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Aedon Durreah
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Tá mé ag mothú meáchan na mblianta fada orm.
Ritheann mo laethanta le chéile agus téann mo smaointe go deo chuig mo thine féin.
B’fhéidir go bhfuil sé in am athrú a dhéanamh. ~Aedon



((I am feeling the weight of the long years upon me.
My days run together and my thoughts forever turn to my own fire.
Perhaps it is time to make a change. ~Aedon))



Last edited by Aedon Durreah on 2022/02/02 12:57 am; edited 1 time in total


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I am not sure what is going on with me of late, but I find myself dissatisfied with life in general. It is not a lack of things to do, for in truth there is always something to do, and more to plan. But I find no pleasure in the day-to-day happenings. Many days I feel as though I am adrift on a vast sea with no oars, and no stars to guide me if I had them.

It is not uncommon for me to lose interest in things. In my lifetimes I have been moved from place to place, existence to existence more times than I can count. Never having the time to settle in to one place before being uprooted and cast into some other life has taken a toll on me. And I find myself searching for meaning or some thing to anchor me to this place. I feel as a caged animal pacing back and forth before the bars that constrain me, ready to pounce on anyone in order to gain my freedom.

I have spoken to Nemira of this, and her advise is as it always has been.

Is there really something or someplace you seek my son, or is it rest from thy labors you desire?

I have no answer for her. I am unsure myself of what it is that will ease this feeling of not belonging that eats away at me. I have been in this place for some time now. Perhaps I need a change of scenery? Or will such a change only bring me further dissatisfaction and throw my mind into further disarray?

Perhaps some time aboard the Tide will help clear my thoughts. Perhaps it is there that I will find my answers and discover where my next path lies.


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"Where in the world is that book?"

Searching frantically through all the shelves and cupboards, Aedon became a bit more out or sorts as each area upturned did not produce the tome. It was not as though it were an important book, but it was his favorite one. He recalled many happy nights sitting before the hearth in Connemara thumbing through the pages and pausing from time to time to read a favorite passage. He moved noisily through the house, searching, and from time to time cursing aloud as the book failed to be found. Most nights he would have taken more care, but with Greyylene away again, he did not have to worry about waking anyone up.

At this point, the plan was to depart Sunday evening sometime. This would be after a meeting of the officers of the Lonely Mountain Band. He wanted to leave sooner, but could not forego this meeting. In a way, he thought-it is good that I am putting this off a few days. Perhaps that feckin book will show itself by then.

Just before screaming to the heavens, Aedon decided to instead make a cup of coffee and relax for a bit. Rest, then get a fresh eye on things. Carrying his cup of fresh brew, he made his way to the chair before the hearth, and sat down. He had just taken his first deep sip when he happened to glance up at the mantle to discover the wayward book just lying there.

“Well now, there you are” he said rising, going over and snatching up the tome. Holding the book close to his chest he sat down, took another sip of coffee and settle back in his chair.

“All is in readiness now.”


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Journal Entry—whatever today is.



Most of my belongings have already been sent to the Tide. Well that which I intend to take along. The last bag I will carry myself as much of which I have placed within is precious to me. I am taking this time to have one final cup of coffee before I make my way to the docks and board the Celtic Tide for my journey. I found it is hard to decide what to take with you when you are not at all sure of the length of the voyage. But anything I need past my packings I can buy at a port of call along the way.

Nemira has asked for a destination, but I have none. This is not a trip to tend to some special situation or to pick up an item needed at home. This is a voyage of the spirit intended to help calm my racing thoughts and revive my weary soul. Yes, I suppose in some manner It is a selfish trip I embark on. But rarely in many years have I done something for myself alone. And in truth, I need this time. The future to me is becoming harder to see, and I have over the years depended on far-sight to help me plan my moves and better serve others.

One cannot defend against a foe one cannot see.

The sun is rising now, and I hope that somewhere far at sea Greyy is looking with hope to the new day. I know I razz her about her crew of Hobbit Pirates, tell her I do not trust the scallywags. But in truth, I trust them with the one thing that means more to me than life itself. And know full well that while they are at her side, she will always return home to safe harbors. I have left a letter for her so she does not worry about me. I am in the care of my crew for now, an hope to see home again soon.

I have tarried too long now.
It is time to depart.


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It has been good to once again sit before my own fire in Connemara. I had forgotten the pleasures to be found within such a simple thing, and it occurs to me that with each passing day I am finding myself relaxing into this life that somehow, I had let slip away.

Reading this journal has filled in many things for me, and told the story in full of how I came to be here so far from the forests of Yew. It is not a bad life here, but I would be deluding myself if I did not admit that I miss the feel of the Glade beneath my feet.

At least I know for sure that I left the city in good hands. And that the Knights Rest is thriving even in my absence. I wonder though, what it would be like to sit in the tavern again and listen to the stories spoken and share in an adventure or two with those I once called friends.

Nemira has made helped me plan the visit. Nothing too long, as I know I have my duties here to tend. The plan is to make the voyage near the end of this month so I can attend the Tavern on the first of November. Then if all goes well, return without anyone knowing I left.

I am looking forward to this trip. A chance to see old friends, and perhaps fill in some of the missing pieces of my memories. There are some names in this journal I have no memory of, and yet, they seemed to have at one time been a big part of my life.

For now, I will enjoy my fire, my solitude and the utter sense of peace that is to be found within the walls of Connemara.


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It has been an odd year for sure. Many things have changed for me. Some came as a surprise, but there were a few that happened as I was always sure they would. Home has become more a stopping point for me. A place to rest between my wanderings. And I have noticed, the urge to wander stronger now than it has ever been in my life

I knew from the start that bringing Izzy here would in the end, lead to heartbreak and loneliness. Not because of her, but because of the changes that had to take place. Izzy could not pass the barrier as she was. Her life was tied to Sosaria. But she wanted to come, and I, in truth, wanted her with me.

At times now I wonder if Nemira knew what she was making at the time. If those forces brought together by her was her way of assuring in time, that I would find myself along once more, and ready for what was to come next.
I hoped it would not be so, convinced myself that the lady lying beside me at night was indeed the woman I loved. But there is more pirate than lady to be found in Greyylene, and my Izzy died years ago on the deck of the Tide. I wonder, if I could go back in time, knowing all I know now, if I would have remained on Sosaria. At least then, I would still have her.

I do not begrudge Greyylene her life. And in fact admire her wild spirit and brash ways. She is who she was intended to be. Is there any of my Izzy buried deep inside her still, or has she fully become Captain Greyylene? This, I suppose, can only be answered by my mother, and she is not inclined to make things clearer.

It is a good thing I am kept busy these days. Between the music things I tend, and running for Governor of Yew once more, I have less time to dwell on what once was. But at night, when I close my eyes to sleep, I can still see her gracefully dancing in the moonlight.


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It was something he knew he had to do, but in all truth, he was unsure how to broach the subject with her. Bima was old enough of course to understand the give and take involved in any relationship. But he had to wonder of his silence on the subject when she was around might be confusing to her.
Above all, he valued truth. In life, in love. But he also understood that in any break up no one party could claim innocence. He and Greyy knew how to push one another’s buttons. And often did so. But things had become to change between them in the past six months.
It was not a sudden thing, but more a drifting of hearts. And when they did argue, where once they might have walked off until the other cooled down, he found he was all too often wishing for his freedom from the relationship. And he was sure, that she felt the same way. And he found himself unable to trust her any longer.
The relationship ended on more of a whisper than a shot. A simple this is not working any longer was all he had to say. He had hoped to remain friends, and in time, once the wounds had healed, that might be possible.
But though the marriage ended, and he wished her well, they still had Bima to consider. And so, sitting down at his desk in Connemara, he wrote a note to his daughter.

Dearest Bima,
I know that right now things may seem odd to you. That you must wonder what happened, and why it is your mother and I no longer share the same home. And in truth, all I can say on that subject is that in life, sometimes adults grow apart. And when that happens, trying to stay together serves only to poison the sweet memories. And I have many of those.
Among my dearest memory is the day we adopted you. You brought a spunk and exuberance into our lives that never ceased to make me smile. And I will always love you, as will your mother. Though our union ended, we will both always be here for you dear girl.
It is my hope that in time, you will understand that things do now always work as we may wish they would. But that our first concern will always be you.
If ever you wish to talk about things, come to me, and ask what you will. I will always strive to be completely honest with you. And I know your mother will do the same.
With much love
Pa

Sliding the letter into an envelope, he sealed it, and gave it to Beag to deliver.


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Wiping her hands on her apron, Bima takes the letter from Baeg and thanks him, smiling warmly. "Can ye stay? I can put on a fresh pot of coffee. And there's freshly made cookies on the table." Recognizing the handwriting to be her fathers, she carefully opens the envelope and removes its contents. Reading it, she smiles, "Oh Pa, I know how well how things change. I knew you and Ma were growing apart." Sitting down with a piece of stationary and a pen, she writes a reply.

My dear dear Pa,
I knew you and Ma were growing apart. It is ok. I will still love Ma, she'll always hold a special place in me heart, but tis you that is dearest to me. I hope to come visit ye in Connemara sometime soon, when I get a break from my trade route down the Brandywine. I'm tradin' rum and salted fish fer hides and cloth such as the folk in Buckland request. Brings in good coin. Round trip takes me about two weeks, as I spend time with some relatives I discovered in Clegar. Folks there have kinda funny soundin' names to my Buckland ears, but them my name prob'ly sounds strange to them, too. I hope Shakes'll make the trip with me sometime. He's turned into quite a homebody lately, other than goin' out ter concerts and such. I'm grateful fer Ma fer teachin' me how to maneuver a boat. My little rig must seem like a bathtub to her, but it gets me from point a to point b and back safely. I wish Ma well in whatever she does and will always love her, but I guess I've always been a Daddy's girl. Always will be.

Love you SO much,
Bima

Smiling, she folds the letter, and inserts it into an envelope and seals it. Turning to Baeg, she hands him the letter and asks him to return it to her father.


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Aedon Durreah
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He had barely had the chance to finish his coffee when Beag returned carrying the letter from Bima. As he read her words he smiled softly. It was clear from the words on the paper that his daughter was indeed both wise and gentle. Pirate though she be. Asking Beag to stay a moment, he sat back down, and took up his pen.

My dearest Bima,
I suppose I tend to forget from time to time the level of your maturity. And I know that you will continue to love your mother and I as we move thorough what is to come.
I am pleased to hear your business is going so well, and I look forward to hearing all about it when next you visit Connemara. I will have your room all set for you.
With love,
Pa


Sealing the letter, he handed it over to Beag.
Please return this note to Bima, and perhaps, stay for a cup of tea with her.
Taking the note, Beag hurried out the front door and down the walk towards the Bay.


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Looking up from putting the finishing touches on some salted fish and seeing Beag at the door, Bima waves her hands from her place in the yard by the small stream trickling through her yard where she salts the fish. "I'm over here, Beag! Is anything wrong? You're back so soon. Time for a pot of tea?"

Leaving the fish to cure, she makes her way to the door, smiling a warm greeting at Beag and takes the letter from him. "Come on inside and have a pot of tea and some pie."

Washing her hands at the sink, she fills the teapot with water, then places it on the stove to boil while getting the freshly made pie from the windowsill where it was cooling. Placing the pie on the table, she turns to fetch the sugar, cream, plates, teacups and saucers, and arranges them on the table.

Only when the tea is properly poured and served does she sit to read the letter. Smiling, she takes out her notepaper and pens a response.

"Dearest Pa,
I am very happy to hear from you so soon. I hope to visit you when I return from my trip to Swanfleet next week. I would very much like to spend some time with ye. It's been a long time since I've been in Connemara. I really love spending time there. It is so nice and peaceful there. Hope we can enjoy each other's company. Have a little Father/daughter time.

Love you so much,
Bima"

Folding the paper carefully and inserting in the envelope, she smiles at Beag. "No need to hurry. Set awhile and enjoy your tea."


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Aedon Durreah
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Life is a funny thing.
We throw ourselves head long at it hoping to find happiness. And yet, when time after time, all seems to crumble around us, we strive to maintain the optimism of our youth, and try yet again. This has been my way through years uncounted, and in truth, I have come to understand that hopes and dreams are for lovers, and not for one such as me.

It is not that I do not desire, or feel love. Love for family, for those close to me. A true friend, a Kin mate. But only two times in my life have I known love, and both times, I lost it. It is though, for the sake of these two great loves that I still believe in the power it has over us. It can change us for the better, raise us to heights unthinkable. And the next moment sends us crashing into the depths of despair.
But despair is a place I choose not to dwell.

For tonight, I have come to this place, this world, to reflect, remember, and let go of the past. It is not to take a walk once more along the paths of my home. To smell the sweet grass and feel the welcome rising up from the ground. I do enjoy time spent here, before my own fire. But need and circumstance beckons me elsewhere. And for now, home is something that must travel with me in much the same was a memory does.
Leaving the paths of Yew, I make my way through older lands, and towards a spot well known to me. Many nights I sat there, watching in reverence and respect. It is a spot off the beaten track, but known to many. A short distance SE of Blighted Grove, is a circle of columns. The relationship between the columns, and the Wisps who call this area home, is unknown. But I am drawn here this night, as I have been many nights in the past. It is a peaceful spot to those who come there with good intent in their hearts.

I can feel that they are watching me as I approach. I pause, just outside the circle and remove my shoes and shirt. Then stepping carefully into the moonlight which illuminates the area, I bow once and then begin to dance. Slow and steady time moves on around me, and from time to time, I can see a graceful form, her white hair falling gracefully over her ebony shoulders, moving in unison with me, matching me step for step.

And closing my eyes, I feel her presence, and remember.


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