I finally found my journal amongst all of the things from the house. I have sold it. It is sad to see friends that were once with me now gone. All I see is where they are not. Rivondir is not by the hearth fletching arrows. Gileryn and Galeryn are not playing out by the fountain. Sylrond is not playing his harp upstairs by the window.
I have accepted the truth that House Halatir lives on in me alone.
