Excerpt: Begotten of Dusk and Dawn

“The night will be upon us soon.”

“As will the sea, I can smell it in the air,” Elrond Half-Elven replied to his brother Elros as they quietly rode together.

“The outer edges of the delta are just beyond this rise,” Maedhros said softly, but in his determined tone. “We will reach it by twilight.”

“From there we shall leave you and go no further,” Maglor added after his brother had finished. “There will be a ferry that can take you to the island whereupon you will have to ask to see Cirdan the Shipwright and High-King Ereinion Gil-Galad. They shall take you as their charges until you are of majority.”

Elrond watched the two older elves riding in front of him and his brother. The brothers had not spoken much since their departure from the forests of Arvernian. The night of the first sighting of the new star had brought about many changes. Looking high into the sky, Elrond and Elros had stared with keen curiosity and wonder at the strange appearance while the two surviving Sons of Fëanor had contemplated the rising sign with a deeper concern. The next day, Maglor and Maedhros announced their decision to return the twin brothers to the Mouth of Sirion where they had once dwelt as young children. Now, a few months since the rising, they were doing just that.

“Do you think any will know our faces?” Elros asked, his hand absentmindedly stroking the bristled hairs of his horse’s neck.

“It has been many years since our sire’s people laid eyes on us,” Elrond pondered.

“I think they will know well enough,” Maglor answered.

Elrond caught the sharp glance of Elros stealing at him for a moment before turning straight ahead again. They did not understand what had changed the demeanors of their fosterers so suddenly, but they had known for a long time that an agonizing secret edged constantly at the back of the Noldor brothers’ minds and the event of the new star was related to it.

The memories of their parents and their early years were vague, but returned in moments of strong clarity once in a while. It had been seven years since the day Elrond and Elros had wandered away from their nurse who had whisked them away from their home very suddenly. Afterwards, the life they knew was one of nomadic travels and temporary encampments around Western Beleriand. Questions of their former lives were met with unclear information and promises to explain all to them at a later date.

Finally coming around the last hillside, the four beheld Anur slipping below the horizon in the west, setting the sky and sea with tendrils of fire and golden light. The unending horizon of ocean waves spanned out before them to their right and the flat marshlands of the delta welcomed the travelers to the first stop of their journey. The Isle of Balar further off the coast in the bay stood like a sentinel, tall against the darkening sky and disappearing light.

“There will be a small house and pier by the sea-edge where you will find passage,” Maedhros said and pointed to a small cluster of buildings.

“This should be enough for the ferry payment and to buy a few items for yourselves once you reach the city,” Maglor handed a leather pouch to Elrond and another to Elros. “Also, bear this if any should challenge your kinship claim; however, I doubt many will do so.”

The older elf pressed into Elros’ hand a golden signet ring that the youngster scrutinized in the dusk.

“That is yours, though,” Elrond exclaimed looking to Maedhros then back to Maglor.

“Given to me by my sire upon his death, it is the same ring he inherited from our grandsire when he had been slain,” Maedhros explained. “You are of the House of Finwë, too, young masters. We are cousins to your granddame and to Ereinion, he will know what it means when you come before him.”

“Why can you not come with us?” Elros frowned.

“We … would not be welcome,” Maglor said simply.

A stern glance from the redheaded elf silenced any further queries from the twins as to why that would be so. The quiet that had been present on their entire ride returned, but this time it was an awkward stillness, the only sounds were of the distant roar of the waves and the loud breathing of the horses. The softening of Maglor and Maedhros’ features helped Elrond finally get up the courage to ask his last question.

“Will we see you again?”

“I do not know,” Maedhros finally, no deception in his words at answering the most important of the unsaid questions that he knew was on the minds of his brother’s fosterlings.

“We hope we do,” Elrond replied.

“Only the Valar know for certain,” Maglor said. “Blessed be your days henceforth.”

Reaching towards the twins, he squeezed each of their shoulders reassuringly. Maglor knew they needed to go back to where they belonged. Being of the Peredhil, they aged quicker than those of Elf-kind and had matured beyond any elf-child of similar years. In his heart Maglor knew they would never forget them either. They would try to be strong for him, but would not ignore the intimate bonds they had developed.

With one last glance, Maglor turned his back and urged his horse back to the northeast. Maedhros, with a short nod to Elrond and Elros, followed his brother. As the hoof beats became more distant with every passing minute, the twins suddenly realized how alone they were.