Lissenen ar’ maska’lalaith tenna’ lye omentuva

Close of Winter,

My dear sister, I long to share the stories of my travel with you upon my return to Yasa Nalore.  The strangeness of the lands through which I have ventured will provide for endless entertainment and re-telling upon my return. But as I journey through barren and lightly inhabited lands at the close of this fifteenth winter away from the lights and festivities of Yasa Nalore, travel begins to wear thin, and the greyness of this current bitter human infested land weighs heavily on my spirit, and even reverie has tended towards darker memories of youth and training.

I have traveled long and seen many an awesome sunrise, and the beauties of some of the western sunsets astonish your gaze.  Flowers and plants of which I have never before encountered abound, and berries and fruits of wondering taste are many of the alluring gifts of this travel.  They are balanced by the crowding and filth of human communities, the brutality of their actions, their bitterness and suspicion of all strangers, especially those of the fair folk.  

I wonder at the continued mission, and perhaps I have deluded myself into believing that I can solve a prophecy that my brethren have studied for ages.  Arrogance and haughtiness of this current human kingdom of Axana have wounded deeply, and although I am well in body, perhaps my spirit suffers the pangs of homesickness and has allowed doubt to creep.  

I have traveled far, and seen many things, stopping only briefly in even the most urbane settlements of other societies.  Rarely have I stayed more than a week, guided only by instinct and senses of imagery of the Valar, especially Lorien, that guide me, relying upon interpretation of the reverie to guide my next steps.  Occasionally I have fought the greed of others, and rarely a foul beast in the wilds.  For the most, my steps have been peaceful, allowing me to enjoy the spaciousness and beauty of the natural world when I can.  It is wondrous our abilities to be self-sufficient as individuals, as this has allowed me to avoid some interaction with difficult societies.  

My spirit longs for spring, and the fresh budding of new life.  I feel that it is near, or perhaps I hope that it is near.  I know not why this particular cycle of seasons has been more trying, but the drudgery of winter travel proves frustrating and surprisingly boring, even with the stark beauty of a recent snowfall.

Currently, I travel eastward, and there are increasing signs of human settlement, as the farms have become less rare and smoke is more frequently seen on the horizon, and I have recently come upon a relatively well repaired road.  The spirits of Lorien guide me…..and eventually may they guide me home.

 

Aa’ menealle nauva calen ar’ malta—–Elyrienne