Four Times Nelyo by Robinka

Undertow

Brand new one.

There are many things that have remained the same, just as I remember them. Especially in Valinor, where time is of no importance and the memories of my kind are cherished for elsewhere we are only ghosts of the distant past. The softness of the grass underneath my palms, the mellow light of the early afternoon, the rich taste of the wine, and the mischievous glint in Fingon's eyes when I look upon him – everything seems the same, though the tingling in my right hand is somewhat new to me.

Nothing is forgotten – even I, one of the damned.