I must choose.
Seven days passed since I reached the borders, the last outpost of Endor. Seven days passed wandering, hesitating on the wharfs, among white ships and seagulls.
Lindon, the Grey Harbours. Since I left Bree, that clear morning, I travelled without programs or destinations. I crossed fields, woods, towns, known places and forgotten corners, and at the end I came here. Was the fate what brought me to this place? Or, my own will? I can't say.
My kin here is kind, there's a room for every traveller, especially for those who wait before their last travel. Am I one of them?
In front of me, sea, and over it, over the borders, Aman. Behind me, the Middle Earth, the past. Oh, how sweet and strong is the call of the sea... I saw them in my dreams, Taniquetil, the High White Peak, the plains of Vanimar, the Shadowy Sea... all them emerging from the fog of this world. And I would find there so much... people, memories.
But still, the idea of leaving this mortal world forever curbs my dreams. After all, I saw nothing but a part of this Middle Earth, and I lived too little, in comparison to the major part of the other Eldar.
I left Bree and my “job” with a deep instance: looking for myself. And I reached Lindon. What's the meaning of this riddle? Maybe the most obvious one: myself is on the shore of the sea, where I would find many of the things, and moreover, of the people I lost. But is this really what I want now? This question haunt me since I bring my tired body to a rest in the peace of this bay.
But now I must choose. I know, I know I told Nightcrawler he would have seen me again, but... too many things happened since my sword killed that mad man. A mad man! I know, a dangerous one, but still arresting him – and moreover, psychologically torturing him – wasn't part of my duty. No, it wasn't, because there weren't proofs about his relation with the Enemy. And probably he was really nothing but a poor mad man! I only hope my deeds will be of any use, one day. But my job as Ambassador died with the mad. I don't know what Elrond thought, after my last letter... probably the disappointment was great... who knows if the kind Elves of Imladris would still host their – stupid, vile – brother. Yes, I had the luck to survive battles, wars, I fought with honor.. I proudly thought about myself as a hero, one of the Protector of the Free Peoples. And maybe I really was this. But the last act showed to the world another Nanthon. Who is the real one? Where could I find him? The same questions, again.
But maybe this evening, I will find an answer. There's a beatiful sunset, this evening. The sun is going West... but he was born in the East.
