"Eradan, look out!" I cried, winding up to swing again. But I knew it was too late.
The wraith lunged full force toward Eradan, burying the knife deep into his chest. I screamed out with all my might, swinging at the wraith as I did. My own blade cut into the creature's shoulder, the crunch of flesh and sinew filling the air as it let out a screech that matched mine. Though no blood issued from the wound, I knew I had struck true.
Malbeth withdrew then, pulling the knife blade from my brother's heart as he shrunk back in pain. Eradan's eyes met mine, and a tear fell from them as he collapsed. Aerel used the momentary distraction to strike the wraith in the back, causing him to fall to the ground. He immediately rose to his hands and knees and, like a phantom spider, skittered away into the shadows of the alley he had crept from in the first place.
I barely even noticed him flee as I let my sword clatter to the pave stones and ran to Eradan's side, catching him as he fell.
"No, no, no," I said through tears. "Not you of all people. You weren't supposed to go."
His eyes just barely fluttered open, his face pale as a corpse already. "We all were going to eventually... It was only a matter of time."
"No, not you," I said through gritted teeth, in denial of what was to come. "You were the one who was supposed to make it home."
Eradan put a bloody hand on my chest, as if to comfort me. "Then you go home for me. Tell mother and father I died with honor defending our beloved city."
"You did, brother. You did," I said, letting the tears flow freely, not having the heart to tell him that our family had likely not survived the razing of the Pelennor. "Your memory will live on for generations to come."
"Let not my death be in vain," he gasped, his gaze shifting to something just behind my shoulder. "Let not the city of our ancestors fall. Let it see the dawn once more, and the coming of a King who will unite us. Let it look over a land untainted by darkness, that our people may-" He coughed, and a drop of scarlet blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "May know peace."
Suddenly, as if awakening from a deep sleep, his expression changed, and his pain seemed to subside. "What is this?" He asked, a faint smile forming on his youthful features.
"What?" I asked, looking behind me to attempt to see what had caught his attention. "What is what?"
"The sun..." He whispered, reaching out toward the dark sky. "The sun rises in the depths of night. And look there," he said, pointing to something I could not see. "The fields are full with the growth of spring." His hand lowered slightly, as if he was touching something beside me. "I walk now in fields of green, where the Enemy can never find me," he said, his voice barely audible as his eyelids grew heavy over milky eyes. "I can feel the grass growing tall on the roadside, and I can hear the laughter of children as I draw near to home. Come with me, Turin," he said, taking my hand in his. It was cold to the touch, and as pale as newly fallen snow. "Follow me to paradise."
With those last words, the last of his life left him, his eyes fixed on that place of beauty that only he saw.
I let out a cry of anguish, feeling sick with grief as I watched him die. My brother, the one who had been with me since I was a little boy, had left the world of the living. The little brother who I thought would long outlive me. The little brother who I tried so hard to protect for my entire life... The little brother I had failed.
I gently closed his eyes as I let the tears fall freely, his frigid hand still in mine. Aerel came to my side, tears of her own dampening her face as she put a comforting arm around me. We lingered there a moment longer, and at that moment I did not care if Orcs came upon us and slew us where we stood.
After a moment longer, Aerel gently shook me. "We must go. The wraith will have surely sent soldiers after us."
I slowly looked up, returning to reality. "You're right," I replied. "But he deserves a proper burial."
"There's nowhere to bury him in the city," Aerel said sadly. "Perhaps we should lay him to rest in one of the homes and return later."
I looked around, hoping there would be some better solution. That's when my eyes landed upon a small rowboat lodged up against the corner of the bridge, untethered but stuck there by the current. "He shall go to the sea, where he can rest in peace," I said, nodding toward the boat.
Aerel ran over to it, checking it quickly to make sure it was still seaworthy. "It will do."
And so we laid him to rest, his sword in hand and his cloak laid out beneath him like a blanket. I planted a soft kiss upon his forehead, and after whispering a few final words to usher him into the next life, I pushed the boat off, watching as the current caught it and it began its slow journey to the sea.
"Be at peace, soldier of Gondor," I said, reciting the funeral rites I had given many times already as an officer of the Tower. But now, when speaking of my own flesh and blood, the words suddenly felt real to me. "Your watch has ended, and your fealty honored." Aerel joined in, our voices one as Eradan sailed away. "As you have brought honor to the White Tree, so we honor you, that you may be welcomed into the halls of our ancestors as one of their own."
The boat slowly bobbed upon the current, traveling away and under a nearby bridge. It reappeared a moment later on the far side, and I could see Eradan's face clearly still. It looked peaceful, as if a great weight had finally been lifted from him.
As I continued to walk, I heard the crunch of gravel behind us, and I spun around. There, at the opposite end of the bridge, stood an Easterling. Less than ten meters separated us from our foe. Though the smoke of battle obscured all else around us, he was so close that I could see him clearly. He was clad from head to foot in the bronze armor of Rhûn with a wicked halberd in one hand, a scarablike shield in the other. He was slender, but the scaly shoulder plates he wore gave him a menacing outline. His eyes, the only part of his face that was visible, were rimmed with coal-black war paint, making him appear fierce and frenzied.
And yet, despite his utterly alien appearance, I was somehow able to see past it all. As if I had pulled back a curtain, what I saw before me was a reflection of myself. A soldier. Why he had come all this way, I still did not know. Had he been offered gold to provide for his family? Had he been fed lies about the cruelty of my people, and had willingly come here with patriotic zeal? Was he evil, a man who worshiped the Dark Lord as many said of his people?
In this moment, it did not matter.
He stopped then, looking out at the boat that drifted further and further away. After a moment, he took a hesitant step toward us, glancing back and forth between us as he pointed his weapon at us. Part of me wanted to attack. The part that had lost my brother, my comrades, everyone I had known and loved. But the other part of me was weary. I had killed enough.
And so, despite everything in me screaming against it, I chose peace.
I slowly sheathed my sword, indicating for Aerel to do the same and outstretching my hand in a gesture of good will. "Enough blood has been spilled today," I said gently, hoping he would understand.
And there, in the midst of the biggest battle of this Age of Men, an impossible truce was made. The Easterling slowly lowered his blade, mirroring my gesture. When his eyes landed once more upon me I no longer saw fierceness; instead I could see the same weariness in them, the same sorrow that no doubt reflected in mine. Though no words were exchanged, the pain in his eyes told a far more poignant tale than speaking could. He too had endured loss on this battlefield. He too only wanted to go home and see peace again.
But we were soldiers, and peace was fleeting.
He motioned to the boat that was quickly disappearing on the horizon, pointing to himself at the same time. "Azha. Vir Azha."
Though his words were as foreign as the runes that inlaid his shield, I could feel the pain in them. He too had lost someone close.
He took several steps closer, stopping just short of us and leaning against the rampart of the bridge, letting out a tired sigh as he watched the boat sail out of sight. We all watched a moment longer, no words being spoken but a mutual understanding brought us together for that short point in time.
When Eradan had finally disappeared altogether, the Easterling gave a slight nod, and I felt chills go down my spine as he disappeared back into the smoky haze from which he had come.
I could hear Aerel let out a sigh of relief. "That was close."
Shaking my head, I continued on in the way we had been going before the encounter. "He had no desire to do us harm. It seems as if we are all ready for this war to end."
=================
We stopped at the western outskirts of Osgiliath, where we found a small culvert to shelter in for an hour or two of uneasy rest. It was not yet dark, and I knew that if we were to stand a chance of making it across the Pelennor we would have to use the cover of night to our advantage.
This will be my last entry in this journal until we arrive safely in the White City. If Eru smiles upon us, it shall still be standing when we arrive.