Lindon

Bare feet fly quietly through the shallow water, barely a splash made with each step. A sharp cry of a gull calls out its loneliness from the sky above, and then an answering call from the one striding across the shallow tide. The wild winds of the sea are quiet this day, only occasionally making its presence known to those upon the beach.

After the First Age, many elves were left stranded and aimless. Beleriand had sunk beneath the sea, and much was lost. There were two options it seemed. One, sail back to Valinor. After everything that had happened, all the wrongs committed on both sides of the sea, slink back into the shadow of the Valar.

The sunlight streamed through the windows. Outside, wind blew the cherry trees in a graceful fashion, and the long grasses danced in the breeze. Inside, the teenager looked away from the windows. The lavish walls, blue and decorated in elegant swirls and flower art, felt cold compared to the world outside. Melestheliel held a book in her hand. In the dark oak chair she sat in, she looked down to the book.

Late spring, Forlindon, a year ago

Somewhere out there, an owl cried.

Hoot hoot

Earcalie snorted, sat alone on the porch of her house, trying to understand from where the cry was coming. The porch was almost all in the shadow, lit only by the flickering light of a lantern hanged onto a beam, already on the way to extinguish by itself. The elleth didn’t care if it was extinguishing.

Early summer, present days, Imladris