Although he was instructed in the art of armaments and the way of war throughout his youth, as were all able-bodied young men, he delighted rather in instruments of music, advancing in all manner of minstrelsy. But as the years progressed, despite his enjoyment of the opportunities afforded by living in high society, his heart wandered ever further beyond the castle walls. He yearned for dusk and dawn, for stars through the branches, for dolorous fluvial flowers and delicious autumnal ambience, for Silence singing in a sylvan glade, for heaven mirrored in a Northern lake, for enchantments and dreams and tears and laughter. He yearned for Arnor: the North-kingdom, rent and ravaged, yet attractive in its ancientry. He had heard tales of its forgotten fortresses, its sorrowful ruins, and its wild wildernesses; and of his kindred, the Rangers of the North, who still walked its lonely paths and warded its ludicrous people.
Ernildir realized, though, that his kindred was lost or hidden, and that paths are dangerous. He, a mere minstrel, was not prepared to tread the desolate North alone. And none would go with him. So he began the long preparation for his solitary pilgrimage, seeking instruction from the Ithilien Rangers: the only organization which could offer him the skillset necessary for Northern wanderings.
After many years of arduous, conglomerate training, and many more of waylaying the Enemy East of the Anduin, at last he was ready. He took his leave of the Forayers, guiding a small vessel along the Great River: slowly trickling down to the Southern Shores and thence back to the Land of the Prince. After a brief repose in the foam-showered tower which would no longer be his home, he bade farewell to the beautiful Bay of Belfalas and to the serenading sea. He bade farewell also to his oldest and dearest friends: pipes, strings, organs and whistles; he left all with tears and memories. Only the panflute Aduial Dinu, whom he met as a child among the Falathrim, would come to keep his spirit company, singing to him through dusk and dawn.
Ernildir traversed the western valleys of the Ered Nimrais before joining the North-South Road in Enedwaith.
Through a harmony of sporadic adventure and rampant serenity, by uncounted sunsets and forgotten winds, he passed into the Forgotten Realm and came at last to the memory he sought: ancient Annúminas upon the southern shores of Nenuial. There he dwelt in solitude for a time, taming its gardens and harvesting its waters, until one starlit evening he was hailed on the outskirts of his camp by a grey-cloaked figure identifying himself as one of the Rangers of the North, come on a periodic scouting of the ancestral fortress.
Finally united with his lost brethren, Ernildir learned that although they were scattered, they were far from disorganized. In the absence of their Chieftain, they heeded the command of Captain Halbarad, who directed the silent warding of the North from a hidden Númenórean settlement near Fornost Erain.
To this waypoint of the Rangers Ernildir was guided by his newfound companion, where during his stay he was given opportunity to acquaint himself with many of the Order and learn of their ways and tactics. After sufficient orientation and at his request, he was appointed a Warden of Annúminas, whose docks and shores, though worn with age, reminded him of his beloved Belfalas. He guarded the surrounding lands of Evendim for many years, until during the War of the Ring he was summoned to ride to the aid of his Chieftain Aragorn as a member of the Grey Company. He was slain in the Dagor Morannon.