Prologue The untold fate of the Blue Wizards of Middle Earth.... On a dune of white sand lightly flecked with reeds, a tall aged figure of a man sits stooped on a smooth rock. His eyes are transfixed on a small crackling fire in front of him, the flames reflected in his eyes, sparkling like specks of starlight. A few feet beside him, lies a young, tiny figure in a long white tunic. With his large hairy feet warming by the fire he rests his of head tousled black curls on a soft piece of dry driftwood. Entranced, he listens to the old man's words, a story, punctuated by puffs of his long gnarled wooden pipe, his voice in perfect harmony with the whooooshhh....cresshhhhh.....whoooooshhhhh....cressshhhhhhh of the undulating tide and the crest of waves far beyond... During the Forging of the One Ring, five wizards were sent to Middle Earth. Two of them traveled to the east with the task of weakening the Dark Lord Sauron's forces. The fate of Alatar and Pallando the Blue.... both of them blue, whether the succeed or fell, remained shrouded in mystery, until this day...What their story means for you I cannot fully say, for I do not yet know if your heart's longing will remain unchanged after what you are about to hear...