A/N: Ahem. I blame you. All of you (with the exception of AJ). To those who pressed the follow button and/or left a review begging for me to continue this fanfiction.

I had absolutely NO intention of continuing this. At all.

However, when I was notified with each follow, new ideas popped into my head on what I could do with a sequel. (I'm going to say it's a sequel because I still see 'Eradan' as a one-shot).

So... on that note, I'm continuing this, though I really need to focus on finishing my other fanfics and my original stories. . Hahaha. So I feel as though I should warn you: this fic may take a long while to finish.

As I said, I am not posting the chapters on Eradan, but I figured I could add a snippet of the first chapter of the sequel: The Meaning of Home. If you're interested, the first chapter is up. :)

The Meaning of Home

The heat was gone. The pressure he had seemed to carry on his shoulders just vanished. His worries and fears just melted to nothing.

It felt as if he was floating on air and he wanted nothing more than just to relax. He didn't know where he was, didn't know exactly who he was, and it didn't seem to matter.

There was a snort of laughter, making the man frown. The sound was familiar to the young man, but it seemed as if he had not heard it in a long while. "Do you plan to sleep eternity away? Perhaps you have already forgotten me?"

Green eyes snapped open and Eradan bolted upright, his bare feet landing softly on grass. In front of him stood Halbarad, a roguish grin in place. "Moony!"

"I haven't heard you call me that in years, brat."

With a strangled laugh, Eradan rushed forward, wrapping his arms around his uncle and squeezed as tightly as he could. Unable to say anything past the constriction in his throat, Eradan buried his face in Halbarad's shirt and kept clinging to the other man.

All Halbarad could do was awkwardly pat the black-haired Istar on the back. After a few more seconds, Halbarad gently pried Eradan off him. "Enough of this. Come."

Giving another laugh, this one in pure joy, Eradan nodded. For the first time since his arrival, he paid attention to what was around him. Nothing seemed to be what he thought it should be.

Hills rose and fell gently, but what he had once thought was grass, wasn't. It appeared to be more like flowing color of greens and blues. The hills seemed as if they were breathing without any consistent rhythm.

As the two walked, Eradan watched with wonder at all that was around him. Air seemed to sing as it blew past, visible with ever changing colors. Beasts of all kinds flew, leaped or ran - whatever they seemed to prefer at that moment. Clouds changed shapes before they floated to the earth to paint that image on the moving ground. The painting would flash a color and whatever shape it was would grow from the earth and became alive - no matter how odd the shape was.

"Where are we?"

Halbarad looked over at his nephew, his head cocked to the side as they paused. "We are where you want to be."

The younger man blinked, "What?"

The ranger shrugged, "It was explained to me, but it made little sense. It was something like: when we die, we can create and change where we are. It's a replica of what we want at that moment."

Looking around, Eradan raised a brow at the sights before him before shrugging. "What do I want?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Halbard grinned at him before walking on. "Perhaps you wanted complete freedom. Or it could be you wanted chaos. I don't know and I don't care."

"What does yours look like?"

Halbarad looked anywhere but at the boy, "What I see does not matter. Though when I first came, this is near enough to what I saw."

"It changes?"

He nodded, "Once you remember."

"Remember? Remember what?" Eradan closed his eyes. He tried to call upon something, anything, but all he came up with was a blank slate. He furrowed his brows, but he couldn't dredge up the emotion to be confused or scared that he couldn't seem to remember what he was supposed to.

He even tried to remember where and how he knew Halbarad and he came up with no answer. The two walked in silence, the older man lead him towards something that looked like a mixture of brown, red and white water.

"What is that?"

"Memories. Your memories."