The Dream

(Liam Craven)

This is a dream of a possible, but not set-in-stone, future. It's a maybe. It can be changed, it might never happen. It's just an idea I had.

A man dressed in a long green cloak stood on an outcropping of rock somewhere north of Lorien. He wore a long brown beard and hair, a tall staff in his hands, and a glint in his eyes. His body is that of a middle-aged man, but his gait is that of one much younger. Her is youthful in his movement, but his eyes betray an aged wisdom. Carisan can see him clearly, but inexplicably, the man cannot see him. It seems to Carisan that he is standing a distance away, but to do so would mean, that he (Carisan) was in mid air. He tries to look down, but to no avail. The only thing he sees is the man. Then someone calls his name, and he turns to see Karla walking up to the beareded man. She is slightly older, wiser, stronger. She carries a sword at her side and has light fey wings on the back of her long, flowing robes. She smiles.

J.R.R. Tolkien -- Lotholorien in Spring

"It has been a long five years, old friend. Are the others coming? Will the pact be broken again?"

"They are coming," answers the bearded man as he sits down on the rocks. Karla joins him. She asks, "Have you heard anything of them in all these years?"

He replies, "Last I saw them, Enuvien and Glorielin were off to fight the strange orcs from south of Mordor, while Theomer was serving Rohan. Elenluin was still in Lorien."

"I went to help heal the Shire, and then I ended up seeking the leader of the orc legions from the far south. I lost track of Theomer and Elenluin, but Enuvien, Glorielin and I fought long and hard in the south. They were headed back to Rivendell together," Karla tells him.

"Lo, here comes a rider," the bearded man says.

The rider runs up and it is apparent that it is an older version of Theomer. His horse is a magnificent white animal with gleaming blue eyes. He wears armor common to riders of Rohan, and the rank of a captain. He laughs hardily and shouts, "Carisan, Karla!"

At this point Carisan realizes that the bearded man is indeed himself, aged. He gasps. No one notices. Theomer and Karla and Carisan talk on the outcropping. Their conversations turn toward war and plague and famine and Aragorn, but Carsian (not the aged one) cannot make it all out. Then two more riders arrive.

"Glorielin! Enuvien!" shouts Theomer.

They halt and dismount. Glorielin carries a young elf babe in her arms. Enuvien is missing a finger, has a beautiful sword by his side, and limps slightly. He has had a bad fall in the wars in the south.

"How's the father of this fair child?" Karla asks. Glorielin replies, "He is doing well in Rivendell. It was a sad parting. We could hardly bear to be apart." Enuvien laughs and makes light of their mutual friend. Karla and Glorielin, Carisan and Theomer, and Enuvien stop as Elenluin materializes in their midst. He wears long white robes and carries a staff of fine red wood. He smiles wanly. He is obviously thin and weak from lack of food. He laughs.

"I spend too much time studying to eat," he jests as they comment on his condition. They all sit and talk. Carisan hears word of others on their way, of wars and battles, and of mages and witches, demons and orcs. Fear ripples through him as he sees some of what they speak of. Of torture and rapine, of killing and fire, of a world gone wrong.

"I have spent many years battling the Dead Mages in the passes in the south. They have raised legions of zombie warriors, and I have done the bets I could with my unpolished magic. It is quite painful sometimes. This is the time we have waited for. After five long years, we are reunited. What now?"

And then he felt a jarring pain in his head. Carisan gasped and woke up...