[Envinyatar]

‘What fell wind is this that brings such a chill and leaves a lingering despair?’ Orëmir considered Lindir with a deep concern. Deny as he might that he was ill, Lindir gave off the impression of one caught deeply in some old web. And one of his own making for the most part, Orëmir thought to himself. His friend’s eyes looked far off on some old scene and by his words it was not one he looked on gladly.

Brother! . . .

And now the urgent calling of his brother reached out for him, trailing off into an untypical confusion. In a few, quick strides he was at Endamir’s side, his hand coming up to rest against his brother’s cheek. Endamir’s eyes were unfocused, his gaze turned inward, so it seemed. You’re distressed; I can feel it. Tell me . . . what weighs so heavily on you? A tangle of thoughts came tumbling out. Unsure, rambling thoughts crafted with a sort of fearful, twisted logic.

‘Is it some malicious will sets itself against us?’ Endamir murmured as he sorted through his brother’s meanderings. ‘First Lindir and now Endamir have their minds set on some dark path!’ Orëmir looked furtively about, expecting to find something, he knew not what, that would explain this puzzle. There was nothing he could ferret out.

He drew his brother down, sitting close to him, an arm around Orëmir’s shoulders. He had no other medicine than that of his own supportive presence. No compound, no draught to drive out the undercurrent of fear and uncertainty that washed against him. He spoke reassuringly to his brother as the stream of conflicted thoughts ran on.

And one eye he kept fixed on Lindir who sat still where he had left him; his gaze far away, his hand moving idly over his pack as if to reassure himself it was still there . . .