A BOOK OF SCROLLS: Baal`yick's Letter

THE BOOK OF REQUIEMS:

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THE greeting of Sear.i.fym was given to all men as a decree from on high is given to lesser men. It was sent out as a call to gather in those who wished to learn the oldest of ways. It was a blessing from those who is to stay and teach what they know, by those who had abandoned the shores of friendship. Nay, not as the Arrogant Ones who sought a higher station apart from them, but as lore masters who sought to elevate men with insightful knowledge and grace.

I, Ba.al.yick, like Searifym and our other spiritual brothers, Ven.du.mar and Le.gan.driel, do likewise herein extend the hand; and press pen to paper, to encourage students all the more. May you, among the people Nasil of Eriduah’s greater east come unto us, you who so thirst for the truth of what matters. We desire to heal Middle-earth’s war-torn lands. Seraphim’s handcrafted scroll letter was but only one of many, which poured forth with words of encouragement.

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FEAST OF LIGHTS

I, Baal-yick called Stormraven do write this at the nearing of my life’s end, in remembrance of our new beginning. Seems as the end draws near so many things come into clearer focus, and the once strongly held are now viewed as youthful foolishness. But for me, Celavacess, The Feat of Lights and Water, it was always dear to me. It was first among our customs.
However, tragically so, we had become like the lesser men, of whom we so desired to remain among, and yet saw ourselves most different from them. We wished to pass on our wisdoms, yet they in turn showed us in clarity first-hand the depth and courage in facing their mortal doom.
Sadly to admit with one another unto ourselves who were called the remnant or Watchers; staying behind after that exodus and great departure, we came to be just like men. Walking through that mortal valley just as they for the grace of elven kind departed as well and we became shadows. Now, only I remain to share the last new light before I too pass from this realm of life.

THE new moon of Yeth.ay.we, [October], marked the very day we remained. It became our New Year’s Day. On handcrafted paper swans, we did place lit candles and set them adrift, toward the twin mountain peaks of the Bay of Luhun. In hopes of following those Eldar fleets unto the Undying Lands beyond the rim of the world; that they would know we would forever remember them. Upon the deaths of those founders, their created remains were kept in a holy Urn, being treasured as a holy relic. Yet, on the eve of Cel.a.va.cess each remaining one of us would take an ever so small pinch of ash from the Urn and scatter after the paper swans. Alas am I all who remain, and soon shall I sail unto them who went before me. We read the requiems of hearts; soon I shall read from The Grey Book of books no more. {The List of Watchers}.

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