A paper trail
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Mid day in Tinnudir. The sun stood high, illuminating the bright blue sky, as well as the deep blue waters of Lake Evendim. Calm winds rustled the treetops and unsettled the shining lake with calm, continuing waves. White clouds silently rode across the sky along with their mirroring twins in the lake.
Eruir sat alone on the small dock, from where travelers found passage across the lake. There must have been a lot of people needing to cross the lake that day, as all the rowboats were gone. The young woman uttered a sigh of content as she looked across the serene landscape. She sat with her bare feet in the cool water, her boots and the rest of her possessions placed neatly behind her. She ran a hand through her dark brown hair to keep a persistent lock of hair from covering her sight.
A couple of rangers began laughing loudly from the camp behind her. Eruir turned halfway in paranoid curiousity; were they laughing at her? Two rangers were pointing and laughing at a third, who had spilled ale all over himself. It wasn't her. She kept looking at them for a while, envying their comradery. She sighed again, less content this time. She was alone and it taunted her.
The southron girl never had an easy time connecting with people, or making lasting bonds. Ever since her mother passed, she had only travelled with one person, who thought it best for Eruir to travel alone. To grow.
Eruir looked upwards, the silent clouds reflecting in her grey eyes. She pondered for a while. Then the girl turned halfway around, reached into her bag and took out a vial of ink, a quill, a fresh roll of parchment and a flat block of wood, fashioned to be used for writing. She placed the parchment over the block of wood, uncorked the vial of ink and carefully dipped the tip of the quill into it. She began to write with perfectly even and beautifully curled letters:
"Dear beholder,
My name is Eruir and I want to meet you. I do not know your name, who you are or where you came from. But I want to meet you. I realise it is as unlikely as the sun and the moon exchanging places, for I will not remain here. I leave for Imladris. I will travel east to Kingsfell, then south, past Nen Harn, across the Weather hills and finally east towards the Last Bridge, through the Trollshaws to Imladris.
You must be wondering why I write this. But I already wrote it. I want to meet you.
Have you ever wondered if fate truly exists? Is it simply a series of coinsidences, chained into such a specific outcome that it would seem like a force must have interfeered? Or is it truly a force guiding us to where we need to be? You reading this, is this fate? Is fate a force of good or evil?
Writing this, I cannot help but wonder who will read it, More importantly, I cannot help but wonder if you would care to meet me. Could you be planning to travel to Imladris yourself? Is it fate making me write this, that we may one day meet?
But I will challenge fate. I will write nothing of myself. Nothing but my name. I am Eruir and I want to meet you. I leave you only with this. My horse is a black and white Pinto called Mokai.
Dear beholder, I wish you all the best in your travels, that your paths may be ever green and golden. I ask you to put this back where you found it.
Your fateful friend, Eruir."
Eruir chuckled to herself and shook her head as she finished writing. Why was she doing this? An act of desperation? She wasn't sure herself. She rolled up the parchment and tied a string around it. Staring at it for a moment, she chuckled and wrote on the outside of the parchment: "Read me."
The girl got up, gathered her belongings and returned to Calenglad's camp, where she placed the scroll on a bookshelf by the ruins. She looked at the scroll with a sly smile. The taunting letters saying, "Read me", seemed like the were grinning back. Eruir had a feeling, but she told herself that nothing would ever come of it. Anyone could find it and read it, after all. Noone would care. Noone would be heading to Imladris and even if they were, she might be gone by the time they arrived. Someone might even throw it in the fire.
In any case. It was time to leave Tinnudir. It was time to go to Imladris.
