𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter One: A Call To Action

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"Trouble is brewing in the most unlikely of places, my dear Elena. Trouble that may speak death and destruction if it is not evaded."

Gandalf took a long and thoughtful pause after saying this, as though debating whether or not to continue, but he instead opted to return to his pipe.

He took in a long drag, and moments later, released a puff of smoke that contorted into a miniature dragon. Though he seemed abnormally distressed, I didn't press him for answers. He would tell me if he felt it was necessary, I could always trust him to do that. We sat in silence as the clouds moved through the sky as though they were immense grey boulders, slowly rolling along in the angry wind. A storm was building in some distant corner of Middle Earth. The smoke of Gandalf's pipe was blown back at us by the bitter wind and I coughed at the chalky odour that lingered as the wind once again fell still. Gandalf remained quiet, taking another drag. All he'd told me of this imminent trouble, was that he was on his way to putting a stop to it. And I was sure that once it was put to rest, he'd tell me of it. So I dropped the subject.

My gaze trailed over the view of Aerith from the boulder Gandalf and I had been occupying all that afternoon and late into the evening, sucking in a deep breath. I couldn't imagine what this kingdom, my home, might look like in only a matter of years. Would this vigorous settlement that had existed for as long as the fae themselves, survive the onslaught of poverty, death, and destruction that would follow closely on the heels of the Uruk-Hai war? I sighed. It would. It had to. Aerith was all I'd ever known, and no matter the cost, I would fight for its prosperity.

Gandalf and I sat in silence for what felt like hours. And that was how it had always been, for as long as our friendship had existed. Whenever the two of us would meet every year or so, what filled most of our conversations was nothing but a comforting silence that didn't need any interruption or small talk, or talk of any significance, really. Just sitting there in each other's company was gratifying enough.

A long while after the sun had sunk past the horizon, Gandalf dropped his claypipe back into a satchel at his waist, and stood, waiting for me to do the same. I did, and the two of us began the short walk back to the castle. The overgrown weeds frisked my exposed ankles, some pricklier plants sending pinpricks of pain shooting through them. As the grass became better maintained and small houses began to dot the landscape, Gandalf and I arrived at a forked path. We paused there.

"Safe travels Gandalf." I said.

He nodded his head, turning and heading down the more obscure path that cut through the forest, and that led out to the docks. I turned as well, taking the narrow path that eventually converged with a wide road that stretched through Aerith and led all the way to the castle.

"Elena," Gandalf called, and I turned back, to find him on the very outskirts of the pine-dominated woods, "Thank you, for not pressing me. I'll be seeing you."

I raised a hand in goodbye, and he did the same, before we both resumed walking down the paths ahead of us. I reached the main road after some time, and walked along it for a while, the clicking of my flats against the cobble being the only noise that echoed through the valleys, mountains, and steadily increasing houses of Aerith. Until another noise that grew steadily louder became apparent. A carriage? I turned, to see a pair of slick back horses pulling a lacquered and opulent ebony carriage. I quickly stumbled out of the way as the fast-moving carriage continued its advance, nearly crushing me flat.

"Hey! Bastards!" I screamed at the carriage's retreating backside, as the wheels turned rapidly, flinging mud in my direction, "Damn it!"

I tried wiping the mud from my dress without success. This was wonderful. My father had told me there was some important meeting underway tonight and that I was to both look and act presentable. And yet here I was, smelling like smoke and forest, and covered in mud. Not to mention late. I sighed, picking up the pace.