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The Burden of Years
While passing beneath the golden boughs, Makanárë cannot help but remember flashes of memory - another forest, protected by different and yet no lesser enchantment that this one, and the drawing of steel beneath the ancient boughs. She knows Ráolor too is not free of this burden - for who cannot escape from such an event without scars?
"We should still be careful. We still do not know what they think about our ... past."
The voice of Ráolor echoes in her mind with the tramp, tramp, tramp of her steel-toed boots upon the smooth flagstones. What welcome would she find in this land of golden trees? Only time will tell.
