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Melancholy.

As the elves have withdrawn from the world, I have withdrawn from them; I have cloistered myself within the Tower of Voices. Only the lords and ladies of the eight largest families are permitted entry, so that I might instruct them. Their clans remain healthy - it is starting to work. I must prepare the elves to live in this world without me - once they are weaned, I intend to leave. Each of the clans must find their own place within a new elven society, becoming more reliant on each other for their survival, and less on my guidance. The family I find myself most concerned with is the Iorwerth. Their talents for hunting and killing are necessary for the survival of all clans. They keep the dark beasts at bay, and provide fish and meat to the other clans. As such, they have more need to venture beyond the safety of the city, and for longer and longer stints. Perhaps they are becoming less dependent on my presence - more so than the other clans. Their lady, when she visits, second guesses me at every turn. Though I desire revenge upon Zaros's murderer, it is not something I would act upon. But she has picked up on this desire, and though she cannot understand the source of it, her thoughts run dark with it. It is perhaps an encouraging sign to see such free thought, but it worries me all the same. I cannot finally free the elves of me only to leave them with an imprint of my darker impulses. I can control them, but they cannot...

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