Finally, after many days travel, I reached my destination.
Aughaire, beyond the Ram Duath. I have been here twice before; both times passing through only one my way to and from Nan Gurth with Blaecwyn and the men. As such, I knew with whom to speak upon my arrival; Cheiftan Crannog.
He did not remember me at first, but he smiled when I told him of how I knew this place. He remembers the militia well for they have helped this tribe many times in the past. He became ever more welcoming once he learned my name and my reason for coming. Indeed, he sent me to a tent to await the arrival of Vaeshiva in comfort.
Days passed before finally I was told that she had returned. Hesitantly, unsure of what I would learn from her, I followed the direction to the tent in which she waited. Inside it sat a middle-aged woman with pale skin and black hair. When she looked at me, when I looked into her black eyes, it was like looking into my own; as if the woman before me was myself, only in later life.
She knew my name without my ever having to say it. She spoke much of my father and how she knew him. She told me so much, but the most shocking thing, the hardest to hear and yet the easiest to believe, was that she was my real mother!
The story she told me, of how my father had come to be in these lands, of how they had fallen in love and brought me into the world, of how he had been forced to flee Aughaire with me in his arms - still only a baby - made so much sense. In its own way, it also explained why the woman I had thought was my mother had hated and hurt me so much, and why I looked nothing like her. I suppose it is also an explanation as to why my name is not very Bree-land-ish.
To add to the surprises of the day, Baradar turned up. He had been tracking me, he said, having been worried when he had discovered me missing. He rests here now, having learned of my parentage as well.
One more surprise was to come, though, for another girl entered the tent some time afterwards. She, too, bore a resemblance to myself; I could see it as I looked at her. Her name is Jikista and she is the daughter of Vaeshiva, my mother, making her my half-sister! I have never had a sister before.
After all this time, I have a family again. After so long, things are finally beginning to make sense once more. I have a mother and a sister. I am not a pure-breed Bree-lander as I had always thought, but am also descended from the Trev Duvardain of Angmar; the people of the Iron Crown.
What does that mean for me, though? Who am I really? Where am I truly from and where do I belong?
I never felt right in Bree-land, I know that much, but will I truly fit in here? There is only one way to find out. I must stay. I must learn more of my ancestry, of my people, my past, and of my family.
