Like the fade of snow into the summer streams, our days have faded away.
Never again will there be such an innocent light in Eomer's eyes, and
Theodred too; both amongst the dearest of my kin. King Theoden long fades
by the hand of his slithering advisor, Grima. It pains to see my uncle,
though more of a father he is, into such dotage. It seems that the days of
innocent bliss have faded away into the rising darkness. War is bubbling to
the brim, threatening to spill over the lands, ending all peace, beauty,
and maybe even life. I will not see such emptiness. My people and my family
will not become servants to any tyrant. Our people deserve peace. Eomer,
Theodred, and I fight for it, all in our own ways, though all for love of
our king and our country; for it is all we have. The golden hall, that sits
upon the hill, the wide planes, and the dwindling hope of our people guide
us and, maybe one day, bring us to light away from all darkness.