"What do you think of the Elves? Or rather, what do you think of this world?"
When Kaen heard the question, countless thoughts rushed through his mind, yet when he opened his mouth, only one sentence came forth.
"The Elves are wonderful. The world is beautiful. And from time immemorial, it is because of you—and the countless Free Folk who came before us, who gave their lives to resist the darkness—that we who come after are blessed with boundless courage."
Upon hearing Kaen's words, Glorfindel's face softened, and he smiled—serene and radiant, like sunlight on a still lake.
"Child, I do not see myself as a hero, though others may view me so."
"I am but a warrior, one who fought for the freedom of our kind, and for the light that dwells in the West."
"I sense your love for this world… a love that knows no bounds of race or bloodline. It burns bright and true. I hope you will never let it fade."
In the dawning light, Glorfindel's form grew ethereal, like mist dispersing under the rising sun. When Kaen turned around again, the Elf-lord had vanished without a trace.
Upon the stone bridge, one thing remained.
A single crest lay there, silent and waiting.
"Child," came Glorfindel's parting voice, lingering in Kaen's ears, "the world fears the darkness, yet does not understand… it is the crucible of courage, loyalty, and heroism. A forge often lit with flame, pain, and death…"
"If the day comes when you are beset by a foe beyond reckoning—grasp that crest, speak my name aloud."
"No matter where you are, I shall come to your aid… and deliver you from fire."
Kaen stood in silence, his hand reaching out. He picked up the crest.
Etched upon its golden surface was a radiant sun, its rays blazing outwards. Encircling it bloomed the white elanor—flower of the sun.
It was the sigil of the House of the Golden Flower—one of the Twelve Great Houses of Gondolin.
With this, Glorfindel had acknowledged him. A token of honor. A bond of friendship.
Kaen's heart surged with emotion. Holding this sigil was no less than wielding a legendary weapon.
A… Glorfindel Summoning Talisman?
He stood there for a long time, lost in thought, until the morning dew had all but vanished from the leaves.
"Kaen."
The voice of Lord Elrond called out. Kaen turned to see his teacher approaching with a puzzled expression.
"The attendants said you didn't return all night. I've been looking for you since dawn. I didn't expect to find you here."
"I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to worry you," Kaen said with an apologetic smile. "I met Lord Glorfindel here… he left me this."
Elrond's eyes fell upon the crest—and widened in shock.
"Oh, Valar…"
The Lord of Rivendell's expression was a mix of astonishment and joy. He said, "He rarely speaks to anyone, let alone leaves such a gift. I know not what you two discussed last night, Kaen, but you must treasure this sigil. It may save your life one day."
Kaen nodded solemnly. "I will, Master. I promise."
The Dwarven expedition was set to depart the next day, so Kaen was to stay in Rivendell one more day. Seizing the rare opportunity, Lord Elrond personally instructed him.
From elven magic to ancient runes, from the lore of kings to the paths of wisdom—Kaen absorbed it all like dry earth drinking rain. The lessons of that day left a deep mark upon him.
Elrond, too, was pleased. Kaen's grasp of knowledge was exceptional—his talent could rival that of the greatest lore-masters.
One taught with passion, the other learned with hunger.
Only when the stars rose did their study finally end.
"To have you as my pupil is truly an honor," Elrond said, with a rare smile.
Kaen, a little embarrassed, replied earnestly, "To be your pupil is the greatest honor of mine."
Then Elrond asked, with a glint in his eye, "Would you be interested in attending a council meeting?"
Kaen blinked in surprise. "What kind of meeting?"
"A rather… enjoyable one," Elrond said, his voice tinged with amusement. "One where we get to give the Grey Wizard Gandalf a bit of a hard time."
The White Council.
An assembly of the greatest powers in Middle-earth.
Formed by Saruman the White, Gandalf the Grey, Galadriel the Lady of Lórien, Elrond of Rivendell, and Círdan the Shipwright, the Council met sporadically to watch the shadows and counter the growing threat of Sauron.
In the original tale, Gandalf had already uncovered that the Dark Lord Sauron had taken root in Dol Guldur. He had urged the Council to act—to muster strength and strike.
But his proposal was rejected by none other than Saruman the White, the council's appointed head. Saruman, in his pride, claimed the One Ring had long since been lost to the sea.
Yet beneath his refusal lay jealousy. Though Gandalf's power and knowledge were inferior, he held far more respect among the peoples of Middle-earth.
So, seizing upon the excuse of Gandalf aiding Thorin's company of Dwarves, Saruman convened the Council to challenge him—to undermine him.
At this time, Saruman had begun to obsess over power and knowledge, but had not yet fallen fully into darkness. His mind was still clear, his purpose noble, but his heart—tainted with envy.
Elrond intended to bring Kaen into the Council—not merely as an observer, but as his protégé.
Kaen, naturally, did not refuse.
For within the White Council lay vast knowledge and power—entry into it meant access to the deepest secrets of Middle-earth.
And so, guided by Lord Elrond, Kaen soon found himself face-to-face with Gandalf.
Upon learning of the council, the Grey Wizard immediately looked anxious.
He knew his actions—especially regarding the Dwarves—were about to be judged.
He began rambling at once, the usually calm old wizard now flustered and nervous.
"Elrond, I meant to tell you, truly! I was only waiting for the right moment. We're friends—you believe in me, don't you? You know I believe this plan will work!"
"Is that so?" Elrond raised a brow. "Smaug has slumbered for sixty years. Have you considered what might happen if your plan fails… and the dragon awakens?"
"And what if it succeeds?" Gandalf shot back. "If the Dwarves reclaim Erebor, the eastern front will be strengthened. Our enemies will be wary."
But Elrond remained unmoved. "My friend… you're playing a dangerous game."
Gandalf grew desperate. "But waiting idly is even more dangerous! Kaen agrees with me! He, too, wishes to strike first!"
"Oh?"
Elrond's eyes turned toward Kaen, who suddenly felt a chill. Uh-oh.
Feigning confusion, Kaen put on his best innocent face. "Gandalf said there were dark forces… so I came! I even rallied warriors, ready to face the shadow in open battle!"
Hearing this, Elrond gave Gandalf a long, sharp look.
"If anything should happen to my student because of this, you had best consider how you'll explain yourself… to me and to the people of Eowenría!"
With a swish of his robes, Elrond turned and left, his figure proud and displeased.
Gandalf turned to Kaen, looking utterly betrayed. "Why didn't you tell the truth just now!?"
"Eh?" Kaen blinked. "Did I lie?"
Gandalf froze.
Indeed… Kaen had spoken no falsehood.
The Grey Wizard, left with no target for his frustration, glared at Kaen. "You little rascal. Just you wait!"
He grumbled, grabbed his staff, and jogged after Elrond with small, hurried steps.
Kaen couldn't help it—he laughed out loud.
And now, he thought with delight, comes the true spectacle—watching Gandalf the Grey get utterly grilled by the Council.