Handë Vanwa

A blue ball floats in the air, giving off a soft light as Anya sits on her bed, the window closed against the rain pounding on the glass with Tal curled up and gently snoring on his cushion on the floor. Quietly she sits crossed legged on her bed, staring at the worn journal in her lap, hesitating to open it.
She knew it was past time to rehash and face all the past lives Raellir helped her to journal through, but the idea of doing this alone was overwhelming. They had hoped by keeping track of each life and the various details they learned, perhaps the pair could gain enough understanding to allow Anna some peace with who she had been. Instead, they had eaten at her, leaving her more certain she was broken and unredeemable. When they finally left for Evereska, she decided to leave the journal behind, hoping that the act of walking away from it would magically make everything better.
It had not. Twenty-one years later and she still hadn't attempted to face them, relying on Tal to help calm her down when remembering became too much.
That had to change. Even if tomorrow was it, she owed to to herself to face them, to be a better example for the future of her soul.
Taking a deep breath, she begins flipping through the pages, stopping here and there to reread an old note or comment written on the side left by Anna or Rae. As she does, some of the names stand out to her more than the others - Aredhel Aeraagamae, Elyel Sharondalan, Iririen Dlaralthor, Neladrie Aldarina, and Laserie Cromelon among them.
A shiver runs down her back as she reads the last one. Reaching out, she runs a finger over the name, remembering many painful, disturbing nights of following alongside Laserie, especially in the temple. Her open hand clenches into a fist as the memory returns, watching the senseless murders, the dwarves falling to her silent blade, the priests within the hall desperately diving away from the rainbow erupting from her hands, and watching many become overtaken by fire, poison, and lightning. Forced to walk alongside her as she steps on or over the bodies, a look of glee on the face that most closely resembled her own, and all for some magical artifact.
Anya closes the journal, unable to continue, and begins her breathing exercises to calm herself - staring into the black, rain filled night as she does.
Breathe in, hold, breathe out.
Repeat.
And repeat.
Again.
And again.
A few minutes pass, and as she calms, conversations and happier memories begin to come back to her - her mother holding her as she reminds Anna she is not alone; her father teaching her a song about strength and hope, even in the face of uncertainty; Rae at her side, holding her hand in silence as she processes the night before; Sikander suggesting she take up a crusade to rid the Sword Coast of the evil within it. As Sikander comes to mind, her gaze shifts from the black, rainy night to the sending stone that had gone off just before she settled down on her bed - she couldn't help but begin to smile.
Looking down again, she turns to a very specific page near the front and quietly rereads the note there. The reminders her mother, father, and Rae had left her.
You are not defined by the past.
You can choose to be different - their paths and choices are not your own.
Learn from their mistakes - let their folly be for your gain.
Rereading these, she grabbed her quill and added a couple of Sikander's favorite things to tell her. As she did, she noticed a small note near the bottom.
In her mother's handwriting, she read:
"I have longed to take these from you, to spare you the pain I can see they cause you. I pray you find this one day, my daughter, and accepted yourself and your own path. Last night, before you left, you asked what would happen if you fall or fail. Let me remind you here, for all time, my beautiful Anna -
What happens if you fall?
My dear, what if you fly instead?
Don't be afraid, trust yourself, because you are destined for great things."
Finishing her writing, Anya takes the journal in both hands and stares at it for a long moment, feeling a little more at peace as she realizes she had fallen, and was finally finding her wings. "Hanta ioreth. Let's see how far I fly tomorrow."
Dimming the driftglobe, she tucks it away and settles into her trance, focusing on a beach a couple days north as she drifts off....
 
Title: (Understand that which has passed)