In the early afternoon, a package arrives in Cirieldis’s office: a small, unassuming box wrapped in basic brown paper and held together with twine. The only hint as to whom sent it is the hand in which her name is scrawled: bold, flowing penmanship. It rattles quietly if shaken, a muffled sound. Whatever is inside has been packaged with care to avoid breakage.
Once opened, the box contains only a short letter and something the size and shape of a small rock, wrapped in plain muslin. The letter reads as follows:
I hope this letter finds you well, as we have not spoken in many months and both of our places in life have changed significantly since then. I found myself watching the sea from my new residence and caught myself reminiscing as to how I came to be here.
My introspection led me to realize that I had never properly thanked you for your role in my coming to Dol Amroth, and for that I must apologize! You were the catalyst for this change of scenery in my life and this change ended up being amongst the most welcome in my recollections. As such, I wish to convey my utmost gratitude.
Enclosed is something small; naught more than a whim, really. One of my current avocations is to walk along the shore and collect shells which ensnare my interest. I have included one whose hues immediately reminded me of a pair of most peculiar boots I first noticed back in Bree. May it bring a warm chuckle and memory to you same as it did for me.
At your service,
The small cloth bundle’s bounty is immediately apparent upon pulling the string wrapped around it: a small, delicate seashell. The intricate wentletrap shape lends its pearlescent purple color considerable luster when the sun’s rays shine through.