In the beginning of Summer, I walked across a bridge, passed a river in the early hours of a misty morning, and I wondered why my fate was taking me there . This year the spring storms had been unusually frequent and strong ; night and day the rain came for three days. I moved from place to place, asked to locals, visited a a few taverns until I was directed to a particular village a few miles away. A few houses built part of logs part of stone, a small market and a tavern by a river. The place was unfamiliar to me and I was glad to take the east road again after my duty was done. I am back in town, renting a small room above the bakery. I am glad there was no lodgings available at The Prancing Pony...the place has been incredibly crowded and noisy in the last few days.
I am old. Not just a bit old, I am ancient and this is a feeling I had all my life. I liveset to a proper time so to find my way through the passage of the days, weeks, months, and years. Time is however not that important for the journey inside me. he was sent to me to be here in a particular hour of my life. Perhaps I met him before. For I was and am ready to learn. Memories are forming, things that maybe were forgotten do re-appear. Each thread and each single stitch are part of our ancient tapestry, and the older I grow the more I can see of the tapestry which was not started when we were born but long long before that. In this life there is light and there is dark....one cannot live without the other. Light is what dress the dark and make it look wonderful and special. Dark is what cover light in safe slumber . Both are special, both necessary, both unique.
A beautifully handwritten note that was kept between the pages of Morgayn's diary is there no more
