What seem to be ages ago, my wife, my passion, my path was taken away from me, by the cursed edain southerners daring to cross the Belegaer Ocean. In their captivity, she had to experience cruelty I will not describe in this chronicle. The results of these horrible and unforgivable actions, was a new born, not meant to be, not meant to exist. A cruel mockery of our eldar nature, but yet innocent of his own birth into this fading world. My own son Orelioon and his war band found him and my love, which was dying, when they dealt the edain southerners the eldar revenge for their cruel actions.
With my love’s dying breath, she begged my son, to take care of the infant and raise him among our own. A request my son would not turn down, but which I did in the end.
The history of old, tells us about such offspring’s before, offspring’s which are a result of love, but never of cruelty. These offspring could choose their own path, like noble Lord Elrond, which choose to be among the eldar, while his brother chose the gift of man. But for this infant, the path was already chosen, by the gods it seems. Even if he seems to have many elven attributes, he still has the looks of an edain and the gifts of man flows in him.
I do not care too much about him, since he is a constant reminder of my wife and her leaving this world only to rest in the halls of Mandos. Where I have ignored him, my own son has given him much of his attention, treating him as his own brother, training him in our ways. During the years from infancy to adult, I have watched him grow strong and wise for an edain, but struggling to master the path of his life. He resents that he is an edain, and secretly crave to become one of our noble race. The last time I spoke to him, he had decided to leave the grey heaven and wander among the ruins of old, among other eldar and edain, to find his own path and master it, before the gift of man finally claim's him…
