All of Arda belongs to The Professor
A flicker of orange light glimpsed through sheltering trees in less uncertain times most often meant a campfire – hope of shared comfort and company.
More recently, lights ran wild in the dark, swallowing the horizon as villages burned with the onslaught of the enemy.
These new flames, orange, then gold, barely glimpsed at first, then spread wild from hilltop to hilltop. Though we know they might be calling us to death, yet they rekindle our hearts also, bright flame leaping once again in our breasts.
Whatever comes, we will stand against it together, remembering again our bonds of brotherhood.