I am the last.
The rest have all gone, their fates sealed. Soon mine will be
too.
I feel theirThe old rock was, without a doubt, his favourite place
to sit. From here he could see the whole harbour and observe it
quietly, away from the hustle and bustle. He found it helped him
keep perspective on the world… it was all too easy otherwise
to lose himself in the building of the ships, forgetting why he
was doing it in the first place.
He breathed
deeply, letting the salty sea air fill his senses. There was
no smell he loved more, no place he was as content. He knew
that even if he one day took a white ship to the blessed realm,
he would never stray far from the sea. It was too much a part
of him; it flowed as strongly as blood in his veins.
A rush of
air and a slight scraping noise caught his attention and he
turned towards the source of the sound. There on the rock beside
him was a large seagull, staring at him intently with wise,
dark eyes.
He smiled
at his unexpected companion and lightly stroked the soft feathers
on its neck. “You’re a little early,” he said,
glancing up at the sky. “Feeling restless, my friend?”
The bird
gave a quiet caw, which most would not have understood, but
Círdan had long ago learned the language of the sea birds
and knew that his friend was indeed restless and reluctant to
be alone.
Holding
out his arm, he allowed it to hop up and perch on his shoulder.
It was an exceptionally beautiful specimen, pure white, with
eyes darker than the night and a long, elegant beak. The soft
feathers brushed against his cheek, tickling him and causing
him to chuckle.
This seemed
to amuse the bird and Círdan found his neck the target
of the long tail feathers. Laughing, he tilted his head, gently
brushing the offending tail away.
“Silly
bird,” he said affectionately. “You never change!”
At this the gull lightly nudged him and nipped his ear gently
in a teasing rebuttal, before settling down on the shipwright’s
shoulder comfortably.
The slight
sharpness of the bird’s claws had long since ceased to
bother Círdan and he too settled down, stretching out
his legs and crossing them in front of him, as he thought about
the seabird on his shoulder and how long his friend had been
coming to see him. It had been years, many years.
They soon
fell into a comfortable silence, watching the sky as the sun
slowly set over the harbour, the fading light shimmering and
dancing on the sea below. Círdan did not need to ask
what his friend was thinking, for he knew already. Those thoughts
had not changed once over the long years they’d known
each other and would not change for many more, if ever.
“It
will not be long now,” he said quietly and the bird nodded
once in response.
At last
the sky gave in to night, and the moon and the stars came out,
shining down brightly on the darkened sea. One star though,
shone brighter than all the rest.
Círdan
stood, extending his arm as the bird moved away from his shoulder.
His eyes met the deep black ones and he nodded, reaching to
stroke the soft feathers again with his free hand. “Fear
not, my friend - we will meet again soon and I will carry your
message to your dear ones.”
Another
nod and then great wings spread. With a loud cry she took flight,
powerful wings swiftly carrying her swiftly away from the harbour,
towards the bright light in the sky. Círdan smiled as
he watched her leave, knowing she was content as she could be
for another night.
“Safe
journey, Elwing,” he murmured as he walked back towards
his house. “Come home again soon.”
END
