Aeanor was born of regret.

At the end of the Second Age, the island of Númenor stood unchallenged amongst the realms of Middle Earth. This kingdom of Men had far surpassed all the deeds of their kin in the centuries past. From their mighty throne, the great kings dictated the tempo and direction of all life in Middle Earth and beyond. Their cities, their fleets, their armies, their music and even their language were at the peak of their beauty, a testament to the will and ability of men.

But men's greatest strengths are also their greatest weaknesses. The desire to excel, the drive to be greater than those who came before soon turned down a darker path. For all of man's accomplishments, they were never going to be enough to sate an ambition that had grown out of control. For men sought to conquer the final journey, deny the long sleep and turn away from the gift of Eru. Man sought to defeat death.

Their opportunity came in the reign of Ar-Pharazôn the Golden, 25th King of Númenor and lord of all men. Though the Island remained peaceful, the clouds of darkness had against gathered over Middle Earth after an age of peace. Sauron, chief Lieutenant to the dark lord Morgoth had returned to Mordor and in the fires of Mount Doom, he built an army to conquer the land. So Númenor went to war and against their might Sauron proved no match. He was brought back to the island realm in chains, a prisoner to be mocked and condemned. As time passed however, the poison of Sauron, masquerading as wisdom, began to turn the heart and mind of Ar-Pharazôn away from the light of the Valar and towards the dark of Morgoth. Temples were erected in his honour and blood spilt in his name. Many opposed these developments and retained their loyalty in secret to the Aratar. Sauron, in his fair form, became an advisor to the King and it was from this position that he put forth the impossible solution; an invasion of the Undying Lands and the final victory over death itself.

A fleet was assembled the likes of which mankind had never seen, brought together with the sole purpose of overthrowing heaven. With Ar-Pharazôn at their head, the fleet set out for their attack; many confident of victory but others hesitant of making war against the Valar. When they came upon the white shores of Aman, the resolve of the army wavered for the first time. For some, the line was finally crossed. The twelve ships of Caldor, Lord of Eldalondë and steward of the King, packed with soldiers and families for the campaign to come, could pretend no longer and turned away in rout to the north. No effort was made to follow them, for the King rallied his remaining ships and disembarked on the shores of Aman, committing the ultimate sin. Only now did the deceit of Sauron reveal itself, as Eru himself brought down mountains about the heads of the army, burying them forevermore under coastal mountains. The great island itself sank once more beneath the seas, returning from whence it came as the greatest reward of men's selflessness and courage was revoked for their greed and arrogance.

So fell the Kingdom of Númenor and with it, an age of culture and beauty was lost. The dozen ships of Caldor were now alone in the Great Sea, at the mercy of those they had gone to war against. Caldor himself pleaded with the Valar for forgiveness and the Valar, having no desire to shed more blood than had been spilled already in Sauron's name, permitted them to travel west. No longer was Aman accessible to men, forever lost to those who did not know how to find it, but instead they found a new continent bursting with life which they called Meluinor. In the sheltered Bay of Vigilance, so named for the first ship to land there, Caldor established the city of Minas Luin and the kingdom of Aeanor, fearing that the occupants of his ships were all that remained of Númenor.

He was mistaken, for a few years after the kingdom's founding, a message arrived from the east. Elendil, Lord of Andúnië, had survived the island's fall and formed realms-in-exile in Middle Earth; Gondor and Arnor. Now he made war against the enduring evil of Sauron, who had returned to his lands in Mordor, and called for aid from his western kin. Caldor, fearing what had occurred when last men had engaged the Dark Lord and fearing for his kingdom's survival, refused the call. It was his son, Othion, Prince of Aeanor, who defied his father's wishes and led an army of volunteers to the assistance of Middle Earth. They formed part of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, fighting in the terrible battles at the Black Gate, Dagorlad and on the slopes of Barad-Dur itself. Their triumph came at a terrible cost, Sauron vanquished at the cost of Elendil and the Elven High King Gil-Galad.

Evil was defeated, but not destroyed and so Othion, who had formed a great friendship with Isildur during their campaigns and fallen deeply in love with Middle Earth, declared the Oath of Othion:

Be my heirs ever watchful,

Be their blades ever ready.

Be their ears ever open,

Be their shields ever steady.

May they watch to the east,

Where the dark shadow lies.

May they await the day,

When the black banner flies.

May they await the call,

From our brothers, our kin.

May they answer with horns,

And march against sin.

May they hold the line,

Against the oncoming shade.

May they strike down the darkness,

And our debt be repaid.

As the centuries passed, so the oath was slowly forgotten, passing from promise to folklore and from folklore to myth. The Kings and Queens of Aeanor turned their gaze to their own land as the Kingdom's power grew, Númenorians mixing with the native peoples and cultures, until Aeanor was the greatest realm in all the west. In these days, the Oath of Othion was no more than a distant memory.

But there were some who remembered.

And the time had come for Aeanor to honour the promise made so long ago.