My inkwell is rather precariously perched atop a rock next to me, and in the firelight I am every moment in danger of missing it, and stabbing the rock on which I sit with my quill. Perhaps I should give up trying to keep a journal on the road, yet at least Li shall be greatly amused if I manage to spill ink all over myself.
It seems so silly—I have been before without the comfort of books and scrolls and ink and quill, though never have I travelled for so long. Yet to commit to paper the scattered waste of ink that my thoughts are, allows me to sift through them better, almost as if Alphdir were here, to whom I could spill the thoughts of my heart. Oh, I have much to tell you, my love.
I learned much of my companions today. Especially of Glirwing. She is otherworldly—that is the only word I can think of to describe her, though all the lore tells us that the Eldar are bound to Arda in a way we are not. Her feet make barely an imprint in the grass but the flowers lean toward her, and though most are dead this late in the year, those that linger lift up their heads as she passes.
She is more than even I knew, for she is calaquendi, and remembers the light of Aman, the legendary realm of Nargothrond. That must explain why her face shines with moonlight, even on clouded nights.
I am afraid I made rather a fool of myself in my astonishment and questions. For in this age, but few remain of the calaquendi, and it was as if those ruins I study arose in their ancient grandeur before me, and spoke with voice. Yet this is no good comparison, for it is more as if a glorious sunset took on shape, and danced instead upon the earth.
The world is changed, and the West is out of the reach of even our most far-sighted. Not even the smell of it, the heart-stirring sweet smell of flowers undying, can reach us. Yet almost I felt like I stood on Meneltarma, and saw a glimpse of Avallónë shining.
Li told me a little of her siblings—not by blood but bonds of love. She feels herself inadequate to care for them, which nearly broke my heart, for I can see the love she has for them. I would have asked her more, but she grew silent and withdrew to the river. I wonder what she seeks in the north? Home or work or future for them? For I see now it cannot be for herself alone that she travels.
We approach Llanuch, where the only lead I have for your location is, though it has been long since you were known to have passed through there. My heart misgives me in fear, for even in Lhan Garan did I find myself lost in dealing with those people. Someone sought to cause division and harm there, and I do not understand enough to begin to understand or help.
And what if I discover no lead there? I suppose I shall head to Galtrev, but I have no reason to believe you have been there.
I must have estel, even if amdir deserts me. For little enough cause have I for amdir at all, though I try stubbornly to fool myself. If I am completely honest with myself, it is the desperate need to do something to try to help someone I love, and not hope at all that has drawn me this far. You would remind me to look up and remember that I have been set in a great song. And indeed, some chance has brought me aid. Aid from the morning of the world and from these later days alike.
Perhaps I am not utterly forsaken.
