When one of pure faith is lost in the northern wilds, the light of the Sacred Trees shall rise to show the way.
Through the drifting mists the Avari Elves walked, and at length they all raised their eyes toward the West. The sky there was wreathed in a splendid green radiance, and the shadow of the Green Sacred Tree, Calencair, flickered faintly in the high void, now seen, now gone.
"By the stars... is that truly the Sacred Tree?"
"I can feel it," some whispered, hands pressed to their hearts. "There is unending life in that light."
"The very air here holds a strange power," said another softly. "I feel the weariness leaving my limbs."
"Look at that forest yonder. That must be Mirkwood, must it not? In elder days it was named the Great Greenwood. My kin of old dwelt beyond those trees."
"I do not wish to go on. I would stay here..."
The Elves halted one by one, standing where they were, their faces filled with longing as they gazed upon the distant woods and the sky-veiled image of Calencair.
King Dáin Ironfoot of the Iron Hills looked at them and spoke in a deep, steady voice. "If you go on, the road ahead leads into the Old Forest Road. There lies the border between Taurëmírë and the Woodland Realm. The Elves will shield you there. As for us, we must turn back now. I wish you a fair journey. From here onward, no great peril should trouble your path."
The Avari bowed slightly to the Dwarves, their gestures solemn and sincere, gratitude shining in their eyes.
Felárdë said, "We thank the Dwarves for your escort. This kindness we shall remember until the end of our days."
Thus the Dwarven escort came to its end. Felárdë led the Avari Elves along the way Dain had set out for them, and they passed beneath the boughs into the Old Forest Road.
No enemies barred their way. Instead they lingered often over the sights that flanked the path. Autumn leaves fell in a bright, drifting rain, as if the forest itself dreamed aloud. They walked beneath the trees and they slept beneath the trees, lulled by the creak of branches and the rustle of leaves.
On one such day, the clear cries of the birds overhead made many Elves stop and listen.
About half a hundred thousand Elves from five clans came before Felárdë and asked leave to remain in that forest.
One of their chieftains bowed and said, "Honored chieftain, the sights along this way have stolen our hearts. We and our people have fallen deeply in love with this land. We have resolved to stay. If we can win the goodwill of those who hold this forest, we would dwell here in this fair place."
Felárdë did not gainsay them. He answered, "This is an Elven homeland. To the south lies the realm of His Majesty Kaen Eowenríel. The Caladhîn Elves dwell there, and they are called the Radiant Folk.
"Northward lies the Woodland Realm. The Green Sacred Tree is planted upon the mountain heights there. By the word of King Dáin, King Thranduil is greatly beloved by the folk of the wood.
"My people, however you choose, I wish you happiness in the years to come..."
So it was that five clans, in all fifty thousand Avari, remained behind in Mirkwood.
Of them, three clans with thirty thousand Elves went north. The woodland folk received them, and they became a part of the Woodland Realm.
The remaining two clans went south and joined those Elves who believed in Kaen yet had not become Caladhîn. Thus they became one branch of the Radiant Folk.
Felárdë continued onward with the remaining host.
...
On the road that lay ahead, they came at last to the greatest city of the northern East-lands, the city of Tusgar. There they bathed in the light of the Star of Eowenríel, and beneath the glow of the Silver Tree, Eleneldo.
Domhere, Lord of Tusgar, replenished their stores and provisions, then gave them guidance for the way to come.
"Follow the great river southward," he said. "In the wind and snow you will see, upon the left bank, silver light shining, and upon the right bank a blue radiance. Those lights meet and mingle over that land.
"On the left bank rises the city of Taurëmírë, where the Elven regent dwells, and the light of your lord shelters that place.
"On the right bank stands the forest where the Galadhrim dwell, the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. There, in the deep of the forest, the Blue Sacred Tree, Lúna Olonta, reveals its holy colors.
"The Galadhrim there will show you the final road. And if your hearts are devout enough, perhaps the Blue Sacred Tree will let a portion of its light fall also upon the land where you shall live and dwell hereafter... Fangorn Forest."
Felárdë led his people southward once more.
All along that way, the fair Vale of Anduin, the Elves' beloved land, tempted many to stay. Some lingered long among its green slopes and clear waters, and in the end chose to dwell there.
Then fell the first snowflake of winter upon that land of light and beauty. Under snow and wind the Elves pressed on. Their host stretched far, so far that from any one place its end could not be seen.
Yet their numbers were now far fewer than at the beginning. They had less than two hundred thousand left.
Upon the wide white plain they at last came to the place where many lights were entwined together.
There they saw Caladhîn Elves with hair like mist-gilt gold, and beside them the Elves of Lothlórien. Pure elemental radiance shone from their bodies, and they stood silently in the storm, waiting.
There, upon the white expanse, elves with hair of shimmering gold awaited them. They were Caladhîn of radiant lineage, standing beside the elves of Lothlórien, all cloaked in pure elemental light. And at their front stood Yenagath, the Chief of the Caladhîn, and with him Galadriel and Celeborn, waiting in the wind and snow for the Avari to arrive.
They received the two hundred thousand Avari kindly, and the wanderers found ample supplies and rest in that place.
Felárdë, the great leader who had guided his people in this westward wandering, was treated with the honor due to a king.
In truth, without his knowing, he had already become an Elven king. There was depth in his gaze, and in that depth a gleam of wisdom. His tall form carried the full majesty of a ruler.
All those who had followed him had also been changed along the road. A subtle transformation had come over them; from head to foot they seemed more steadfast, more solemn, as though time and trial had carved new strength into their very being.
They had become a new branch of the Elven kindred. To honor this great migration, Felárdë gave his people a new name: the Amanielyar Elves, which in their tongue meant those who are cherished as messengers of peace.
This name also spoke for their hearts. They were a folk who loved peace. Unless driven by utter necessity, they would never willingly stir up war.
For Felárdë knew well what Kaen Eowenríel had staked upon their fate: that Kaen had pledged his own honor and glory, so that the Amanielyar Elves might be allowed to enter Fangorn Forest.
From that hour, in their faith, besides heaven and earth and all the works of nature, there was one more name held in reverence: Kaen Eowenríel.
In the tongue of the Avari, the name of Kaen was praised as that of a great being who brought hope and light.
...
Guided by the radiance of the Blue Sacred Tree, Lúna Olonta, the Amanielyar Elves passed over the Fields of Celebrant and at last came to the River Limlight.
There King Thengel of Rohan had long awaited them with his riders.
In that place the two peoples swore a pact of mutual defense, and made an oath that neither would take arms against the other.
Thus it came to pass that the two hundred thousand Amanielyar Elves, under the escort of the Riders of Rohan, entered at last into Fangorn Forest.
The Ents had already been waiting for many days. With them came a host of Huorns, and together they opened a path for the Elves through the deep wood.
These two races would henceforth stand together. The Ents would guard the forest, and the Amanielyar Elves would guard the Trees. So they became, in truth, two kindreds bound in a single life.
Then came the voice of Fangorn, thunderous and ancient:
"Fair elves, welcome to our woodland. From this day forth, this forest shall be our shared home. The King of the North, Kaen Eowenríel, has given this realm a new name, and so shall it be called the Kingdom of Amanielyar and Ents…"