Letters in the Sand by Rhapsody

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Starlight/Silme

Some things in my life seemed to be engraved in my soul, I do realise that now when I stare at the sea sand where my feet have drawn letters from my father’s script. Why does this haunt me? Why do I seek forgetfulness when my unconscious self reminds me of what I am, forever my father’s pawn. Why do I etch his sign in the sand, wood, and air? What is my mind telling me? What am I avoiding still? Have I not written the tale of my people? Have I not avoided my own kindred so that they did not have to see my blood stained hands?

Rage/Aha

The audacity of the Valar, who set the blood of my father on fire, became mine when I heard of Eonwë’s arrogant claims to what was ours. Where reason had been mine for ages, now the rage consumed me fully, further inflamed by my brothers truthful words. Where one of the jewels was gifted to all to be seen in the sky, why could not be the other two rightfully ours? I now see how my father’s gifts prevailed over all and lived through us being so near to the camp.

Torment/Nwalme

I remember her betrayal. I remember her anger and the burning of my skin, tendons and refined touch. I remember how her essence shortly mingled with my fëa, the force set upon me, filling my mind with one thing as punishment. The jewel’s spirit taunted me, ripped my already tenuous mind into pieces, while I only knew one way out, to throw her far away from me. When I sensed how the calm water enveloped me, cold stone collided with my knees and my burned hands clutched together while I tried to hold onto my mind, now filled with torture.

Hollow/Unque

Little I do remember of the years past. Little do I remember how I managed to escape the breaking of the lands we all defended for such a long time against him. The moment he was locked away between the Doors of the Night, my whole purpose to be was no longer there and I became this hollow shell. Yet, I am still alive, serving as a living memory of my kin.

Fate/Umbar

But what drives me on still? Why can I not head to the calls from home? What is my purpose still to walk upon these shores? My eyes search the unlimited expanse once more and I find the remaining jewel without any effort. Why am I not blind? What is my accordance in the music? Many questions haunt me still. But I do believe my answer lies on the yonder shore to which I am not allowed to go yet. I first need to understand these letters. Realisation is mine when I look down on the elegantly script drawn by my feet in the sand from the left to the right, exactly how my father taught me to during our days of bliss on Aman. Silently I beckon the tide to wash it away and I realise that I will understand it, one day.




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