I looked upon the stranger as if he came out of a vision, a dream, an omen. In the quiet of the forest, where all the noises are familiar to me, there was one I could not recognize. I hid behind a tree, alert and afraid and I waited. I kept my gaze on a patch of darkness in front of me, my eyes used to see through the faint light of rānā and the stars. I held my breath as the darkness slowly receded and a halo made its way towards me.
I stared as the halo took shape into the form of a person, a mortal, I thought at first. But no mortal that I had seen was permeated of light like this one. Then, as the figure came nearer and nearer, I saw its face and I gasped in awe. It mattered not how many years I had spent training to hide from ferocious animals and untrustworthy Men, how many times my father told me to stay hidden in the forest, I could not tear my eyes away from this apparition... and when he locked his eyes with mine, I froze.
I had never seen eyes like that, as grey as rainclouds and yet so luminous as if they were the source of the light, as if it came from within, and his face white as pearl and his hair like spun silver... even his tunic was white, woven with what looked like silk threads and his boots tied with gossamer laces.
I bowed my head low, thinking he was one of those Powers the elders mentioned in our myths. I know not what have I ever done to warrant a visit from them, have I wronged in some way? Was he here to punish me?
But then he laughed. A crystalline sound in which I felt no malice. And he spoke.
“Na vedui! Êl síla erin lû e-govaded ‘wîn, edhel”. I lifted my gaze and saw he was smiling. I did not understood what he said, although something about the sound of the words and the intention made me think it must be a formal greeting of some sort. He must have guessed my confusion
“Pedigh edhellen?” I shook my head and he repeated the first words, pointing at the starry sky that peeked through the treetops, then at himself and me. “Ni edhel. Quende”. Quende. That word I knew. So he was not one of the Powers in disguise, but an elf. Just an elf like me, but one of a kind I never saw before. Again he repeated the greeting, through gestures and repetition I slowly began to understand him: he came from far away on a journey to find a friend that he lost long ago.
Now, I knew that there were Quendi who in the distant past travelled with the Powers to a Land of Blessings, but never in my wildest dreams I would have dreamt to meet one! If my father were to see me awestruck he would pull me away by the ear, but I could not tear myself away. I tried to tell him that I never saw nor heard of anyone who looked like him in the forest, nor in the mannish settlements. He seemed to catch onto the meaning of my language faster than I his, and at last, with a sigh he bid me farewell.
I asked if he would visit again. Something in his words stirred my heart. I had so many questions, I wanted to know so much. But the stars were fading and anār rising, he left.
I was overjoyed to find him in the same clearing a few days later. He told me that he did not find his friend yet, that he wanted to journey even farther but would also like to spend some time with me, and learn of my people for he in turn never saw someone like me. We talked a lot, that evening and many more under the starlight. He taught me his language that he called sindarin. He did not come from the Land of Blessing, but a coastal region called Lindon were many like him still dwelt. He told me his people, the Sindar were taking ships to forever dwell in the Land of Blessing. I thought it was sad that they were leaving and he in turn that it was sad my people (which he called Stayers for I warned him the term “avar” was seen as unkind) decided to stay and fade with the forest. He told me of great stories of heroes and wars, I of our myths and legends. The more he talked the more I wished I could live those adventures myself. See stars that could not be seen in my sky. See other Quendi.
He truly left one day, to resume searching for his friend. I kept on performing my forest warding duties but the more years passed the less I was content. Unfortunately the meeting with the Sinda stoked my wanderlust, so one night under starlight I bade farewell to my Cuind tribe. I suspect they knew for a while. They could feel my restlessness being at odds with the ways of the tribe. Maybe I would see the Sinda again in his homeland. I would see many more places and meet many more people, tell tales of my own when I shall return to my people.
I gave myself a name in sindarin: Gwachenir. It felt appropriate. That night under the starlight, my own journey started.
