Belfalas Memories: Edhellond

Ah, Edhellond…

This grove of memorials overlooks Dol Amroth city, commanding a breathtaking view of Cobas Haven’s shining white coast. Beyond, even unto the limits of my sight, stretch the rolling green hills of Anfalas; the ramparts of the Ered Nimrais are a silver flash upon the horizon. A vista to behold from this great height, yet I turn ever to the stately ships foraying upon the blue waves, and my gaze follows their wakes to the glistening white haven nestled at the estuary where Morthond and Ringló meet Belegaer. As Mithlond in the north Edhellond is in the south, a haven for exiles from the drowned lands. I sailed to its ports often in the Second Age, but seldom stepped forth from its walls into the wild lands beyond. Now it stands as a bastion of fading Elvendom amidst the realm of Men.

Ah, Edhellond… haven of the Quendi…

I look upon you with love, O Edhellond. Established in days of the First Age ere the fall of Beleriand, you stand as a living memory of the realm of my youth. Eglarest and Brithombar, jewels of the Falas, are no more – but you remained, and you have endured the long-years. Always, I feel the lingering spirit of the Elder days when I am within your walls. Ah, should Beleriand rise again from the deeps! But such hope is vain, and not until the end of Ages shall these sundered realms rise again.

Ah, Edhellond… you are ancient beyond the lifespans of Men…

Shall it withstand the march of time? Day by day the Mariner-Elves depart, sailing their caravels to Mithlond ere embarking on that final journey westward. Day by day the Secondborn grow in strength in that fair city, until Edhellond shall be but in name. Will the sons of Men still hear lovely music played upon its street-corners and minarets, or discern laughter amidst the cobbled plazas? Perhaps they shall, for some will tarry unwilling to leave the shore of their births. But I do not think so.

Should I stand upon this hilltop in a long-year’s time, I shall only see a city of marble and damask shining in the sun, beautiful even as it fades; filled only with echoes of song, for naught shall be played there again; a tender memory of past days – but only a memory.

Ah, Edhellond… shall you lie abandoned in eternal slumber, never to wake again, when the last fairy ship departs?

(written 01 May, 2005.)