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. HE came
in the fullness of his power. Master of Past and Present.
FOR HIM, THE GATES HAD OPENED. . . . ALL DARK
AND SHADOWY THINGS BOWED IN HOMAGE. Thus
went the legend. . . .
For him, the gates had opened. . . .
With a sob, Palin collapsed upon the threshold of the
Tower.
"Feeling better?" Dalamar asked as Palin raised himself
dizzily from the couch on which he lay. "Here, a sip of
wine. It is elven. A fine vintage. I have it 'shipped' to me
from Silvanesti, unknown to the Silvanesti elves, of course.
This was the first wine made following the land's
destruction. It has a dark, faintly bitter taste-as of tears.
Some of my people, I am told, cannot drink it without weeping."
Pouring a glassful, Dalamar held the deep purple hued liquid out to
Palin. "I find, in fact, that even when I drink it, a feeling of sadness
comes over me."
"Homesick," suggested Caramon, shaking his head as Dalamar
offered him a glass. Palin knew by the tone of his father's voice
that he was upset and unhappy, frightened for his son. He sat
stolidly in his chair, however, trying to appear unconcerned. Palin
cast him a grateful glance as he drank the wine, feeling its
warming influence banish the strange chill.
Oddly enough, the wine WAS making him think about his
home. "Homesick," Caramon had said. Palin expected Dalamar to
scoff or sneer at this statement. Dark elves are, after all, "cast from
the light" of elven society, banned from entering the ancient home-
lands
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