The darkness of the forest hid Maedhros from the pursuit of the orc horde. For days, he wandered through the tangled trees and thorny undergrowth, cautiously making his way to the edge of the forest. Only when he was certain that his pursuers were far behind did he venture into the light that shone through the foliage. The forest gave way to a sandy coastline, where the ever-restless sea lapped at the shore. Soon, he came upon a solitary hut, with a young boy playing in the sand nearby. Maedhros froze, unwittingly admiring the carefree child. His laughter, as clear and ringing as a sea breeze, touched long-forgotten corners of Maedhros' soul, warming them with a faint but palpable warmth.

Suddenly, the boy raised his head and noticed the stranger. The joy on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by genuine fear. The tall figure wrapped in a dark cloak, the absence of an arm... Every detail about Maedhros' appearance spoke of danger. With a startled gasp, the boy broke away, running with a choked cry of "Mama!" toward the safety of the hut.

Maedhros wanted to stop him, to assure him that he meant no harm, but he knew that his hoarse, battle-roughened voice would only add to the panic. He was about to continue his way along the shore when a woman's figure appeared in the doorway of the hut. A steel blade glinted in her hand. Maedhros froze, raising his hand in a gesture of surrender.

"I don't want any trouble. I'm not an enemy, but I'm not a friend either. I didn't mean to scare your child. I'm just a traveler looking for shelter from the storm."