From the Diary of Denebrian - Summer 510 FA
There is much to be beheld within Gondolin this summer season. Of personal note, I have mastered my journeyman training in the art of metalsmithy. My master loved the delicate hand I placed into the design of the shoulder guards which were tasked upon me.
I spent most of the spring in thought of just what would prove worthy of Eldar metalwork. My design I placed upon a guard long enough to protect the upper arm, yet leaving the joints free to move with the arm in all directions. The shoulder guard I made slighty arched on both sides allowing for protection to the bearer's muscles. On the guard itself I etched an image, though this took the longest time in doing. The image contained the symbol of the house centered upon it with the wings of a graceful swan; the symbol of our city, down the length of each side. The final touch was the head of the swan looking down upon the symbol of our house. Upon completion I wept softly at my master's approval of my work.
I am coming up on my three-hundredth year under the sun and still continue training with my father. I think I have greatly improved in skill and feel ready for him to ask Lord Rog to accept me into the house guard to continue my training. My father is a fine teacher, but I feel he is not pushing me hard, in fear he may injure me or much worse. I just wish he would ask me how I feel about this matter.
My father and mother are currently in the main part of the city attending this season's Summer Festival. I chose not to attend today, but rather sit here in solace on the balcony outside my room, to place my thoughts down on paper. The city is lit with the music of the House of the Harp. I can hear the singing from here and it brings peace upon me. I wonder if everyone in the lands of Gondolin also feels moved by the sounds of festival.
As I look across the city, Gondolin seems as though it could light the whole of Beleriand. There is not a cloud in the sky, save one dark cloud to the north and east. For now it seems the building tops seem much brighter. Even the flowers upon the gardens seem to add even more brightness to my surroundings as they too reach upwards for the sun's gentle kiss. Judging from that cloud however, which is moving ever closer, it seems we may have a storm by nightfall.
I can also hear something a little different in the music. It sounds as if one of the drummers is a little off beat with the other musicians in the chorus of music. It may just be my ears, for I have never been a study of music. No matter, I still am happy to hear it and enjoy it nonetheless. Even as ...........
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The abrupt ending to this entry and to this part of Denebrian's overall story is a result of what she thought was as an incoming storm. She was partly right as this would be the day when Gondolin would fall under the will of Morgoth and the hordes of Angband as written in the Silmarillion and the Book of Lost Tales.
It will be long years of hardship and journies before Denebrian once again will add thoughts to parchment. This story only begins her sorrows as she sets out into a world unknown to her.
