Shut the walls away, close the eyes and dull the senses of sight and sound. There is nothing here in this room, this place, to comfort me. Nor in memory - I push Araenion and Vallandur away in my minds-eye. I float, aimless, like petals on water, spindrift. Foam riding on the ebb and flow of the sea.
The sea of my home calls, and in a moment, I am there. I ride the stong breeze coming from the western sea over Mithlond. But the sea calls stronger, and in the utmost west I fancy I see a flash of white .... gulls around the furthest island, snow on the everwhite mountain...
But in mind, I cannot sail... and in my mind's eye there are no ships waiting for Celebhir, no movement in the Mithlond of this imagining. I see no familiar, dear faces. Nothing stirs.
Over sea, over land, no Men, no Eldar. The trees break out in leaf, the flowers bud and bloom, shadowed shapes in the half-light before dawn. Is there no one awake? Is there no one who recalls me, even in this world of dream? Where are the watchers, the ever-wakeful guardians of the world?
I tumble onward, over river and forest, searching now, panic rising. I am forgotton in waking and in the dreamlife of elves ... Mithlond, Annuminas ... it is as though the world is an empty stage...
Mithlond, Annuminas,Vallandur's Camp ... swifter now, and falling ... the home of all lost travellers breaks open its hidden vale. Imladris.
And I see... like a single star breaking above the horizon, one life. In all the lands, one stranger. He stands alert, on the apex of the high arching bridge, the waters soundlessly tumbling beneath him. Does he hear me?
The breeze washes over him, the dawn light paints his dark braided hair rose-red with blood.
