I have arrived. Near death I have been for several days but I have arrived! The Fields of Fornost lay before me covered in mist while I write from the ruined tower at the summit of Amon Raith. The structure is better preserved in some ways than the tower at Amon Sûl but nowise as grand. It presently shelters Dúnedain and folk from nearby farmsteads displaced by orcs.
Even here the agents of our ancient nameless foe bring their poison. Today I have fought spirits fell and noxious in order to gaze finally on the capital of the old North Kingdom and delve into its secrets. I am full of wonder...we in the South learned so little of the final battle of Fornost. Even the libraries at Minas Tirith are nearly silent on how the great city actually fell. So few survived the battle for word to spread.
Beruthiel and I arrived at this ruined outbuilding of the Men of Westernesse today at sundown. My heart should be exaultant...yet I have riddles more than answers and a nameless dread is upon me. As a historian, I came to the North to learn the ways of old Arnor. How it lay, its peoples and their divers fates, to search for relics of a past long dead. But as a Man I care only about Arnor's hope. How was hope lost? How was its destruction wrought? What were the signs of the corruption? Were they purely external pressures or were Men's hearts rent from the inside as well? A city's gates can fall to a battering ram...but as oft they are opened by treachery. Would Turukáno of the Hidden City recognize the true story of the fall of Fornost if it were told him?
I am no closer today than I was in the libraries of the Hall of the Faithful to understanding this puzzle. All children of Men know the tales of the Witch Realm of Angmar and its horrid King. Little did Arvedui or his kin know of their opponent but we in later days know better now with hindsight. Ever has little good it done Men to see their danger in stark relief against their past. So here I hope to see the dangers of our future there instead.
May my efforts not come too late for my people.
I see the Sickle of the Valar in the North...a warning to the enemies of the West...to an enemy even older and more loathsome than our present menace. I will stargaze for a time and forget despair.
