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| Islan |
| Personal Journal |
This was my first lone foray from the safe, familiar walls of my beloved home. Celembril seemed so far away; it might as well have been across the entire breadth of Geas. I did not expect to, but I miss my family, most especially dear Emlan. Though I could not leave the grounds of the Temple without special permission during our regular schooling seasons, the thought that her ear was but an hour's walk away was comforting, in a distant sort of way.
And now, here I am. Our ancient capital, vaunted Thanandir. How pitiful it looks now, this gaping crater with only this lonely village to keep watch where once was the very definition of majesty and power! I can see now why seeing this tableau has such a powerful impact on those who come here. I had not much interest in seeing this place, before. I was content to learn of our history from within the cloister of the Temple. I was content to remain a student for the next hundred years, learning the art that was to be my path in life. I was content to continue to make my mother and father proud of me.
And yet, when Noreil, my history instructor, informed me that after the first five years of schooling, we were free to make this pilgrimage, I felt drawn...led here, it would almost seem. I was keen, as never before, to see the blasted hole which once was our proudest and most sacred land. I did not think, when I left, upon the import of this new desire urging me here, but sitting in this shrine, following my first full day, it seems perhaps that I should have.
And to find here, of all the insults, a human! I cannot imagine a worse insult to the Elven people than seeing a human here, among the ashes which, indirectly, they helped to cause! I am not one of the Common fools who think that this crater was their doing; they would not have had the power, I think, for such devastation. However, had they not embroiled us in a war, I am certain that we would have been much more attentive to the portents preceding this annihilation, as well as having been more prepared to perhaps prevent it, or at the least minimize the damage.
His companions, and I cannot imagine what they were doing by lowering themselves to travel with him, told me that he was their packboy, but this has become patently false. Not only is he dressed as no manservant would, he fights (though I am wroth to admit it) with speed and prowess. I would daresay that his skill with his hands exceeds mine with the blade. However, his mannerisms betray his barbarism and savagery; of this I am certain. It seems, however, that as we shared the dream, I am for the time being harnessed with his odious presence.
The dream. I had not thought such things were possible in these latter days of wistful sorrow. It seemed a thing out of legend, a portent sent straight from the elder times. I saw the city whole, not a phantom as I had seen the day previous, but whole and beautiful, as it was in its days of ascendance. And then I see the robed figure, cloaked & cowled, that I might not see his face. He points down to the crater, for the city is gone once more. I can now make out a cave, made miniscule by distance, as the object to which the hooded figure points. I hear a voice, whether from this being or from another I could not say. "The time has come. I have chosen you. What was hidden so long ago must be found again."
I have little idea as to the meaning or import of this dream, and the words that were spoken unto me, but it had not the sense of an ordinary dream. In any event, the human had this dream as well, so I cannot otherwise merely discount this dream as mere vision in the Reverie. |
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| Associated Regions: Tel-Tenauril, Thanandir |
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| From the journal of Islan Diemyn |
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Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz |
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