teremonth

Finally, we arrived to The Havens, and there is an amount of job to do, but first of all I've brought all my things to my parents house, we will live there for some days untill we have cleaned the house that I'll be given.

Reiven read the note for a second or third time which was telling her to turn in the sword to Lord Veryacano.

“What is that?” Volina asked as she walked in to the room.

She was feeling all alone…

Like an empty sea shell.

Away from her home, her friends…

Away from Teremonth…

Although under the cover of the night she couldn’t really tell the difference of the view outside the window, she still was feeling it deep in her heart.

Flames are dancing around the branches with a soft, sweet whispering as my thoughts wandering in the well of words…

Soft breeze is sweeping over the long green grasses, shaking the leaves of old oaks which surround us…

And I am listening…

I am watching…

Reiven looked at her own reflection on the mirror. No scars, no age lines, nothing from the past years…  “Nothing”  she thought and her looks fell down to her palm where she can still see the thin line of the cut. It was healing fast and she knew it will disappear soon enough.

Cirdamir reminded me a legend I read as a child. The story of Gurthang. So many similarities.. but is this an age for such powerful artefacts to manifest their good or evil power? Would the sword of a random Noldor soldier possess such spell? I was wandering Duillond when I saw Reiven again. Likely or not if Cirdamir saw such similarities I should warn her.

Inside of me I can feel only cold… Not because of the freezing waters flowing around my legs of the stream but the shadows casted around me…

I can feel the burning on my wrist once where the mark was. It’s not burning with fire but ice this time…

I can hear the call of long lost souls more than I hear living…