I am currently working on two stories. One with The-Hobbit-Fanciers, and one here on my own. I hope you enjoy, good luck, good readin'!

~Hoshiko

Prologue

A figure shrowded in gray rode his horse through the woods of Imladris. Nothing stopped him, or moved in the forest as it would have thousands of years ago. The place was desolate, and nothing seemed alive.

He stopped his horse in front of the buildings, and dismounted. The walls of every building were covered in vines, and some statues were starting to fall apart. It was nothing close to what it had been, in the second age, in the age of it's glory. Elrond had long sense departed, and no one had really kept it up. Statues had been broken and ravaged, being sold as 'Elfish Items' by dark men. They had no respect for the serenity of the place, the water that still gushed from the Bruinen.

Bruinen… it hadn't been called that for many years. No one came, and no one wondered, for there was nothing much to wonder at any more; the place was all but deserted.

The man looked around and shook his head, taking off his cloak's hood. This revealed his features. He was an elderly man, with a long, gray beard, and bushy eyebrows. The eye-bags hinted he was over sixty years old, and indeed he was. He had been in this earth for over three thousand years of men. He climbed the stairs, and walked through the halls, as if looking for something. In due time he found what he was looking for, and knocked on a large mahogany door. No one answered, but he let himself in anyway.

When he opened the door a large hall was revealed to him. Everything was in perfect condition, and a fire was roaring in the hearth. At the end of a long table there was a chair, turned to the window.

'I was wondering when you would come, Brendalin…' a deep voice said, with an accent that hadn't met the old man's ears for years. He couldn't help but crack a smile.

'Relnohen… It has been a long time.' He said, and made his way to the side of the chair where a figure stood next to him. The figure revealed an elf, with light-brown, almost red hair, and vibrant green eyes. In his eyes were great wisdom as such that world hadn't seen in a long time, with an ageless face. He wore robes of the master of Imladris, and a circlet was rapped around his head. He smiled at the sight of the old man and nodded.

'Yes it has, Brendalin. I am sorry to say that Imladris isn't as comfortable as it was years ago, if you are looking for a place to stay.' He said, and Brendalin shook his head.

'No, thank you. I am here on urgent business.' A frown crept up onto Relnohen's face, and he furrowed his brow.

'You are not telling me-?'

'Yes… it has been found.'