Emanda

Several years had come and gone since the last image of the brunette appeared in his dreams, with her radiating golden hue, yet unfamiliar blurred out features. Who she was and why she appeared in the deep shades of sleep eluded. It would be assumed she was his Mother. Any memory he had of her was lost in his infancy. Any time throughout his life the figure adorned in golden rays appeared, she shone with a warm, consoling and loving light that touched the heart of the deep sleeper. Her face was always an eluding curiosity and a constant fleeting hope. 

Home again! And with it, all the mixed feelings one would expect. A bit of melancholy that our trip is over, and the lazy, idyllic days of self indulgence are in the past. It is time for me to head back to the barrack stables, and back to Neyaa's farm, while my beloved heads out each day with pickaxe in hand. 

I feel a lot more stronger now, a lot more smarter of tactics. I feel like I can be more confident in my skills of combat. Nevertheless, there are things that trouble me.

For one thing, I haven't heard that my friend had gone to the Pony, much less given me a note of something to say what she wanted to talk to me about. I had gone through my routine, though I wasn't used to Bryn and Conrob not being around despite of seeing Bryn earlier talking to Amanda. Though it's only for a few days so I'll make it.

Yesterday was blessedly peaceful and quiet, free of trouble and tragedy. If only more days could be so.