The boat left Celondim in the cool, dark night. The moon struggled hard to bring its silvery light through the thick and obese clouds, but there was no victory to be had tonight. The gray veil in the sky equally obscured the stars and the wind was practically non-existent. A heavy sigh escaped from my lips as the ship slowly, gradually moved over the Lhûn towards Mithlond. Along the riverbank, amongst the reed and vegetation, I noticed aggregations of fish being hunted by larger predators. Rings formed upon the water as some of the smaller beings jumped in terror, perhaps in hope that if they kept above the surface; they’d not get devoured. Above us, seagulls hovered and screamed against the sky. I looked down to the water again and thought of the poor fishes. They were hunted from every direction, by predators in the water and by seagulls in the air. Poor things. A weeping flute accompanied our journey along the river. One of the sailors played a tune I did not recognize, and it was hauntingly beautiful; like the wind that breeze across a forest, searching for the greatest instruments in nature. My eyes watered. What would I find in the east?
The news we had earlier received from the most honored dwarves of Durins Folk had turned my world upside down. Bar-en-Vanimar, a House which I greatly respect and admire, had seemingly lost two of their warriors in a skirmish against the hillmen, and at least one more was badly wounded. For the first time in months and perhaps years, I was shaken and truly terrified of what may await at this journey’s end. Who was it that had fallen? Was she injured? What if she… My thoughts wandered aimlessly into places I did not wish to tread. And her whereabouts was not my only predicament either. The last days had been riddled with dreadful news, which had sunk my heart even further into the darkness. In Duillond, after yet another interesting exchange of words with the young and troubled huntress Pengien, we learned that Lhuthinde had recently arrived from Imladris. And she carried with her a spear and brooch, belonging to one of our own. Farron had fallen in the Trollshaws during an ambush, conducted by a mysterious man from the north. I discussed with Aearandir about the possibility to leave the herth and go to Imladris in hope of finding out more, both to soothe my own aching heart and those of the herth. It was both easy said and done. A ship was swiftly prepared to take me to Swanfleet, the marshlands in the Glanduin near ancient Tharbad. Going by boat along the coast and river would save me several weeks of travelling, as well as a chance to bring back our lost Farron. That was to be my first task… I’d bring with me a Banner from the ship and find our fallen kinsman, to let the ship take him home to Mithlond.
I arrived in Mithlond by the first rays of light in the morning after. The silver towers stood there vigilantly as they had done for millenia, and the beacons were still lit to safely guide the mariners’ home. I remembered well every stone and every quirk in the currents along the river, the sand on the beach and the trees that had grown from saplings through the years. It was as if I had never left. And there, resting in the harbor, I saw it: the great, white swan that would take me into the East. As magnificent as Gwingriel, though a little larger, its sails were prepared by the crew and their creamy white splendor reflected the sunrays like a mirror when wholly unfurled. The mast was tall, painted in a light blue hue, and it was finely sculpted with the images of doves and seagulls. I swiftly carried over my luggage and presented the writ of passage as well as my orders to the captain, who acknowledged it with a nod and a smile, before calling a crewman to help me with the bags. An hour later, we weighed anchor and departed from Mithlond. There were several ships leaving in that beautiful morning, but none was bound for our direction. We left the Gulf of Lhûn on the second day, after having a shortage of wind. As we first laid our eyes upon the blue horizon beyond the mouth of the Gulf, the great sea opened up her arms and welcomed our passage with a loving embrace; the wind picked up again and filled our sails, gently carrying us south upon the mighty waves. I stood on the bow and gazed out across the sea that lay before us. Warm drops of salty water splashed over my face, and it did not take long until my hair and garments were wet from the spray of seawater. I welcomed the watery embrace, like it was an old and beloved companion. This was indeed where I belonged; on a ship, bound to sail to places unknown.
The day drew by and soon turned to evening. The stars ignited slowly, one by one, until the whole sky had become a black nothingness riddled with stars. The crew laughed and played and sang, and it was a time of joy, despite the dark thoughts that occupied my mind. The morning after, dark clouds gathered in the sky and it started to rain, like it was ordered from my most inner thoughts. It kept falling for days and the wind howled, until we finally dropped the anchor before a misty Swanfleet. The green marshes stretched out endlessly before my eyes, and our arrival stirred a commotion amongst the few white swans that had gathered nearby. We turned loose the swans, and I could see in the beating of their mighty wings that there was an uncertain journey ahead.
