Yet again, my mediation has been interrupted by the vision, a dream that I have had many times since leaving the wilderness. It is always the same, but what can it mean? My Father had the gift of foresight, but surely this is not a vision of things to come?
The golden leaves falling to the ground, with my fathers bow lying gently amongst them…
The face of a beautiful maiden, her dark hair, wet against her pale skin, her Silver-blue eyes that shimmer and as she rests her hand on my cheek, she begins to speak my name…
The circlet of silver and gold falling broken to the ground…
The two Halflings scrambling over a rocky crag as if being chased by the dark lord himself…
Who is the maiden that I have seen so clearly for all these year? What can this mean? I shall ride Doron to the haven of Imladris, I’m sure that one of the wise folk there will be able to offer an answer.
