Chapter Twenty-Two
Endless Night
Valanandir looked out into the darkness, brooding. He had lost count of how many years had passed since the theft of the Quenya and the blocking of the sun. Enough time had passed for elves to be born never knowing either relic of what had become their people’s past. He sat with his back pressed against an ancient tree, facing eastward. The hills of Vila Eadros were a mere shadow on the horizon.
With the Quenya gone and the land covered by darkness, the elves had quickly become easy prey for the drakhalu. Many had died before he and Iadrawyn had persuaded them to seek the shelter of the wood that had been her childhood home, which they had since named Melatelari. The forest granted them some measure of concealment and protection. They had taken up reside
