Dear diary,
King Finwë was slain, the Two Trees were destroyed and the Silmarils were stolen. Darkness can be felt on every side of Aman. I saw a kinslaying with my own eyes. I, my sisters and my mother and father fought against the kinslayers who desired to steal our ships. My father was slain in front of my eyes. Many of the Ñoldor left Valinor, following Lord Fingolfin and Fëanor. Lord Finarfin would start a march as well, though he returned to Valinor. But I and my sisters and mother went on and caught up with Fingolfin.
We're still marching through Helcaraxë, and I met an Elf I've never seen before: one of the Fatherless, born in Cuivienen. Long were his hair, as the waves that carried him hither, and dark as night. Eyes like unto silver sparks that pierce the heavens of Aman. Around him was a dim glow, for he shone with the Light of Valinor. Tall he stood, towering over others; his stance lordly, yet betraying no hint of pride. His name is Elechir, and he is not a warrior but a linguist. Lambengolmo, Loremaster of Tongues he is called by his kin, and with him stood Elechiril, his partner. He said that when we reach Beleriand he'll teach me the ancient language of my ancestors, and the language of the Valar.
