Rumble rumble.
An unprecedented thunderstorm swept across the royal city of Khand. Raindrops the size of coins poured down in torrents, merging into streams that extinguished the crimson magma, turning it into stone or condensing it into obsidian.
Gale winds swept across the sand and soil, burying the pits and scars on the land.
The terrain in front of Khand's royal city was forever changed. It was no longer just endless sand, but now mixed with obsidian and the smooth round stones typically found around obsidian deposits.
The warrior had left.
But everything left behind served as a reminder to all powers in the East, and even Mordor itself, that he had once been here.
Some wanted to pass on the title Shadow of the East to that warrior, but felt the name too feeble.
And so, he was called, The Shadow of War.
He brought wars in his wake, and with his own hands, ended them.
---
"Are you coming back with us?"
In the wilderness between Khand and the Easterling territories, Garrett asked Alatar.
"Back where? To the lands west of Mordor?"
Alatar shook his head.
"No. They already have enough hands over there. But this side still has many problems to deal with."
He gazed further east and said, "Beyond the Easterling lands lies a vast red mountain range and a wild forest nestled against it. Some dwarves and elves live in that region."
"They haven't yet been corrupted by the shadow brought by the Enemy."
"It's been a long time since I last visited. I should go check on them."
"...Alright."
Garrett didn't say anything more.
After thinking for a moment, he pulled a staff from his pack and handed it to Alatar.
"This is..."
"A staff made from mallorn wood. Not sure if you can use it."
Mallorn wood?
Alatar's eyes lit up. He hadn't looked closely during the battle, but now that Garrett mentioned it, this wood did seem to be of exceptional quality, reminiscent of the White Trees of old.
"Of course I can use it."
He examined the staff, especially its core, and said, "This craftsmanship is quite remarkable. It's not quite as good as my original staff, but it's good enough to channel power."
"You sure? I could take it back." Garrett made a motion to retrieve it.
Giving him a gift and he still complained?
"Of course I want it."
Alatar clutched the staff and hurriedly tucked it into his robe.
Better to have something than nothing.
"The staffs I make might be a bit different from what you're used to. The one you're holding now has an ice core, it can create small ice shards, about the size of pebbles. Pretty handy for cooling off in the summer."
A gust of wind blew past, and both men felt a chill.
Autumn was almost over.
"..."
"Oh, that's fine," Alatar replied. "I can do much more with it. An Istari's power doesn't reside in his staff."
"Good. I hope it serves you well."
"Many thanks."
Alatar gave a slight bow.
"It's time to part ways," Garrett said. "I hope we meet again. Perhaps that will be the time when you can return home."
"Home..."
Alatar sighed, his gaze complicated.
"I hope so."
Then he shifted the topic: "There are many unanswered questions in this war, especially in the South. We've lost contact with Pallando."
Pallando, the other Blue Wizard.
"What happened to him?"
"Ever since he went south, we've had no word..."
"I'm the one who invited him to come here. If something has happened to him, I wouldn't be able to return in good conscience."
"Need help? I don't mind heading south." Garrett offered.
"No. That responsibility is mine."
Alatar shook his head. "We're not as fragile as you might think."
Garrett looked deeply at Alatar and said, "Then I wish you success."
Having listened silently for a long time, Halbarad finally sensed the moment had come. He stepped forward to bid Alatar farewell as well. Alatar smiled and said, "Though our time together was brief, I don't think I'll forget that I once met a Dúnadan who was both brave and skilled in battle."
After speaking, he started rummaging through his sea-blue robe, but after searching for a long time, came up empty. In the end, he could only sigh helplessly.
"I had hoped to give you something as a parting gift, like in the old stories, but unfortunately, I have nothing on me."
"So I can only offer my blessing, may your people be free from curse, and may wind and courage always walk beside us both."
The farewell came to an end. Alatar stood still for a long time, quietly watching the two figures fade into the distance.
Especially the black one.
A flicker of some vision of the future flashed rapidly through his eyes.
"Yes... courage..."
He murmured, "May I have the courage to face it all."
The distant figures gradually faded from view.
The Blue Wizard turned away, a vague sense of loss settling over him.
In a daze, a strong palpitation suddenly surged within him. Dark seeds danced in the shadows, trying to claw their way upward.
Thump!
He jumped and stomped on his own shadow hard, twice, as if scolding a mischievous child.
The shadow quieted down.
The wizard, holding the gift in his hand, walked eastward, accompanied by his shadow.
"I just feel like it's not that simple."
---
In the darkness, Halbarad whispered, "Alatar... he doesn't seem as composed as he pretends to be."
"Oh? Why do you say that?" Garrett replied quietly, not even turning his head.
"Just a gut feeling. He didn't look like someone recovering from illness, nor someone healthy, and definitely not someone suffering from a chronic condition either."
"We should trust him. He can handle it."
Clang.
As they spoke, the ground beneath them trembled slightly, followed by a sensation of imbalance.
The ferry had begun to move.
---
"Did we really have to sneak aboard?"
In the dark cabin, Halbarad muttered a complaint.
"Wasn't the port restriction already lifted? With that elf's approval, we could've used the official passage."
"I didn't want to do this either," Garrett sighed.
"But did you forget what happened a few days ago? When those soldiers recognized me, they turned and walked away without a word. Cold as ice."
"I don't think that was coldness," Halbarad couldn't help but say. "If it were me, I'd run too."
Garrett didn't respond.
---
A few days later, at the easternmost vineyard in Dorwinion, two guests arrived.
"Two people. One looks like a wandering ranger. And the other...?"
When the steward of the vineyard looked at the second person, his hand suddenly trembled.
No... impossible. That's just an Eastern rumor. What does that have to do with Dorwinion?
War has nothing to do with this land of wine.
"Welcome."
When the vineyard's master, the elf Orothir saw Garrett again, a strange feeling of disorientation came over him.
"How long has it been since we last met?" he asked.
"Less than half a year, I think," Garrett replied.
"Half a year? Judging by the rumors flying around, I thought it had been half an Age."
Garrett said, "I didn't expect the news to travel faster than my own feet."
Orothir shook his head.
"Before your arrival, the eastern reaches of Dorwinion were filled with rumors of an invasion by the Easterlings. A shadow loomed overhead, and no one knew when it would come crashing down."
"But now, it's gone. The shadow and rumors that hovered over Dorwinion's borders have vanished, because a new shadow has covered the East. He brought war, then drove it away. Like a shadow himself."
"A shadow... or a shadow of light?"
"Who knows. Let them say whatever they like," Garrett said, unconcerned.
"Exaggerated stories always spread faster, especially when they're true."
"Also—"
Orothir suddenly said, "There's something I must mention. Would you mind checking on the two horses you asked me to care for?"
"They've been giving the stablehands quite a headache."