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Anamnesis
A new look at old enemies...
We have returned to the troublesome backwater of Miriath. Rather we have returned to the caverns beneath. Were they only the reflection of the cage that held my family prisoner to the DuVales, even were they merely the haven for the Garanlyon extremists in this world, I could have passed the time here in relative comfort. Revelations, however, do not like us, and they never leave us feeling better about our circumstances.

Even being fully aware of the bizarre backwards nature of this world, it is beyond the pale to see Iarond acting, well, compassionate. He seemed rather perturbed at our description of his reflection in our world; it was equalled only our own incredulity at seeing his caring, thoughtful behavior here.

Ah, but I digress. There were more important personages present in Miriath.

Antarus, for one. How he managed, as a human, to survive as long as he appears to have, in a Tel-Tenauril that is even less tolerant of his race than the one I know, will perplex me for a long time. But my leisure for that particular conundrum will be sparse indeed, for I have deduced, from his look and what he has told us of himself, that in our world his reflection was known to us--as Mortedamos. Here, it was he who was flung from the Kharse and deposited in the Elven lands. He has taken Jacques's place; I would wager Lightbringer that Jacques has taken his.

I shudder to think that Jacques could embody something so repulsive in any world. He was the epitome of all that we consider worthy traits: humility, generosity, thoughtfulness, integrity, constancy, selflessness, service to others...I haven't the words or the paper to list them all. Even more than fear, for I well remember his prowess, I am saddened at the thought that here he exemplifies the opposites of all the strengths of character aforementioned. I refuse to even consider whether I would be able to face him in combat to the death. I can only hope that we have no occasion to visit Curmeah in this perverse world.

This meeting with Antarus seems too pointed for Fortune, too ridiculous for Fate. It makes me almost long for the Chaos Realms.

Teravus was also there, and he at least was changed little. He is terse, arrogant, and suspicious. Not to say that I would not be suspicious of a story such as ours, but he labors to remind us of this at least once every three minutes. I am sure Arilyn was ratehr discomfited by his presence, but he too is merely a footnote.

The one who most captured my attention, awe, and dread was the elder Elf Thanthaelor, the one who gave Jacques a semblance of sight after Threnody had burst his eyes. Would that he were atually an Elf, for he is not and never has been.

Thanthaelor is Aram the Fallen, Angel of Mercy.

Our nemesis, our target, the ultimate scourge of our fellowship and of our entire world, and we met him, met him on our way to Celembril. He restored Jacques's sight, and we never knew. We never had even the slightest inkling. We've known since our conversation with Jerick that Aram was the one who started us on this journey, but now we find that he was aiding us and laughing at us simultaneously. Having his little private joke and snickering behind his hand at it, and at us. It does explain, though, why Threnody paled and fled at the sight of him. I never did, until this day, understand why she would have run from him.

How many other guises has he taken, to keep abreast of our progress, or to provide us with the little bit of help we needed to keep us alive and focused on our prize? Our prize. Ha. His prize, if he has his way. Even if he has taken only this form, how much trouble has he caused under the pretense of good deeds? It chills the heart, to think that an angel, bent on the destruction of our world, excommunicated from heaven, and by all accounts quite mad, could act as a being so calm and so wise. Paranoia looks more and more appealing, the more we learn.

On a side note, I wonder if Primus, the Primus from our world, knows what is happening with us in this world, so that he could record what we do. It is an interesting thought: he knows everything that happens to everyone in the world, so he ought to know what we are doing; at the same time, we are not in our world, which is his purview, outside, in fact, of everything that is known in our home. I shall have to seek him out and ask him when we return.

Associated Regions: Dark Mirror, Tel-Ithilien
From the journal of Islan Diemyn

Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz