“They told us our wounds were poisoned as well,” Rúmil replied as he repositioned himself yet again, still favoring his right leg and bandaged right arm.

Haldir looked around as his other brother and comrades nodded in agreement.

“Captain,” Angaril added, “I have been poisoned by orcs six times before, and never did I or anyone else I know suffer as we have now. Why is this time different? Is the poison different? Or is it that our wounds were far more grievous than any others we have received before?”

Shaking his head, Haldir shrugged carefully. “You know as much as I do about this.”

“Did they speak of Beleriand to any of you?” Angaril asked gently rubbing his bandaged head in frustration.

“Careful or you will tear that wound open again,” Ferevellon warned, swatting Angaril’s hand away. “I am surprised they let you come up here after you fell and tore it up so badly the other day or night or…recently.” He paused a moment, his face twisted in confusion. “Have any of you noticed that it is never day when you wake up? I mean…well…yes, I mean it is never day time. I have not seen Anor since I awoke here. Have I completely missed the daylight every single day? I am so baffled by this. I even tried to stay up as long as I could and managed to be awake for three meals in a row without falling asleep and yet...”

“I am so relieved to hear you say that,” Orophin sighed. “I thought I had my days and nights confused and kept sleeping during the day and remaining awake all night.”

The others echoed Orophin’s sentiments then paused looking at each other in confusion.

“The stars turn in the sky and I have seen the same stars pass and return and yet…” Rúmil said.”And, yes, to answer your question, Angaril, they did speak of Beleriand as if it were still here and not under the waves. In fact, every member of my…my host family checked me for a head injury when I told them that Beleriand had been destroyed, sunken beneath the waves by the Powers from Valinor when Morgoth was defeated in the War of Wrath.” Looking thoughtful a moment, he added, “Oddly enough, they…even their chieftain …had never heard of Morgoth nor the War of Wrath nor did they know what war was and they looked scared when I spoke of the Belain. What is going on here?”

After each in turn related similar experiences, they sat long in silence, troubled looks marring their faces. Suddenly Orophin spoke startling all of them.

“Haldir, do you remember hearing Lord Celeborn tell our daeradar and daeradar’s daeradar about the first warriors whom he had met?”

Haldir stared blankly at his brother.

“Oh, of course you do, Haldir! It was when you had – ” Orophin stopped abruptly, his face flushing in embarrassment. “Oh, I guess you would not remember for Lord Celeborn said it just after you marched away on your first patrol.” Clearing his throat unnecessarily, Orophin continued for his now amused expectant audience.

“Lord Celeborn told us about courageous and mighty warriors he knew in the early times of Doriath in the Night before nights. They carried great long bows unlike any weapon ever before seen in Doriath and bore deadly swords. They came from a settlement called Celos Galen. Lord Celeborn also said that by the time that Lord Denethor Lenwion came to Thingol’s aid in battle, Celos Galen was no more and no other settlement had borne the name of Celos Galen since.”

Crossing his arms gingerly (yet convincingly) and fixing his brother with his best annoyed captain stare, Haldir asked, “Exactly what are you suggesting, Orophin?”

Orophin chewed his lip for a moment, then met his brother’s steady gaze. “I think I am suggesting that we should not be in Celos Galen because no place by that name has existed since before Beleriand sank beneath the waves. Think about it, Haldir. You have travelled all over Middle-earth by the command of the Lord and Lady for the gathering of news – even as far away as Mordor when we fought with the Last Alliance. We have met elves from every major settlement in Middle-earth many times. Do you not think that at least once we would have heard tell of a settlement by the name of Celos Galen, especially if it were populated by Galadhrim and had contact with numerous other settlements of Galadhrim, however small those settlements may be? And, more importantly, do you not think that they would have heard of Lothlórien? In fact, when I asked, these folk here had never even heard of Lórien across the sea either!”

Haldir glared at his brother for a time then looked away, uncrossing his arms and reaching for the cup of water before him. Draining the cup, he held it loosely in his long slender fingers, then turned to stare out into the ever-present night. A gentle rain began to fall, the soft patter bringing something else to mind.

“Do any of you remember the storm at Helm’s Deep?” Haldir asked after a time, his voice taking an almost wistful tone. “The sky had been so very full of stars and suddenly a storm came up as if Sauron himself had conjured it to hinder us in battle. Many of those around me, including those who had fought for five or six thousand years, even said as much – that Sauron had conjured the storm like he had so many times at the beginning of battles during the Last Alliance.”

“My adar and five of his edair before him told us tales of the storms of Sauron making strange things happen during the battles in Mordor,” Fereveldir whispered darkly. “Of a sudden, orcs or goblins would appear where none had stood before or elves would see things that were not real as if in a fog or men would suddenly sink into stinking marshes where before they had stood on solid ground. And all of it would happen at a sudden stroke of lightning. I remember the edair said they came to fear the storms more then they dreaded any fell stroke in battle. They also said that one such storm sprang up during the fateful charge that caused the deaths of King Amdir and King Oropher. King Gil-Galad blamed the kings for their deaths for their refusal to listen to him, but our kings’ warriors blamed the storm.”

Haldir’s brothers and Angaril shuddered, obviously wrestling with memories of terrible things, but Haldir closed his eyes shaking his head to clear it. Casting his hard gaze on those around him, they all snapped to. “I saw the Ring the hobbit carried. I felt its evil presence, yet I would have thought that even with the Ring found, it still should have been too far away for Sauron to have conjured that storm. But Sauruman…The Lady did warn me that Sauruman has turned to the darkness and lusts after the Ring himself. He bred orcs with goblin men, creating an enemy which is pretty damn difficult to kill. What other power does a wizard such as he command? Do any of us know? Was he himself not a Maia once?”

Gingerly fingering the bandage over his head wound, Angaril stated, his voice strikingly calm for one proposing such impossible things as truth, “I do not believe that we were poisoned. Our memories are too vivid and too sharply clear. I think that these kind, simple folk who have nurtured and cared for us are missing so many of our words because they simply have never seen warriors or war or the things for making war or the need for such has not yet occurred – for them. I think that we ourselves have not seen Anor because it is not yet here for us to see. My friends, if I have heard aright all that has been said, I believe we really are in Beleriand before the rising of Anor and Ithil. And given the circumstances of our arrival, I know of no way for us to ever go home.”

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Edair – fathers

Adar - father

Anor – the sun

Ithil – the moon

Belain – the Valar

Denethor Lenwion – the Lord of Ossiriand in East Beleriand