Birth of the Blade

1

I was rummaging in my pack when Gandalf turned to me.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, confused.

"Pipeweed," I replied, my hands scraping the bottom of the canvas before I sighed. "I think I must be out."

"Well, there's much to be found in the Shire." He let out a grumble. "Of course, there's also some in the back."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's yours."

"Ah well, I suppose, given that it's a special occasion." He reached behind me with one long arm and pulled out a small pouch. "Only a little. You can buy more once we're there." 

I grinned. "Well I don't think I'll run out again for a while then."

"Most certainly not, I wouldn't have expected you to get through it as fast as you have." 

I held a finger over the bowl of my pipe and produced a small flame, pulling in a deep breath of smoke. "Of course not Gandalf, but then you always underestimate me."

He turned to me and gave me a look. "Underestimate you? My dear child I have never underestimated you."

"I am not a child and yes you have. You were convinced I would never be able to learn how to make fire."

"Yes, well it is not a skill I, or anyone else, expected you to have. I've told you this, much of magic is innate and given we don't exactly know your parentage it was highly unlikely that you would possess the range that you've shown. You're not a wizard after all." 

"See? Always underestimating me." 

"And you should learn restraint. It's the main skill you have yet to acquire. Using magic for cheap party tricks, I don't know where you get it from." He shook his head. 

I held up one of Gandalf's famous firework from the back of the cart. "Oh, you mean like this?"

"Only a little fun." He winked. "We'll be getting into the shire soon, about six miles I should think."

I tapped the pipeweed ashes out of my pipe and placed it back into my pack. "I think I shall have a little nap then."

"Not too long mind, I want you on your best behaviour today." 

"I'm always on my best behaviour." I placed my cloak behind my head and closed my eyes, letting the trot of the horse and the warmth of the sunlight lull me to sleep.

"He is rising. Out of the depths." A woman's voice.

I am standing on a cliff face, looking down onto dark sands. 

Deep fire builds on a plane of darkness. It billows towards me in great raging waves, the flame cold on my arms. 

A sense of icy dread creeps up my neck. I don't want to turn around. I must turn. I know it. 

I turn.

"Helravae? Ravae? RAVAE!" 

My eyes bolt open. I was sitting upright, my arm gripping Gandalf's sleeve in a tight grip, my knuckles white. I could feel sweat dripping down my back. I was breathing hard.

I turned to look at Gandalf. He'd stopped the cart and was staring at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Gandalf..." I whispered.

"What did you see?" He asked in a low voice.

I shook my head.

"Speak child!"

A tear started to fall from one eye. I wiped it away quickly. "Gandalf something terrible is on the horizon."

"What?"