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Chapter 149 - Chapter 149: A Legend In The Making

The war of Dol Guldur was ended. The shadow of Sauron, once rooted deep in the North, was driven forth by the might of many.

Within the eaves of Mirkwood the creatures of darkness were hunted down. Tens of thousands perished beneath the combined wrath of Elves, Dwarves, and Men; others fled eastward, scattering into the desolate wilds.

Kaen rode tirelessly through the forest, his steed bearing him swift as the wind. Wherever he passed, silver light streamed from him, falling like dew upon the trees. And behold, in that autumn season, from withered branches sprang tender shoots of green, a wonder of rebirth. Where shadow had ruled, the wood blossomed evergreen.

Thus was the war ended. Yet its echo did not fade, for bonds had been reforged: Elf, Dwarf, and Man once more stood as one. Kaen had become their living bond, the vessel of hope—and that was a thing the Darkness feared.

Before the Allied Host disbanded, the eight monarchs who had led their peoples gathered in a solemn council. Together they decreed that Mirkwood should be parted in twain: north of the Old Forest Road under the rule of the Woodland Realm, and south of it entrusted to the realm of Eowenría.

Thranduil, in token of amity, gave into Kaen's hand the ruins of his people's ancient seat, once Amon Lanc, now cleansed. Kaen named it anew Taurëmírë—the Gem of the Forest.

When the host dissolved, the kings bade one another farewell.

Galadriel spoke first, her voice like clear waters: "Taurëmírë lies near to Lothlórien. I bid you come to Caras Galadhon as my guest."

Celeborn added: "Your radiance is like nothing in all our long years. It recalls the glory of the Silmarils. You must allow us to see more of this gift."

Elrond, grave and wise, said: "Kaen, my marvellous pupil, I shall wait for you with Glorfindel in Lothlórien. Within you shines the hope of every free folk of Middle-earth."

Glorfindel inclined his head. "Your fate is unbound. Choose as you will—it is yours to shape."

Kaen smiled and answered: "In spring of the coming year, I shall visit Lothlórien."

Thranduil then spoke: "Lord Kaen, I too shall await you in my halls."

Kaen bowed in return. "In midsummer I shall journey north, and fulfill my promise to gift your people with my light."

"Then you shall be welcomed," said Thranduil and Legolas together, bowing low.

Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, clasped Kaen's arm. "Come also to Erebor. See with your own eyes the halls you once fought to free, now shining with new life."

Bard of Dale echoed him: "My people sing of your deeds already. They will rejoice to see you."

And Dáin Ironfoot of the Iron Hills laughed heartily: "You have never trod my realm. Come, and I will set before you our finest meats and the stoutest ale ever brewed. Such honor is owed to the friend of the House of Durin."

So they parted with affection. Eight Monarchs of free folk—never before had such a gathering been seen, and seldom would it be again. Kaen gave his word to visit each in the year to come.

After the host was disbanded, he commanded Caden, Mundar, Zakri, and the other captains to lead the armies back to Tusgar for rest, and when spring returned, to pass the High Pass and go westward once more. But Kaen himself remained in Taurëmírë, for there was much to be wrought.

With him stayed Cathril, Gandalf, Artemis, and the five hundred of the King'sGuard.

After long thought, Kaen called Yenagath to bring a portion of the caladhîn elves to dwell there, founding a third homeland beside Elarothiel and Tusgar. Five thousand answered, and under Kaen's radiance they began to build anew.

The fortress of Dol Guldur was torn down stone by stone. In its place rose a white statue, towering and noble, wrought by many hands: Kaen Eowenríel, arms crossed upon his breast, guarding the Caladhîn-elves for all time.

Kaen, Gandalf, and Artemis inscribed runes of power upon it, shaping it into a vast vessel of light. Kaen poured his radiance into the statue, so that all within many leagues might bathe in its blessing.

So winter came. Snow fell, but beneath Kaen's light, life did not wither. He walked the woods with Cathril and Artemis, hunting and wandering, and the South-wood thrived even under frost.

When spring broke, the forest rang with song once more. The Dark Lord was gone; new life returned, and many Elves came. Avari, Nandor, Silvan—all found joy in the light. Some, touched by Kaen's radiance, chose to become Caladhîn.

Soon Taurëmírë held thirty thousand of the Caladhîn, and fifty thousand more of other kindreds, who nonetheless named Kaen their High King. Thus Taurëmírë flourished, a realm of beauty and renewal.

At length, on a fair morning, Kaen set forth upon a new journey. With him went Cathril, Gandalf, Artemis, and his five hundred guards. From Lothlórien to the Woodland Realm, from Dale to Erebor, and to the Iron Hills beyond, he would pass—visiting every kingdom, bearing light and hope.

So began a new chapter, a new song in the great lay of Middle-earth. A legend in the making, as Kaen's hand would fashion many works of wonder, and gift each race with new hope.

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