I have arrived here now in the place that everything changed. Arugru stands nearby in a guard-like manner, seeming to watch for anyone who might try to interrupt me. Perhaps he senses how important this is to me. Perhaps he simply enjoys playing the part of my guardian. It matters little either way; I remain grateful for the comfort his presence lends.
If I close my eyes I can see it all so clearly, I can hear the words we both spoke and the sound of his footfalls thudding upon the grass behind me. I feel again the rush of wind as he passed me by to dive headlong into the churning waters and I smell the scent of him - there and gone as quickly as he was. That I remember this day, out of all the others, so very vividly tells me that I am doing the right thing. It tells me that my suspicions were correct and that it is this moment in time that I was having such a hard time overcoming.
That is why I am here. That is why I sit now on the edge of the bank, mere feet away from the first of the four deadly falls that comprise this section of the river flowing through the south of Eregion. That day, that moment, and all that it influenced must be laid to rest if I am ever to walk toward the future.
I find myself checking and rechecking my supplies. To say that I am nervous about what must be done is not entirely correct. I do, however, wish to be absolutely certain that everything is in order. Mother was very specific about that which I would need and that which I must do. The ways of our people are new to me and I cannot quite bring myself to believe in them any more than I believe in anything else, but on the slight chance that it will work as I am told then I feel that I simply must do all I can to see it done properly.
The first step, she said, is to still my mind. That is easier said than done. It is a-whir with all that occured upon my previous visit to this place. The images are strong that it seems I relive them but somehow I must become calm and peaceful within. Perhaps if I close my eyes....
**********
It is done.
Kneeling upon the banks of the river, I lifted my voice in a song of lament turning to hope. I have never dared sing before and it was strange to do so, stranger still to make up the lyrics as I went along but mother was most insistant that the song be of my own devising in order to encapsulate my feelings and thoughts.
So I sang and, as I did so, I scattered handful after handful of white feathers across the surface of the water. The current carried each one away and so swiftly did they disappear over the churning falls that I began to wonder if they had ever been there at all. The feathers, mother told me, each represented a moment - a tiny fraction of my memories. They sped away, these tiny light curls of thought made reality, away on the waters that symbolised the flow of time from future to present to past. As they left my sight so did I feel just that slight bit lighter in myself.
When I ran out of feathers and song, I threw a handfull of the black earth from our homelands into the water also. That, I must say, had been difficult to acquire without returning there but it was also an important part of the proceedings. Representing both where I had come from and where I shall once again return to, it symbolised my connection to the land of my birth. The handful of the earth from the banks of the river upon which I knelt symbolised my connection to the larger world around me.
Lastly, I removed my gloves and, cupping my hands, scooped up as much of the water as I could. Some of it flowed between my fingers, but I was able to take a large enough sip of what remained before pouring the last through droplets over my upturned face to cleanse myself both inside and out, thus completing the ritual.
I feel better now. Stronger somehow and more secure. It is like a great weight has been taken from my soul and I can once more fully appreciate the simple joy of the sun warming my pale cheeks. The ritual does not make me forget what happened, of course, nor does it change what I learned from the experience. It does, however, allow me to put it where it belongs; into the past.
