Found:
I never saw. Perhaps I never wanted to. Blindness is akin to ignorance and ignorance, as they say, is bliss. What they fail to mention is that it also leaves one unprepared and at a distinct disadvantage.
Neyaa, my dear darling Neyaa, hit the nail on the head. Squarely and unerringly. She gives terrible advice, but her insight is second to none! She saw things that I didn't, or didn't want to, and made no attempt to sugar-coat it. How I adore that woman!
Still, 'tis a frightening realisation and one that I yet have some difficulty with.
It was never two. It was always three.
Silver. Sairona. Rajana. Three pieces of a puzzle that have yet to be put together. Three names, each me but not me.
Silver, the name I took for myself when I ran from my childhood. The name that has carried me through so many lands and through so many digs. The name that has shifted and changed to suit its location and needs from one given moment to the next. A chameleon with no love, no ties, no heart, no conscience.
Sairona, the name given to me when the first was taken away. The child, hurt and tormented daily. Scared, alone, hated and hating of herself. Strong and stubborn, possessing the will to go on, to spite those who would harm her by simply living.
Rajana, the name once taken from me and later taken back. She of the compassion and unbreakable spirit. She of the patience and generosity. She who I have fought against the most but who, when all is said and done, will win the war.
I have fought it. Endlessly it seems. I still do. Yet, through the wisdom of friends, I now see that it was all for naught. Silver occupied the surface, holding tight onto the reigns like a jealous and cruel rider. Sairona always lurked beneath the surface, driving me ever onward and ever away. Rajana, who I had believed to be long dead, has been influencing things all along; my care toward Aiden and Ethan, the times I gave away my gold to those who needed it, the small pieces of kindness and empathy I have shown toward various individuals over the decades. Things few and far between perhaps, but there nevertheless.
I need time to pull these pieces of me together. I need space in which to think and maneuver, to become. I'll wait here for now, as promised to Neyaa, sitting out Yule with those who care. Perhaps in that time I might come up with a solution as to the problem of how this could be achieved.
In the meantime, I while away my time with whoever I come across. Neyaa, when she's not otherwise occupied. Hartaine briefly, though now he is returned to his farmstead. Gerlof, in small bursts and his friend, the newly acquainted Pink Lady, Dernwynn. The painter, Julyah, whose gallery I have promised to go see.
A ride through the Chetwood, boredom and restlessness requiring movement, saw me once again come across a man I'd not seen in many a year. Helegrandir. Another bloody Dunedain. Judgemental at first, he blames me for his love of mulled wine. At least it is nothing more sinister. To my surprise, he pointed me in the direction of a trove that would prove of great interest to me. But whether to retrieve it? Would doing so go against that promise I made? 'Tis hidden in a ruin, but in an area of safety. Should I go? Or should I leave it well enough alone, leaving behind once and for all my ruin-stalking ways. I've time to consider, I'm sure.
After that... Evendim awaits and, hopefully, a truce for and with myself.
