They came to rest on a low hill that was dry, as the low-lying areas were wet and marshy. Once again they kept a careful watch, and once again the night passed away without disturbance.
The next day the path began to wind ever downwards, and the refugees could see that the trees were becoming fewer, the terrain more subdued. The land tilted to their right, gradually becoming steadily flatter, and by nightfall they were crossing level ground.
Midnight had long since passed, and it was the dark hour before the first pale light of dawn. The moon was rising above the treetops, and the evergreens had given way to a forest of enormous oaks, some eight or ten feet thick at the base. And suddenly, their way was illuminated!
It was a spectacular sight. The huge trees were covered in snow, and the moon in the sky above was ringed by a halo of silver light. A few of the brightest stars shone palely through the light cloud which hung in the sky like a veil.
Elgar directed Birin to stop here.
‘This is a place such as your forebears used to live,’ he said, as if trying to ascertain the true purpose of the Elves. ‘Do you still maintain that it is truly your intent to live as they did?’