Such struggles it is to write, as if I had never put ink on a piece of paper before. You can probably see that from this handwriting, can you not? Hopefully, over time, I will see it improve. I can see the similarities though, between this, and those letters. The letters Lasdor gave me… I am not convinced though. He is such a kind man I cannot bare myself to tell him I am in doubt of his intentions.Though, why would he make all of these things up? Why would he have looked so happy when he first saw me, so sad whenever he is reminded of how I have changed. Why would he make up a story about my entire life? However long that is… I should ask him, I am admittably curious. How old am I, really? How many years have I lost? Evidentally, at least one hundred, seeing as I have reached adulthood. But that I was merely told by reading, and judging on the image of me I see staring back from the mirror. Have I seen war, how the world changed? Or did I spend my years in quiet, cherishing some sort of art?
So many questions and so few answers… The main question is though, will I ever know, or shall I just accept what have happened and start over? Dorenthien, what were you thinking…
- Nimorial -
