Goodbye to Sanity

The birch trees of Brethil whipped violently in the untamed storm. They cast flickering shadows over two young Edain and a single Elf. The elder boy kept his arrow pointed at the Elf, the whites of his eyes glinting like cold stars burning through the sheets of rain.

Saeros's grip on his wooden bow tightened. The infantile boy refused to acknowledge that he had the mind of a brash, wild creature, willing to trample over innocents just to appease his selfish desires.

"I don't plan to ask you again," the Elda warned. Acrid frustration simmered at the back of his throat. "Drop your weapon; do not point that arrow to a High Counselor of Thingol."

"Your title does not faze me," the boy retorted. Behind him, shrouded by the gloom, the younger boy lay curled on the ground. He watched the scene, clutching his injured leg as the blood stained his hands red, even though a strip of his brother's tunic was wrapped around it. "Your temper further convinces me of your guilt. Since when did the Eldar have a reason to harm the Haladin children?"

"This arrow you speak of," said Saeros, "came from out of the bushes. The pursuer either had a cruel heart, or couldn't tell the difference between beast and man."

"You are the only being I've come across in this confounded storm!" The boy was practically shouting to overpower the howling winds. "Candir son of Handir will not take a shot to his brother lightly. For all I know, you could be a Noldorin kinslayer who cares not about what he kills on his hunt— only that he gets to the luxury to shed blood." Candir must have noticed the narrowing of Saeros' eyes, for he persisted in his taunts and adorned an amused smirk. "I see your contorting face, that glaring wrath. I hear the words you spew. I always imagined a certain Noldo from legends past to be like you: the kinslayer who sparked the flame. I wonder, do you answer to the name 'Spirit of Fire'?"

"Watch your tongue, insolent human!" So the boy had chosen to be idiotic. Saeros knocked his own arrow and pointed it to his new enemy. "I am no Noldo." He stalked out of the trees' shadows, his boots treading on slippery rock. Like a predator assessing its prey, Saeros stayed parallel to the human as they walked in a circle, each of their arrows poised to penetrate their undaunted faces. The Taeglin swelled below, a raging river between the chasm. The angry rain continued to assail, wetting their hair so they appeared to bear dark battle slashes across their cheeks.

Perhaps, on his evil throne in Angband, Morgoth himself was their spectator, encouraging the fight to escalate.

The bleeding boy was attempting to prop himself up by his arm, angling himself towards the duel. He choked on his tears and the bitter rain as he cried out: "Brother, please..."

"Stay back, Brandir," Candir merely said, not letting his glare leave Saeros. He bared his teeth. If Tilion were present, they would have flashed in the moonlight. "It's a shame your kind fails to equal the Noldor's superior fighting reputation."

"I beg to differ," Saeros growled. "You yourself could be mistaken for a Noldorin elf full of festering fire, Adanedhel." He cast his bow and arrow to the ground.

The child mirrored his action. "Is that a compliment?"

"Certainly not." Saeros felt the dagger at his side, a blade made for skinning his animal kills. Unsheathing it with haste, he ignored the misplacing of his finger over its sharp edge. On that night, a thin sliver amounted to naught. "You forget that mortal blood flows in your veins!"

He lunged at his enemy, pinning him to the ground. Saeros pressed his knees into the boy's stomach, hoping he'd feel ribs shattering under the pressure.

It was no challenge for the Elf to keep his high ground; Candir's screams proved his weakening state as he took quick blows to the face and neck. Saeros tore the smooth skin to fleshy ribbons. With his knife he ravaged the upper area of Candir's tunic, exposing shoulders slick with gore and sweat.