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She could hardly think of anything new to sing. Surely Liornung or one of their new companions would have a better song – a happy song. The only song she could think of was the one from her dream. It was hardly a cheerful song, and it had haunted her since the woman of her dream had sung it to her in a beautiful, melancholy voice. What would the new companions think of her?
“I fear I have nothing happy to sing,” Bellyn murmured softly to her friends. She looked over her shoulder to Liornung. “And I fear that I could not write a song like Liornung could.”
“That is well, Bella,” Argeleafa replied, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “We shall let Liornung sing us a song next.”
Bellyn smiled at Argeleafa, though she had hoped to shift the attention to someone else.
“All right,” Bellyn agreed, nodding. “I warned you, though. I have naught but sad songs left to sing!”
‘Agony,
Can you cleanse this misery?
For never again will I breathe,
The air of home…
Bellyn’s voice came softly, slowly, as she tried to recall exactly the way the song had been sung in her dream.
‘…From this sandy edge,
The rolling sea breaks my revenge.
With each whisper – a thousand waves
I hear roar.
I am coming home…’
She let the last word die on her lips, to be carried away by the careless wind. She felt better, releasing the tune and melody from her heart and mind. The song had been stuck in her head since she had dreamed of the fair-haired lady singing it to her.
“I feel, then, that it is Liornung’s turn to cheer us with a happier song,” Bellyn said, reaching for Nethwador’s hand and grasping it.
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