Parchment to Burn - 3

My thoughts have turned inwards of late. I feel that I am missing something, some vital clue, some piece of a puzzle that I have yet to see. Where once I would know my path, my mind, my feelings and what I should do in any given situation, I now find myself at a loss. Uncertainty plagues me at every turn, taunting me from behind a fog of my own devising. The world itself seems ephemeral now, the dim flame of a small candle doomed to last only hours in a dreamscape of ethereal nonsense. My one constant during this troubled time, my one tether to the real world beyond my crushing despair, has been Daremis, an elf of Vanimar whom I have known for some time. He visits, although not often, largely leaving me to my solitude and yet he has unfailingly come to me when I have found myself to be in the greatest need. Although he himself does not see it, his presence has brought me much needed comfort, his words lending momentary focus to my scattered thoughts. I know what I must do, at least for now. The House has been quiet for some time now, the elves under my care either being busy elsewhere or having moved to other Houses; their need for sanctuary within the halls of Estel Gilgalad being over. I am not needed here, not right now and I find the burden of my duties as its custodian to be a weight too heavy for my shoulders. I must lay that weight aside for the moment, for in my present state I am of no aid to myself or my people. Let the House of Blessed Starlight sleep, then, whilst her governess seeks peace.