Disclaimer: Erestor belongs to Tolkien. I just like borrowing him... often.
Author's Note: Dedicated to writers and historians everywhere, for keeping the past alive.
Winter passed, and spring returned to the valley…
Erestor paused. It was his duty to keep a narrative of Imladris, for posterity’s sake, but oftentimes he wondered. Who would read his work? Would not posterity have enough stories of its own?
But then, he mused, did he not pore over every scrap of information about history? Did he not often silently bless scribes who had kept records of ancient civilizations?
Perhaps someday posterity would prize scraps of his words, and the glory of Imladris would be remembered because of them.
He picked up his pen and began to write again.