Imladris

Orithil, 62 Laer

Another new journal. This one was made here, beautifully bound in the leather cover of my old journal, which Sergelon is keeping for me. I can smell the scent of Imladris on the pages, a warmth like summer that I hope stays.

Dear Sergelon,

It has been some time since I have written you, and for that I apologize. I am not the same courier that I was, and my tasks go beyond delivering messages. As my friend Lamaenon once said, what is a courier if not a scout for the White Lady? As he is with his Galadhrim, so I am for Cirdan, and I find myself spending more time gathering information than carrying it. You were right when you gave me my sword. The world is darkening, and I can no longer pretend that I can glide through it untouching and untouched.

The night was bright over the ruins of Echad Mirobel due to the sky being clear. The stars shone down upon the remnants of the past casting eerie shadows to those who watched through the darkness.

Hiril Elisbeth had arrived earlier in the evening and I now watched as she studied the book before her, its ancient pages cast a glow upon her fine features. Was there an enchantment at work or mere playful reflections of the fire I could not tell? But old beyond my years I knew the book to be.

The air was damp due to the heavy rainfall overnight and the sun was just reaching out as the first fingers of daylight spread out from the mountains to the east. The ranger already awake and breakfasted was suddenly alerted. The morning breeze which accompanied the first signs of daylight brought an all too familiar smell to his senses. He sniffed the air a few times as if to check what he already knew, there was a fire close by, but this was different.

“This is no ordinary fire” he whispered to himself.

Despite the sun smiling down there was a chill on the wind which was winding its way through the vale as I left that morning. With a last look down upon my home I turned my horse away from the sun and out the western gates of Imladris. Once across the high moor I picked my way down the slopes till I came to the Bruinen which I intended to follow southward till the rise into Echad Gwingris. The few menfolk who had chosen to make their home along the Bruinen are used to the elder patrols from Imladris passing this way so there was no need to hide my features.