(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Epilogue: On Grey Shores

Some Time Later

The echoing call of a gull pulled me from my thoughts as I took in my surroundings. The salty sea breeze was faint, but comforting somehow. A sentinel called out from a high tower as yet another ship set sail, departing to a land untarnished by the failures of our world. 

The sea-longing had entered my heart some time ago, but I hadn't even thought to answer its call until Glorfindel spoke of it too. Like a tugging at my soul it had slowly become more insistent, beckoning to me until I agreed to journey with him hence. 

Haldir had come as well, along with his wife and daughter. I thought his daughter to be beautiful beyond words, but in a way, her beauty was a reflection of the land she had been raised in; It was a fragile kind of beauty, the like of which is often fleeting and weak. 

Many of the elves had become this way of late; Bound less and less to the land, their love for the trees and green things of Middle Earth had waned until their only desire was to see the land of their forebears. 

My feelings were less clear. I still loved this land, from the twisted roots and primal allure of Mirkwood, now called Eryn Lasgalen, to the ethereal grandeur of Lothlorien... And yes, even to the rugged beauty of the mountain halls of the dwarves. I would miss it all deeply. 

But I could no longer deny my desire to return home. 

Glorfindel, dressed in pure white robes that matched his flowing hair, beckoned to me as he boarded the ship. But I still had one last thing to accomplish before I left this place forever. 

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I owe you an explanation. 

For you have read this fully expecting an ending, as those who read great adventures usually do. But that is something that I simply cannot provide. For, although my part in this tale is coming to an end, the story is nowhere near being over. Middle Earth, you see, is not just a place. It is a being of its own, if you will, with a living, beating heart under its countless forests and snow-capped peaks. The people who live upon it will come and go. Even the Dark Lord himself met an end, did he not? But Middle Earth continues on. 

I was part of the adventure contained within these pages. And you'll know, of course, that I promised (several times if I remember correctly) that I would properly document it, in one form or another. But I fear that all of the words in the world could not properly describe what happened. The bravery that all involved, living or departed, displayed surpasses mere ink on a piece of parchment. But I hope that through my faithful hand, their deeds may be remembered, at least in some small part, by generations to come. 

But enough of my carrying on. I tend to write endlessly when I'm stalling. Perhaps I don't truly want to go. 

But it is too late to turn back now. 

I see the seabirds flying into the West now, and as I watch I feel an irrepressible desire to follow them. I shall leave this book with Cirdan, with strict instructions to deliver it to you undamaged. Perhaps some day you shall follow me, but until then Namarie. 

I remain, 

Edhael Lindimaitar
Companion of Gerithor Lastborn