Day 7 - Free Day
Zîranû huffed out a sigh of boredom. He had entered Ost-in-Edhil with his clan; his descendant, Rahatzagar, leading him by the hand. Unfortunately, the boy had gotten distracted, no doubt by the tall buildings and strange people, and they had been separated.
Now Zîranû was lost, blind, and alone in a foreign city full of elves. He didn’t trust elves, no one he knew did, but he was beginning to think he may need to ask one for help.
Just as he was beginning to consider calling out for help, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you in need of assistance, iphandîr?” The voice was that of a man, a young one if Zîranû were to guess, and kind as sunlight on a breezy summer day.
“I do,” Zîranû admitted. “My guide seems to have become distracted and I am afraid I am quite lost.”
The man chuckled and helped him up. “Yes, the city is vast. To where were you going? Perhaps I can lead you the rest of the way?“ There was no hint of the malice or mean-spirited trickery that Zîranû had half expected to hear in the man’s voice. Instead, there was only an earnest desire to be of assistance.
"The marketplace,” Zîranû said. “I am sure you have heard that my people have come to sell our luminous wool?”
“I have!” The man laughed brightly. “Come, the market is not far. My name is Elrond, by the way.”
Elrond handed Zîranû his walking stick, which had been leaned up against the wall beside him, and led him into the streets. “I am Zîranû, and I thank you for your help. I sat there for quite some time and I do not think anyone noticed I was there.” He did not mention that he had wished to avoid notice, but it was strange to him that no one had even acknowledged him.
A hum drew him from his thoughts. “It is likely they did notice,” Elrond said. “Elves do not experience old age, so they may have thought that you were simply resting.”
“They? Are you yourself not an elf?” He certainly spoke like one. But, Zîranû supposed, Ost-in-Edhil was a great city. Perhaps Men lived here. Elrond was certainly too tall to be a dwarf.
Elrond was silent for a moment. “No. No, I am peredhel.”
“Oh!” A grin split across Zîranû’s face. “Which clan are you from? I do not believe we have met before and I am sure I’ve never heard your name.”
“I… do not belong to any particular clan.” Well that was certainly interesting. Most peredhel babies born outside a clan were abandoned by their mothers or killed by the fearful ignorance of those around them. But then, those children were usually born the bastards of mannish mothers. Zîranû had never heard of a child with an elvish mother and a mannish father. Who could say how such a situation would play out.
“As the herald of High King Gil-Galad,” Elrond continued. “I live among the elves as one of them.”
“Ah, well that sounds like a nice job, young man.” Zîranû had no idea what a herald actually did, but if he worked under the king it was probably a decent position at least.
Elrond laughed. “It is, though I am certainly not a young man. I have lived many more centuries than you yourself in all likelihood.”
“That may be!” Zîranû countered. “But I would guess that I have lived more life. I have loved, lost, and loved again. I have watched my children grow up and have children of their own, and their children after that, and their children after that! I shouted to the sky and demanded the stars tell me my place in the world. When I had seen all I wished to see of this world, I chose to grow old and pass on to the next.”
Elrond was silent for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “My brother said much the same before he… departed. I did not understand his words at all then, but I think I have grown to understand their meaning now.”
Zîranû was about to offer his condolences when they were interrupted by the shrill voice of a boy. “Eithweg! There you are! I’ve been looking, but I could not find you and I’m so sorry I left you alone! I promise I did not mean to! It was just- there were so many people and buildings and I-”
“Peace, Rahatzagar. I am well. I even made a new friend!”
