A letter to Jenna

[Adriorn Darkcloak]

A letter to Jenna


It has been many years since I last wrote to you, my dear friend. I wish not that you think I had forgotten you. I cannot forget those that have made my life what it is, and me what I am. But I have grown old Jenna, too old. 338 years might seem like many years for most, but for me they passed just as quickly as 38. But in the end, 3 centuries take a toll on any living being.

I was riding to Tethir a few days ago to visit an old little friend and was saddened to hear you were not at home. Montague and I spoke for many hours that night about the old days, but it was not the same without you there as well. But it made me think about things past and things present. And while I at first tried leaving the past behind, all I keep thinking about recently is just that. Things passed.

My cheerful nature has not been present recently Jenna. An old man who looks young is still an old man, and his heart eventually becomes a reflection of his body: old. Sadness, the likes of which I had not felt since she died, has become more a standard now. Montague said if you had been there I would not feel as I do now, but I think he did not understand what I feel. Is it possible that I have outlived my purpose, my use? I dared not bring this up to Montague, for he is old and frail, and I wished him no grief. But I am certain you of all people will understand and empathize with this feeling I so feel.

I remember the days your House was brimming with travelers and adventurers, young and old. I remember stories and bards, riders and explorers. Boblorborm said he had not sensed many people coming to your House, Jenna, and from what I saw during my brief stay, I must believe him. If I arrived gloomy to your home, I left depressed, for what was once, is not now. That is why I write to you Jenna, and not to any other friend.

It has been over a year since my return to the Faerun, although I really never thought I left. But now I do know I left, or it left me, I know not which. I returned with the hope of returning to the life I had before, Jenna, but I was wrong. I returned with the hope of continuing to help and protect those that need it from the wilds of this land. I hoped to ward over the forests we so loved to ride and walk through. I hoped to adventure as I did before. Before…

Before is that which comes prior to Now. It seems this old ranger is not one to take well to Now. The slaying of Icxryslaxixis was a day I shall never forget, but Now has forgotten it. Before, the Reaching Woods offered solace and delight. Now reaching them has been forgotten. I find myself more alone Now than I did Before, Jenna. Do you?

Seeing my daughter took me back to peace, the weeks I spent with her, and I was my old, or rather, young, self again. But I dared not stay and interfere with her life, and I parted ways. I was glad however, for the time I had spent with her, and hope to do so again. I hope to be able to do the same with you, my dear friend, when Time finds you well again. In my old age my friends and family still living are but a handful, and they are like sunlight to my aging eyes. But that sunlight only lasts so long, and then Night returns…

I write to you Jenna in the hope you can give me back just that: hope. An old man grows weary, an old man feels useless and obsolete. Ranger Lord, Warder, Champion of the Lady…no more. Rangers have told me I should retire. I hope you comprehend me Jenna, and I hope you can help. When luck finds you well again, I shall await your reply, and eagerly ride to speak at length. Time, it seems, I have more than I need, but I am needed less as Time passes. I must speak to you one more time dear friend before I leave, and hope you can bring life back to this old ranger.

In my heart,

Adriorn Darkcloak, your Ranger.