaliondil resting near the mound of Annariel, at last overcome by his weariness. Erdal also lay upon the ground, deep in slumber. Carnil sat in silence, gazing into the misted heavens which were now brightened by a faint gleam of sunlight. When Tinuial approached and knelt softly upon the sodden ground beside him, he spoke to her gently,

'My companion and I depart tomorrow at sunrise.'

'Where do you go?' She asked forlornly.

'Whither the wind leads us,' he answered with a faint smile. Tinuial nodded, unable to control the tears that sprang from her dark eyes. Carnil drew a deep breath.

'If you wish, my Lady, you may accompany us,' he suggested uncertainly. 'Your brother also, for he would prove a worthy companion.'

'Indeed, I would accompany you,' she replied shyly, unable to stop herself. 'Though I must first speak with my brother.' Carnil's eyes sparkled as with a green flame, and his face appeared for a moment less worn.

'Behold!' He exclaimed, gazing into the sky. For the sun could now clearly be seen, though it seemed distant and loath to shine. 'The light may at times lie hid, yet it lives still.' He gently clasped her hand in his. She made no effort to resist his touch.