Minas Tirith. The Citadel. Rellan held the infant Alec in his arms, bouncing him up and down. The infant smiled and Rellan's pale face turned to an uncharasteric bright, full of life. "Oh, little one. What futures lay ahead of you." Rellan said. "In time the Elves will learn to call you Elearedan. And those not parted by the sea will bow before your feet -- if they are as wise as they believe. Because you are what is promised. You will be the Sword. The Orphan of Illuvatar, the fools will say. Orphan. Orphan? But you are mine. You are perfect. You will be the slayer of the dragons of the mind."