The Last Dreamwalker

The Legend of the Dreamwalkers

Fact becomes rumour, rumour becomes tale, tale becomes legend.

This is how the stories of old were told now, in the near end of the Third Age of Middle Earth. The stories of old were just that, stories. Put into children's books and told around campfires for entertainment. Stories originally riddled with death, danger, witchcraft and all manner of dark things, twisted into fairytales for casual talk. Thrown around and mixed up tirelessly until there was hardly anything left of the old tale.

The important tale.

The story that could have changed or saved someone's life but left forgotten about. Commoners will do as they will.

Yet some of us will never forget but those of us who remember are few.

This story begins before the First Age, before any age at all on the Valinor.

The great Valor were accumulating suitable elves and elleths to send out, giving a select few special gifts such as foresight and healing.

One, only one, particular elleth received a power that, to this day, remains too complex to be explained in full detail. Besides, one can only understand what the gift is like by actually possessing it.

Eärwen Nénharma was her name and she was given the gift of Dreamwalking. It seemed ludicrous to the other elves. It had never been heard of and it was most likely unimportant and insignificant.

They payed no mind to Eärwen, even scoffed at her and mocked her, as the group traveled for Middle Earth. It would not matter what effects her power had in the end, they decided, and so they were ignorant of Eärwen's special skill.

Things were already tense on the little boat with so many people.

On sea, people changed, elf or no.

As the majority of the population ignored Eärwen's very existence, she grew angry.

Soon people found they were having nightmares and that everyone knew everyone else's deepest fears because of the mutterings in the night, the fears had blossomed from the nightmares.

They discovered that around Eärwen, their emotions seemed to be out of their control and the only one not suffering any symptoms was the freak Eärwen herself.

The elven people became suspicious of her and therefore further isolated her. This made her even more angry, the dreams seemed to worsen, and soon no one dared to close their eyes or even daydream.

A drunken elf, too tired to control himself, drifted off to sleep one day.

Everyone left him alone, curious to see the results.

The next morning, to everyone's horror, they found the young man burned to death. His face was waxy, no sign of struggle, and no scorch marks to prove he had been burned.

An elf by the name of Elendil Eledhwen had had enough.

He confronted Eärwen none too inconspicuously. He demanded of her what exactly her powers were and what she could do with them.

Then, Eärwen explained under pressure of torture.

Elendil accused her of witchcraft and proclaimed that, by law, she would be tested to see if she would float in water. The people agreed, their suspicion, exhaustion, and anxiousness making them the most careless they had ever been.

They didn't care if a life was at stake, as long as somebody paid.

Eärwen, though she was guilty of murder, wept as Elendil had her shackled. She claimed she would cure everyone and give them all good visions.