He turned around. One final look at the place in which he had dwelt for the past 2,000 years. He knew now what would happen after he was gone, but still, leaving was hard. He knew he must, that it was no longer his time, and he was glad to be going, but he would still miss this land, and the people in it. At least he did not have to make the journey alone, he thought, smiling fondly at those who stood by him. Bilbo, faithful old hobbit; Frodo, the Ringbearer; Galadriel, mighty among the Valar; Elrond, learned lore-master; and others also. They were the last remnants of a time which was leaving this land, but the land would not forget them. Men might forget them, after a great time had past, but the land never would. Yes, he knew what would happen. He thought of his friends he was leaving behind. Aragorn. Aragorn would have a son, and his son would have a son, and so it would continue, for from Aragorn would come a great line, which would never be extinguished, till the ending of time. Legolas, and the woodland elves who chose to remain in Middle-Earth for a time. From them would grow peace and joy, the earth would be renewed, it would blossom, and new life would come forth. Gimli, and the dwarves. They would now be able to delve deep into the earth, bringing forth new treasures, bringing forth prosperity for all. However, even the dwarves could not bring forth the greatest treasures the world could know, the greatest treasures of Arda walked on it’s face daily. No, the greatest treasures were the people, the simple men and women, living their simple lives. It was no longer the time of the Firstborn, now it was the time of Men. He turned around, strode up the plank, and signaled that he was ready. Cirdan loosed the great ship from her moorings, then silently she moved away, leaving behind Middle-Earth, friends, and family, but not memory. No, they would take their memories with them, memories of a time that was no more.