February 29, 3019

At sunrise this morning a terror took over me.  I suddenly woke in a cold sweat and knew something was wrong.  The terror lingered for an hour or so.  Then a bittersweet jot replaced the terror.  I then knew the Rohirrim had been successful in there search, had fought and been victorious, though with much loss.

I pray they return soon for my uncle is faring worse.  He had aged so quickly.  Much to quickly.  His strength has left him.  He no longer cares for the fate of Rohan.  He seems to care for nothing.  I know not what overtakes him, perhaps some sickness I know not of.  I must watch him fade.  I must watch him slowly depart.  Slowly the lies of Wormtongue creep over him.  He comes to trust Wormtongue more and more every day.  He once ruled the throne with pride and splendor.  A great king of much honor and glory.  Now he unknowingly lets Wormtongue rule through him.  His own power diminishes while Wormtongue's rises.

Rohan needs a savior.  One who will come and restore us.  One who will overcome the lies and treachery that have beset upon us and replace it with the truth and honesty that once reigned.  One who will throw out the cowardice and renew the bravery.  One who will revive our strength and glory.

If there is one out there, I pray he comes quickly.

Eowyn