Lirimaer,

Reverie has brought little solace to my heart and spirit, neither have the spring rains of the last few days washed away the burning pain of my thoughts from the other evening.  Meditations and prayers to Lorien and the rest of the Valar bring no hint of my next steps.  The last few days I have been exploring the village of the Hall on the Hill, and the surrounding countryside.   The residents acknowledge my presence, but only in the Proud Horse Inn is there any sort of camaraderie and spirited fun.

I am restless to do something, almost anything.  My body has healed after the last fight, I have meditated and studied and mended clothing and weapons.  I have even sat for hours watching my dwarven compatriots work the hearths of their forge, at once completely different and yet simultaneously reminiscent of watching father as a young child.  Alas, I know not why all these memories are the ones bubbling to the surface, but I am at a loss as to how I should pursue my objectives next.  Never have I stayed in one place for so long as I have these last few weeks.  My impatience grows ever more difficult to suppress and there is no clue, no hint, no instinct to proceed.

It has been several days since my foolish action in pursuit of magical knowledge, and I should find a way to apologize to Adelaide for my rash judgment.  Fortunately, she has been busy with her pursuits, and I have not seen her, and hopefully she is not specifically avoiding me.  I may approach her sister soon, who is frequently in attendance at the inn.  She entertains occasionally, and she has a powerful voice.  I think she reminds me of you, lirimaer.  Perhaps that adds to my melancholy, the superficial resemblance of her hair to your russet locks, combined with the almost magical quality of her music.  I almost wonder if there is more to her voice, something I am sure you would be able to easily determine.

I am torn asunder by these reminders.  Beautiful reminders of days gone past with you and our families, beautiful music that tears at my spirit and rips open the wounds of our last meeting, that carves another piece of my soul as I long for a return to your embrace.  Duty, lessons of duty to our nation, our family, our Gods, all learned too well at your father’s side, combined with my youthful arrogance that I, Elyrienne, would be the one to finally discern the prophecy, return the OioKalina to our island’s shores.  No wonder there is darkness in the histories of Edhel e’Tua a’L OioKalina Vakhan.

Ah, this sedentary month weighs on me.  I must not remain here much longer without some evidence that the prize is nearby.  I must overthrow this bitterness, and perhaps return to my arrogance to fuel my visions and lead me to the light, so that I may return to you in the fullness of time.

Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’ —–Elyrienne