[Daniel Telcontar]

The captain approached Thelian who saluted him, wondering in what errand the commander would approach him. It was something as trivial as patrol duty. "I want you to take a small round in the forests surrounding the camp. The enemy no doubt has scouts and spies." Thelian guessed that it was not a coincidence that he was chosen; his gloom had without doubt been noticed. He said nothing of this though, merely nodded in obediance and walked off. Had this been the old days, it would have been Melost on patrol, and Thelian accompanying him. Yet Thelian had no such companion himself.

As he walked through the Númenorean part of the camp he saw by chance Dorlas, and realised that if he was to have company, it should be the human squire who perhaps knew best how the Elf felt. Approaching him, Thelian saw that he sat and polished his weapon, even though the blade was already spotless. For a moment there was an awkward silence, until Thelian at length spoke: "I have been assigned to guard duty. I was wondering, unless you have other business, if you would join me?" Dorlas looked up, and Thelian could not read the expression in his face; but he rose, sheathed his sword and nodded. "I will go with you."

For a while they walked idly around. Neither of them believed that they would meet enemies so close to the camp. Now and then they talked, or merely enjoyed the nature around them, neither of them focusing much on their task. But suddenly Thelian halted, and kept still. Dorlas did the same, a bewildered look upon his face. "I thought I heard something," Thelian whispered, and then as silently as he could, he drew his sword. He took a step forward, motioning for Dorlas to remain in his position.

Suddenly a figure leapt out of the bushes, and slashed several blows at Thelian. The latter was saved by his reflexes, and parried all of them, before taking a step backwards. He eyed his opponent warily, and then it hit him as if he had been blind and the veil was now removed from his eyes. "Melost?" he whispered with uncertainty in his voice, before almost shouting it: "Melost?"

A tidal wave of feelings flooded Thelian. He had hoped for this so long, yet had not dared to believe it could happen. Yet before his eyes stood Melost, alive and well. Sheathing his sword, Thelian wondered what miracle had made this to pass; and he feared that it was only a blissful dream that had sprung alive before him. Yet it was all to real to be a mere dream. As he gazed into Melost's eyes however, he saw only a blank expression, and he felt a dagger piercing him. "Do you not know me?" He asked, his voice resembling that of a child. Slowly a tear fell, until its brethren joined and they slowly made their way down Thelian's cheeks. Had he not meant more to Melost?

Yet something must have broken through to Melost, for suddenly Thelian felt his hands upon his shoulders, before being embraced. Smiling through his tears, he felt the joy of a lost brother returning, finally daring to believe that this was true. It was Melost standing before him, and he had not forgotten his own kinsman. Thelian felt secure in the belief that no harm could come now, that all the darkness lay behind now. Yet he felt it all become shattered as a voice reached him. The voice belonging to Arthain.