The light was fading as Alkawen began to make her way through the halls of the main building of the Order. There were servants who could do the chore of lighting the halls, but she had always enjoyed seeing the light spring to life as candle and torch were lit. It was during this meditative ritual, the Iaurmenel was reflective.
"I am grateful for this quiet night," she thought to herself, "the return from the West was hard on us all. I will look in on Balisan in the morning. He was right, the mission was simple, but it was not easy." She continued her round, lighting each sconce and candelabra, bringing the entire hall into light once again.
Deep in her thoughts she recalled how Balisan convinced her it was time to establish a presence in the West, find others of like mind who would take up the mantle of the Order. Though successful, the mission had some steep costs. The Komptur predicted there could be losses, the Order would be exposed, little did he know he would be counted in those losses.
There had been others, too. Some gone to the Order forever, like the Knights Bulivye, Aedicus, Duramarth and Turgur. Some of the strongest, Wulfthred, Fairlain, Sybri, Cynraede, Lindovor, Eldoriian and Balisan himself, gravely wounded on the long road in the West. Some of those wounded, never to return to their duties, one of them left mute and a few returned to health and duties by Dwimmer, Frithswith and Lindovor, some of the Order's Septarians.
Hiril Alkawen stopped for a moment before the portrait of Sir Balisan, "The road goes on," she said aloud then returned to the lighting ritual. The faces of each of those who would continue onward appeared in the flames as she lit them. There were some who had been with the Order for countless years who had proven their fealty. Andufion, Givil, Angelnarth and Cerythael, as well as others came into her mind's eye. There were many new and unproven, only time would reveal if they were to become trusted. And there were a few, that would go deeper into the shadows, the most trusted, the most dangerous.
Having finished lighting the halls, Alkawen retired to her chamber to begin packing for the journey she would undertake in two days time to another great hall, one of Dwarves.
What began in ancient times, continues.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
