The Legend of Saironelloistya [COMPLETED]

Epilogue

As I sat down at a table, in Aranellevanima, and I's office, I thought back on the words of Martamo, in which she told me to chronicle all that had happened in my travels. I wondered where everyone who had been a part of it was now...

Martamo stood before her superior, Illuvitar, and begged him to right something she though was a wrong. "Illuvitar, you are a creator! You can recreate Nimloth's soul! I am begging you to do this, for my sake. I have served you for thousands of years, and I have never requested anything! Please, Illuvitar, do this for me." Illuvitar looked into Martamo's heart, and recognized her desire.

"So it shall be," he said, "She will go to The Halls of Mandos. Be at peace" He turned, and Martamo walked out of his realm, finally at peace...

As I thought, I privately mourned the loss of Nimloth, who would never be reborn. She sacrificed herself​ for me, so I would live for her...

Saironellotoron sat next to Nardil, Laureaferedir, and Toqohinmunta, in the Halls of Mandos, listening to the sorrow of Nienna, before he stood up, and walked over to her, taking her hands in his. He said, "Nienna, weep no more, for the Land of Men and Elves is under the rule of a kind, wise, merciful, and just leader. His name is Saironelloistya, Leheruellomeneltarma, and he will save lives, as often as he can spare them."

She smiled, and behind them, cries of "Prosperity to the king," rang throughout the Halls of Mandos, as an enchantress entered the domain...

I looked at the blank sheets of paper in front of me, and I thought of those lost in the war. I carefully considered the loss of Generals Laureaferedir, Nardil, the loss of Councillor Toqohinmunta, and the loss of my dear friend, Saironellotoron...

Former Councillors Herulepilin, and Herievamornie sat at the table in Herulepilin's room, discussing what they would do with their lives, now that they were no longer Councillors.

Herulepilin stated, "I always wanted to be a farmer, but my master, Padredeltodos, raised me for politics. I suppose, now that I am free of running the Government, I can settle down and do that."

Herievamornie smiled, and asked, "You would leave it all behind? All of the power, all of the connections, all of your friends, just to become a lonely farmer? It seems a bit..." She paused, as if searching for a word, before continuing, "... Unprecedented."

Herulepilin laughed, and replied, "I would happily abandon all of the power, and connections, but I will not abandon my friends. And besides, who said anything about being alone?" He leaned in, as though to whisper something in Herievamornie's ear...

I thought of the Council, which had ruled for thousands of years, now cast down, but not in disgrace. The history behind the council, was what motivated me to begin writing.

I realized quickly though that I knew not where to start...

Aranellevanima walked through the Halls, determination in her gait, but also a slight bounce, from her good mood. She had just talked to the ghost of Saironellotoron, who told her of the recreation of Nimloth's soul. As soon as she finished the conversation, she immediately began to return to her office, to inform the Leader of Meneltarma...

I thought back on Martamo's words in the forest, about how she said the story was not about me, but that it was merely a story revolving around me.

I picked up my ink tube, and began to write. I wrote,

As an immortal elf, I find that time passes quickly in comparison to how it appears to pass to other races of this world. Yet, as quickly as it may seem to pass, it is easy for me to remember every moment of it...

Aranellevanima quickly appeared, and informed me of the news, that Nimloth was redeemed, and sent to Mandos. I jumped for joy, and squeezed Aranellevanima into a bear hug, which caused her to grin as she struggled to free herself of my grasp. I released her, and she said, "I'll let you get back to the Chronicles, Saironelloistya." I went to object, but she was already through the door, so I sat down to continue​ recording. I this time, knew exactly what to write, and proceeded to do so.

The reason for this would be that I am a wizard, or a magic user if you will, and 413 years ago, I created the Amulet of Lúmë ar Parma...

I looked at what I had written, and continued, vowing not to stop until I completed the story.

. . .

I concluded the story with: 

I looked around the room, at all the smiling faces of my friends, and next to them, I saw, in my mind's eye, the ghosts of Nardil, Laureaferedir, and Saironellotoron, and in my heart, I felt Nimloth. I considered all of this, truly at peace, before with a smile, and a laugh, I replied, "No, everything is perfect."

Aranellevanima walked in an hour later, and noticed that I had finished the story. She said; "I suspect you still have some revisions to do? How are you doing, Saironelloistya?" The concern on her face showed her genuine emotion, but I smiled.

"I am fine, and the same goes with the story. Everything is perfect, mi mellonarmela." She smiled, and together, we walked out, into the morning sun, at 6:25 WTT

. . .

An Hour or two later, Aranellevanima walked back into the office, and looked at the Story on my desk, the title of which read: The Chronicles. Aranellevanima smiled, and then looked around to ensure that I wasn't in the office. She quickly grabbed an ink tube, and wrote on the front cover. The Front cover now read: The Chronicles of Saironelloistya.

Thus ends this tale, full of sadness, love, hope, and joy,

read for entertainment, I hope you enjoy

For this story has now, at last, come to the end,

and now unto my readers, it I must send