Penned in the House of Healing,
In the Realm of Dorwinion.

With my strength now slowly returning, I thought to wander the green and golden wood that lies westwards of the vineyards of Dorwinion, for long have I yearned to be amidst trees once more. From the very depth of my fëa am I drawn to the forest, perhaps because the sparse trees to be found in the East were under the sway of the Shadow, leafless and bleak; or perhaps I yet bear a love of the woodland from bygone days that I now no longer recall?

It is curious to me that in my last account it was of the Onyalië that I wrote; those ancient Shepherds of the Trees, sprung from the thought of Yavanna to protect the forests from peril. And though I know not how this knowledge remains to me when all other memory is lost or faded, but I recall that ever were they skilled in tongues, learning them swiftly and never forgetting. Yet they preferred the languages of the Eldar, and loved best the ancient High-elven speech; for it was the Elves who in the Elder Days awoke in the Onyalië the desire to speak, and taught to them Quenderin. In those days the Eldar loved to talk to all things, and perhaps this is the enchantment that yet lies over the wood of Dorwinion in this later Age, for today as I wandered in the cool shade beneath its leafy canopy I found, to my wonderment, that I could discern the songs of the birds in the branches, and listening carefully, even the muted voices of other woodland creatures!

Now, I write here the words "listen" and "voices", but it was not with ears that I heard their speech, nor with tongues did they speak (as the Onyalië of old); rather that as I walked with my mind in látie, it was within my mind that I heard their voices in ósanwe. Amazed, I sank down between the roots of a towering fernë, and resting my heated head back against its cool smooth skin, I could hear even the long slow thoughts of that mighty tree. How can this be? I know that since days of yore the Elves have spoken with the olvar and kelvar of Middle-earth, but I deem that this skill is not usual for a Man, and my head reels at why this should be so for me. But when calmness finally returned to me, I took comfort in this unlooked-for circumstance; for here I am, a man without kin nor friendship (save those whom I have found but recently), and yet now all living things of Arda are likely companions! And so for hours uncounted I sat there in ósanwe, silently communing with the children of Yavanna Kementári and Oromë Aldaron.

A distant sound roused me from my reverie, and I espied Ioriston entering under the forest eaves and approaching my seat beneath the fernë, and when he drew nigh, he asked, "Quetuvangwe sí ve nildu?"
I smiled at his words, for to my mind this is what I had indeed spent all the morning doing, but I said naught; in part for I did not wish to add to the rumours of strangeness that surround me among the Dorwinions, but chiefly because his mind plainly dwelled on greater things.

At my gesture of welcome, he sat upon the grassy ground beside me and spoke of his concerns. It seems that after I was first discovered bewildered in the vineyards and taken into the House of Healing, there had been much dismay when I told of whence I had come. And though Lord Iavasdir had explained to me that the Men of the East had long been enemies of the Free Peoples, for they came under the dominion of Morgoth in the Elder Days, and were nowadays under the sway of his fell servant Sauron, I had not been privy to the long debate thereafter.

For I am not the first, nor -- I fear-- shall I be the last, thrall of the Shadow who escaped, or was unbound, and then returned to the realms of Men or Elves. Long did Ioriston speak of Húrin son of Galdor, captured at Nirnaeth Arnoediad and cursed by Morgoth, and the doom of Níniel Niënor, his daughter; she upon whom the worm Glaurung used his powerful enchantments so that she could remember nothing that had ever befallen her, nor her own name, and left her to wander in the wild. And he spoke also of those Eldar taken captive during the Siege of Angband and made thralls in the service of the Lord of the Dark, their wills chained to his; and of how he feigned to unbind them and sent them abroad for his evil purposes, and thus if any of his captives escaped in truth, they had little welcome among their kin and wandered homeless and friendless thereafter.

And then my friend accounted for me all he knew of Sauron's doings during this Age... that after the War of the Last Alliance of Men and Elves he fled into the far East to regain his power and strength. And that soon thereafter he built the fortress of Dol Guldur upon the hill of Amon Lanc in Eryn Galen, but after a thousand years he fled again to the East before the might of the Wise, and there he corrupted the Easterlings and forged an alliance between their tribes. But at this time, he sent forth Khamûl to Dol Guldur, and so it is wondered by the Elves, who then corrupted my memory in the East? Was it the Black Easterling, or Sauron the Cruel himself? And for what purpose?

Sauron! Whereas before the mention of that name filled me with cold dread, now it kindled within my heart a hot wrath -- though I was careful not to let this feeling show lest it be thought a taint of Darkness by Ioriston (and I now wonder in dismay if perhaps it is?) So was it also by núlë and not only torment that my mind was broken? Was I indeed cursed by Khamûl, or mayhap by the Dark Lord himself, during my thraldom in the East? And will I too bring an evil doom upon these kind Elves who sought naught but to give me succour?

Methinks perhaps the time is nigh come that I needs must depart this haven, lest my very presence here bring ill upon it and its noble people.