journal

I was prepared to head south into Eregion. It was dawn as I rode along the banks of the Bruinen, up the steep slope, and crossed the fallen tree-bridge past the waterfall. Before me the cleft, and the trail I would follow.

Yet I paused. Something was not right; I know not what. Some feeling of uncertainty, of apprehension, had come over me. 

I wanted to press on, but I could not ignore this. I still cannot say what caused me to turn back, but turn back I did, and rode slowly all the way back up the trail to Imladris.

I am nearly prepared to set forth from Imladris again. A few more months, perhaps. My time here has been short, but I have met many friendly folk and sung many songs. 

My only question now remains: where to go? I long to journey south, into Eregion and beyond, but I cannot shake the idea of heading north and west towards Evendim. The men of Esteldin spoke very highly of it, and I have heard there is a small company of elves there. 

Elenya, the 49th day of Tuilë

Barely visible at the bottom of the page are a few scratched-out lines of ink. If examined closely, they seem to form these lines:

Good-night Isil, thou silver sphere,

Good-night to friends both far and near,

Good-night to birds and beasts at play,

And flowers blooming in the day.

For you may close your blinking eyes

And slumber while my mind still lies

Awake, restlessly gazing on

A face upon my memory drawn.

So this is how it goes. It's only three of us left now, just me, Ane, and Patunia. No more friends for me. We're all that's left.

It's me, isn't it? All this time, it's been me. People get close to me or spend too much time around me and then they die. Deordal took her own life, Dworvmur's missing, and now Feridae's gone.

Journal:  Off On My Travels

It's three days now since I left home, (not of my own choosing) and set off in pursuit of that rather arguesome fellow I met in The Bird And Baby. Having enquired about him at the Inn and learnt of the market stall in Bree, which he boasted was the finest boot and shoe outlet in middle earth, I set off on the East road determined to get my money back on these ridiculous boots that he'd talked me into buying.

- - - 

That's all there really is to it!

What in the name of the forefathers happened today?

It is fortunate, then, that I'd resisted and showed hesitation. It is fortunate that nothing became of it.

- - -

I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure of it.

I've seen my bow-master pin a boar between the eyes at forty yards, hunting it as swiftly as possible, giving it little time to feel pain.