Cyndwin

I have risen early, slipped into a robe and wandering up to the gleaming Dwarrow Mirror high above Tol Lochul to greet the dawn. Stars are still gleaming in the velvet blue sky as I reach my perch, arrange my implements, and begin to draft this account. 

All my days have been song. Powerful, exultant, discordant, thunderous.

Song gave me light, and brought me darkness. Long days of darkness and refection until I felt a kindred spirit in the haze. I touched him, and learned he called himself Aegrod and he was beautiful and I loved him so and I sang to him with all he had seen and would see, but he was busy and complicated and afraid and not listening. He named me Hastaina in his clumsy, halting speech and sent me away. Away.