Wired*Nun
28th of July, 2004, 05:09
One of the books Father had brought Roland when he was young was an epic called Lord of the Rings. Although real life turned out to be every bit as magical as the books, still they held a special place in his heart.
About a year ago, it occurred to him while rereading them for the umpteenth time, that he could visit Middle Earth, or at least, something like it. Father said that one could find anything you wanted in shadow. So, leatherbound edition in hand, his favorite gelding Bill (after Sam's pony) beneath him, Smoke in a scabbard on his back, sketchbook in his saddlebags, Roland set out to find Middle Earth.
It took him months to find. He had to tweak and tune for every detail he wanted, reading and adjusting until he felt he got it right. He felt he could have worked on this for a lot more time, as the more one wanted to control within shadow, the more time it took. For example, it was easy to find a shadow with hobbit-like people living in hobbit-like villages. If he wanted to find Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin and all the rest, it could take years.
He was satisfied to explore the Middle-Earth analogue, smoking the pipeweed, drinking the ale, visiting the Elves, Dwarves and Men. He passed easily for one of the Dunedain, the Rangers who roamed the world. He was content for a time.
He decided he would like to explore Fangorn. He wondered what the Ents would make of him. Would they sense his difference? Think him a wizard? Were there enough Real People that had read the books, walked in this shadow, to cause it to be what he wanted? Could he find, and talk to, Treebeard? Perhaps he should go look for the Entwives.
A few days later found him approaching the ancient forest. Isengard should be to his north, as he approached from the south, the civilized lands at the edge of Gondor. In this place, the War of the Ring was long over, at least fifty years by his reckoning. He wondered who held the Tower now?
As he rode nearer he encountered a strange scene.
A dozen wood elves stood near the edge of the forest, staring at another of their number. The one lone elf faced a glowing mass. A burning bush? His education had included Earth's Bible, along with many other ancient books...but this elf looked like no Moses. While the watchers were clad in greys and greens well suited to blend with the forest, the other one had the look of the magus about him. In fact, he seemed to be interacting somehow with the glowing mass.
*****
Observing from a distance, Roland's impression is that the elf-wizard is trying to affect or control the thing in front of him, without much success. In fact, the glowing ball reminds him of bits of the Pattern in a way. He knows from heresay that shadow magic is unlikely to be able to contend with Pattern energy, if that is what it is.
As Roland rides slowly nearer, the others turn to regard him solemnly. As he approaches them to within earshot, the construct suddenly flares and the wizard cries out, flings up his hands, and falls backward. One of the wood-elves tends to him while the rest regard Roland.
Roland holds up an empty palm in greeting and speaks to them in the language of men.
"Greetings, and well met." Before he could go on, he noticed the construct drifting toward him.
It stops about twenty yards away and changes its mein. It forms into something of a...doorway perhaps.
The leader of the elves steps forward, and said in lisping man-speech, "It seems it wants you. It smells of ancient wizardry, but not as the evil so recently banished from this land."
The elf-lord stares at Roland.
"I do not know you. You look like a man, but you are not, nor elf, nor any other of the races I know. What are you?"
Roland realizes the other elves have subtly shifted their stances, imperceptibly readying their weapons for immediate employment.
About a year ago, it occurred to him while rereading them for the umpteenth time, that he could visit Middle Earth, or at least, something like it. Father said that one could find anything you wanted in shadow. So, leatherbound edition in hand, his favorite gelding Bill (after Sam's pony) beneath him, Smoke in a scabbard on his back, sketchbook in his saddlebags, Roland set out to find Middle Earth.
It took him months to find. He had to tweak and tune for every detail he wanted, reading and adjusting until he felt he got it right. He felt he could have worked on this for a lot more time, as the more one wanted to control within shadow, the more time it took. For example, it was easy to find a shadow with hobbit-like people living in hobbit-like villages. If he wanted to find Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin and all the rest, it could take years.
He was satisfied to explore the Middle-Earth analogue, smoking the pipeweed, drinking the ale, visiting the Elves, Dwarves and Men. He passed easily for one of the Dunedain, the Rangers who roamed the world. He was content for a time.
He decided he would like to explore Fangorn. He wondered what the Ents would make of him. Would they sense his difference? Think him a wizard? Were there enough Real People that had read the books, walked in this shadow, to cause it to be what he wanted? Could he find, and talk to, Treebeard? Perhaps he should go look for the Entwives.
A few days later found him approaching the ancient forest. Isengard should be to his north, as he approached from the south, the civilized lands at the edge of Gondor. In this place, the War of the Ring was long over, at least fifty years by his reckoning. He wondered who held the Tower now?
As he rode nearer he encountered a strange scene.
A dozen wood elves stood near the edge of the forest, staring at another of their number. The one lone elf faced a glowing mass. A burning bush? His education had included Earth's Bible, along with many other ancient books...but this elf looked like no Moses. While the watchers were clad in greys and greens well suited to blend with the forest, the other one had the look of the magus about him. In fact, he seemed to be interacting somehow with the glowing mass.
*****
Observing from a distance, Roland's impression is that the elf-wizard is trying to affect or control the thing in front of him, without much success. In fact, the glowing ball reminds him of bits of the Pattern in a way. He knows from heresay that shadow magic is unlikely to be able to contend with Pattern energy, if that is what it is.
As Roland rides slowly nearer, the others turn to regard him solemnly. As he approaches them to within earshot, the construct suddenly flares and the wizard cries out, flings up his hands, and falls backward. One of the wood-elves tends to him while the rest regard Roland.
Roland holds up an empty palm in greeting and speaks to them in the language of men.
"Greetings, and well met." Before he could go on, he noticed the construct drifting toward him.
It stops about twenty yards away and changes its mein. It forms into something of a...doorway perhaps.
The leader of the elves steps forward, and said in lisping man-speech, "It seems it wants you. It smells of ancient wizardry, but not as the evil so recently banished from this land."
The elf-lord stares at Roland.
"I do not know you. You look like a man, but you are not, nor elf, nor any other of the races I know. What are you?"
Roland realizes the other elves have subtly shifted their stances, imperceptibly readying their weapons for immediate employment.