On My Own
"Who are you?" Nadia cried, begging an answer from the elusive specter she had been watching for years, the tall hazy figure who wandered the shores by her small ocean-side fishing village, deep blue robes and long dark hair flowing behind him in the salty sea-breeze.
At first she had thought the sorrowful ghosts of songs riding the wind accompanied by the crashing waves to simply be the sounds of the sea, but if she listened, she could hear words.
The phantom sang in a different language, the sounds were foreign to her, but during the long hours she hid behind the dunes or jagged cliffs, listening, she could make out and remember some of the words.
He sang the word 'Silmaril' most often, and 'Feanaro', and 'Maitimo' and 'Ambarussa' in great sorrow and regret.
But then the flowing song would take up a more yearning tone, almost fond, but still very melancholy, and she heard 'Elrond' and 'Elros' many times.
"Please," she tried again, coarse sandy hair whipping across her face in a gust of wind tossed from the waves.
The figure kept walking on, heedless of her cries.
"Nadia, who are you talking to?" her mother's voice called from the open door of their hut, sounding mildly concerned.
Nadia turned her head to answer, but could not think of what to say, what she could possibly say that would not distress her mother further.
She turned her head back towards the phantom again with a sigh, only to behold a desolate, chilly coast.
She was on her own again, though a moment before she knew he had been there.
But if she closed her eyes, she could still catch his mournful, hauntingly beautiful voice, carried on the wind.
ok this one was just a little weird...O.o