As a child, I would be the first to announce spring was coming each January.

Alone in the woods of Doriath, I would oft run off alone. There hidden amidst the trees I had created a small alter atop the remains of a felled tree. I would steal away with candles tucked in my girdle and a few small talisman. After arranging them on my altar, I would feel at peace with nature, as though I had given something back. It was my own expression of adoration to Her. In those woods in my time of meditation, I felt I was part of the wind and trees and stars. I was all that was. The ancient words of wisdom came to me. "Nuk pu nuk. I am, I am."

As I thought back on this, I lay in the long grass beneath the canopy of leaves. The sunlight came streaming through and painted a confusing pattern on the green. Huan lay beside me, protectful and true. I could sense that all through his body, right down to his tale, he was still and perceptive, absorbing the unseen vibrations that may tell of danger only hounds can sense, hearing every infrasonic wave that passed my hearing range. It all came flooding back to me, the quest I was on. What was I doing here, ‘neath the trees? I was bound by my fate to go forth.

Beren had left, not wanting to drag me into further danger or peril. That was not his to decide.

I ran from out the serenity of the woods to where he stood, singing of the pain he bore at the thought of leaving me. I would not be parted! I would not be left behind! In desperation, I sang back.

"Sorrow naught, for still doth lie

Resignedly within the sky

The stars in Heaven’s fond embrace

In their frosty, lonesome grace

Untouchable, and burning clear

That hang above us all the year

Though darkness cries with voices fell

The stars above forever dwell."

So singing I ran to him, Huan following nimbly beside me. "Beren!" I cried, "Wouldst thou leave me now?

He sighed. I could see the pain in his eyes, the feeling of regret and sorrow. "I would die ‘ere I left thee forever. Nay, my love. I cannot take you with me. I cannot bring you to peril that hath no end."

I felt the fire of my sekhem rise within me. The foresight of my kindred washed before my other eyes, and I saw. The spirit warning flashed again, and the haunting feeling welled within my heart. "Death," I said with a wavering voice, "If that be what we are led to, is not the end of all things. Even if that be our fate, you could not stop it. I was doomed to die." I shook as I spoke these words, yet they were true. "I will follow you to the end. I will not be a lost soul, forever departed on a journey that will not rest. Our fate, Beren, it is written in the stars." And I then smiled. "You are bold indeed to believe you can re write that!"

I was no longer afraid, not even to die. At last I understood. Fate cannot be undone, and so I would meet mine knowing it is meant to come to pass. This world is not the true one, and departing from it is only the end of the beginning, and the beginning of the end.

***

How blessed is life. Eowyn, Lothiriel, and I. Three. The sacred number. We danced upon the hilltop in the dying light, our filmy garments loose to the wind. We were part of the earth and felt it at that time, the time when we disappeared as we did each year for a time, to weave our magick, and remember. We were sisters. Sisters of the moon.

The creation of life. Coming forth by day from night. Our clear laughter rang out o’er the hills as we danced. We seemed spirits of the elements, with flowers in our hair. In a world of sorrow, it was all we could do to remember that each one of us was sacred.

At length the dying life-blood of the sun washed over the sky, and the fire was softly put to rest by the waters of Elbereth. We lay in the long grass and looked above at Heaven’s vast expanses. Lothiriel sighed. "Can you feel it?" she asked. We looked over at her. "What, wine min?" Eowyn asked. "The whole of Arda feels as though it were tilting." Her eyes held her wonder as they gazed out with an ethereal countenance. Lothiriel’s eyes were strange to behold. They were deep grey, yet were shot with hazel in the center that fanned out like stars. She was beautiful and wise and full of mirth, yet she seemed as though she wanted nothing more than to spread her wings and fly away. She was right.

"Everything spins, out into eternity" Eowyn said. I pointed to the stars. "Like they who repose in bliss. Unknown universes, spinning on forever." A confused look came over the Shielding’s face. "I thought stars were the glimmering souls of those gone past." I smiled. "They are." "Wait," said Lothiriel, "I do not understand. How can they be both?"

"They are stars, yes," I explained, "yet they are also souls. They represent the spirit world and all it’s inhabitants on the other side, the world we cannot see.Everything in the Spirit world is mirrored in the Physical. As above, so below. In any case, are we not, in ourselves, small universes?" Lothiriel nodded. "The parallel universe," Eowyn sighed, "I know well of it’s tricks and pain, and of it’s beauty. It is as though…I cannot explain, it is like looking in a mirror, and putting yourself in the position of the reflection."

"Yet what of Earendil?" Lothiriel implored of me. "What of the star sailor?" Eowyn smiled, and her amber-grey eyes, like those of a wolf, shone in the starlight. She knew full well. "Yes, Aefensteorra, tell us of your grand father." I sighed. "Well, Scyldinga, leof min, this will I tell. What you see is not Earendil, nay, it is just the Evenstar, a distant planet in Varda’s keeping. Yet that is the light he carries.

"Earendil is a mariner, a lost soul on his way back to the undying lands. The ship is his funeral barge, like those others who have been sent to their end in such arrangements. He carries a light to guide others, a beacon for those who also make the journey. Yet his is not yet done. He sails the mirror side of the sky, trapped in the parallel world, the world of spirits."

"And how long will he be on this journey?" Lothiriel questioned. I smiled. "As long as time is."