Eä er sí: There is only the now.
So it is true.
I spent hours staring over my charts, my maps, my thoughts of the West. Not a one of them moved me to hope, as they have done so very strongly as of late. I ask myself now, as I have been for these last few days:
What becomes of the Eldar to whom the bent road does not call?
The thoughts bring me to both heights of anticipation, and the unsteady edge of fear. The Voice has not left me, and this is a relief; I am still a healer, as a sudden call to do so was thrust upon me as of late. But there was no deeper care in my spirit-- my interest was singular, only to destroy the wrongness of naz-wound. Not for the sake of its unforunate recipiant, but to challenge myself.
Does this make me less of a person as I had been?
My songs are full of shadow and doubt, now. I feel as if a turning has occured, and have hidden my name. Perhaps there are those on the other shores that had been reaching for me, and ceased to. I do not know..
I am not saddened by this, only cautious and curious. What is to come? Will the soft strains of old-song that I can hear when I near every pool of natural water fade? The idea fills me with great sorrow, and I think should I time ever come then I shall be truely lost.
I will quicken myself with burying my attentions in the life of my charge again. He is young and brash, and will often need my slow-time to bring his attentions to the things that matter. There is only so much shadow a spirit can flutter under before it dispairs beneath it; I shall not become such a one, an Eldar whose eyes only see the ill in the world and whose cup holds nothing but grief.
There are many things still good in the world, and I must do my small part to keep this young one a part of it.
...I must go. My mare, Liltariel, is fidgeting beneath me. There are only so many golden apples she can be bribed to stillness with before she wants to ride.
