At the lively birthday banquet, the hobbits looked at Sylas and Gandalf with a mixture of awe, restraint, and curiosity.
Sylas was the quiet center of attention.
Dozens of hobbits tried to peek at him discreetly but failed miserably, every glance was obvious.
Next to the hobbits' short, plump figures, the tall silhouettes of Sylas and Gandalf made them seem like foreign giants wandering into a land of little folk.
Because the Shire bordered Hogwarts territory, and because pipe-weed, mushrooms, beer, and pastries were regularly traded with Bree and Hogsmeade, every hobbit, even the most homebound ones, knew the name of the "Lord of Hogwarts."
And in the sixty years since Sylas first visited the Shire, many who met him back then had long passed away. To the younger generation, he was a myth, the wizard lord who never aged.
Rumor after rumor had spread claiming Bilbo's youthful appearance was also Sylas's doing.
So now, with both legends standing at the banquet, curiosity buzzed through the tent like a swarm of bees.
As the banquet reached its liveliest moment, Bilbo suddenly stood up on his chair.
The music stopped instantly. All eyes turned toward him.
Bilbo looked around at his neighbors, his expression softening for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and raised his voice so all could hear:
"My friends, I know less than half of you as well as I'd like, and like less than half of you better than you deserve! Today is my one-hundred-and-eleventh birthday, and my nephew Frodo's thirty-third.
And on this happy occasion, I must announce… this is the end."
The murmurs started, confused whispers stirring across the tent.
"I am leaving," Bilbo said firmly. "I am leaving the Shire, and now.
As for Bag End and everything I own, Frodo Baggins will inherit it all. Please bear witness."
He paused, smiled a secret little smile…
"Goodbye!"
He slipped a golden ring onto his finger, and vanished.
Gasps erupted from every corner of the banquet tent.
Hobbits screamed, dropped plates, fainted, shouted, or simply froze in place.
But Sylas and Gandalf simply exchanged knowing smiles.
While chaos rippled among the hobbits, Sylas, Gandalf, Elseth, and Elroth quietly stood and slipped out of the tent. No invisibility was required, hobbits were far too distracted.
Only much later did Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin suddenly realize they had lost sight of them.
"We just talked to them! When did they leave?" Pippin shouted.
None of them could answer.
Under the Oak Tree
Halfway up the hill toward Bag End, Sylas and Gandalf stopped beneath a large oak tree.
Both looked at the trunk knowingly.
Gandalf chuckled.
"Bilbo, were you waiting for us here?"
A shimmer distorted the air, and Bilbo removed the ring, appearing at last.
He looked both guilty and amused.
"You two never miss anything, do you?"
Sylas laughed gently.
"That ring was crafted by me. Naturally, you can't hide from its maker. And Gandalf, well, I doubt any invisibility could fool him."
This golden ring was Sylas's creation, a special chained ring designed after the One Ring. It provided invisibility and enhanced the natural stealth of hobbits.
It was a gift Sylas had prepared as Bilbo's new safeguard.
Gandalf waved off the praise.
"Oh, don't flatter me too much. Even Lady Galadriel compliments your craftsmanship, Sylas. I only sensed Bilbo because you nudged me."
Sylas shifted the conversation gently.
"Bilbo, why leave so suddenly? Frodo didn't seem prepared.
Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer?"
Bilbo shook his head firmly.
"No. If I delay even a day, I may lose the nerve. I've lived in the Shire nearly my whole life. Frodo is grown now. Bag End belongs with him."
Seeing his resolve, neither Sylas nor Gandalf tried to argue.
"In that case," Sylas said warmly, "why don't you come with us to Hogwarts tonight? If you tire of it later, you can always move to Rivendell.
Besides, Hogwarts is hosting the Four Houses Championship this year, it would be a shame for you to miss it."
Bilbo's eyes lit up instantly.
"Well then," he said with a grin, "I suppose you'll have to put up with me for a few days."
"We're friends, we're happy you're coming with us," Sylas said warmly.
With their destination decided, the group returned to Bag End. Everyone except Bilbo began preparing the fireplace for the return to Hogwarts.
Bilbo, however, waved Sylas away and insisted on packing his belongings himself.
He folded clothes, sorted papers, and gathered keepsakes with a slow, deliberate care, each object a memory.
Just then, the front door pushed open.
Frodo rushed in, still out of breath from running up the hill.
He froze when he saw Bilbo packing. His heart tightened.
"Uncle Bilbo… are you really leaving?"
Bilbo paused. He turned, eyes softening, and rested a hand on Frodo's shoulder.
"Frodo, my lad… yes. You're grown now. I can leave Bag End in your hands without worry."
He hesitated for a moment, then reached into a chest and drew out a neatly wrapped bundle, and a small leather pouch.
"There is one more inheritance for you. But listen well: do not show this to anyone. Wealth invites greed faster than lightning invites thunder."
He placed the mithril shirt into Frodo's arms.
Frodo sucked in a breath.
"Is… is this real mithril?"
"It is," Bilbo said with a proud grin. "And worth more than the entire Shire."
Frodo stared, speechless.
But when Bilbo handed him the storage pouch and Frodo peeked inside, seeing literal mountains of gold, jewels, and gems glittering back, he staggered backward in shock.
He had always known Bilbo was wealthy, but this…
"The whole Shire couldn't match this…" Frodo whispered.
Bilbo laughed, clearly delighted by Frodo's reaction.
"This is only my one-fourteenth share of the dragon hoard from the Lonely Mountain. Sixty years of my spending hardly made a dent."
Frodo gently shut the pouch and pushed it back toward him.
"This is too much, Uncle Bilbo. You should take it with you! You'll need it for the road."
Bilbo shook his head firmly, eyes twinkling.
"No, Frodo. I've brought enough. More would only slow an old hobbit down. What's left is yours, to spend, save, misplace, or bury. You could squander it for several lifetimes and still not run out."
Frodo's eyes stung slightly, but he nodded and embraced him.
Bilbo patted his back, hiding his own emotion with a smile.
After that, the two worked side by side, Bilbo packing, Frodo helping silently, carefully, as if afraid the moment would slip away too quickly.
Sylas, Gandalf, Elseth, and Elroth sat quietly nearby, giving uncle and nephew the space they needed. They didn't interrupt, only watched with gentle understanding.
...
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