Chapter One: Collision

Meroryan laid her books on the table, sighing with exhaustion. Classes had seemed to last forever. What made it worse, was that her literary history teacher had decided to assign a 20 page paper and make it due the following Monday. Seeing as it was only Friday, her time was extremely limited as to how much time she could put it off.

She dragged her tired body upstairs, feeling like she could collapse where she stood. Upon reaching her room, Meroryan headed for her dresser. She pulled out a pair of butter soft jeans and a dark green tank top in place of her khaki skirt and honey colored sweater. She sighed in contentment, letting the feeling of comfort wash over her. This was what she wanted to wear all day, every day, for the rest of the centuries. There was nothing quite like being able to MOVE when you walked or sat or whatever it was you were doing at the time.

She wandered over to the window, opening the blind to look out on the white world below. The forecaster had been right, for once, when he had said that snow was in the air. It had managed to drop a good three inches last night and was still falling quietly on the silent world beneath it. Everything was so clean, the blanket of fresh snow covering the remaining leaves and dead grass that had scattered the lawns of every house down the street. Meroryan loved the snow. The silence of it made everything seem so much brighter, more pronounced. The world, in her opinion, was too noisy. No one seemed to take time to appreciate the beauty of the world before them. Too many individuals would run around like rats in a cage, hurrying from here to there, never pausing to take the fresh air into their lungs, to be conscious of the new flowers, or listen to the larks song. It saddened her that people now would never pause in their daily routine to take in what was around them.

Sighing, she dropped the curtain, letting it fall back into place. So much had changed in the past two millennia. She should know. She had been there. Meroryan was the last of her people. An ancient race, immortal, powerful. The Tua De Dannaa were all extinct save one. She had lived these past twelve centuries without her family, moving from place to place, watching the world and its people evolve into the creatures that they were today. The technologies, the science of the world in which she now lived fascinated and amused her. She had become addicted to the modern conveniences that this world now offered. She could remember living without running water, bathing in fresh running streams high in the mountains. The luxury of instant food or coffee made her smile. It was a world of ease that had replaced the world of terror and fury she once knew.

Her smile faded as she recalled the past. To her, it seemed only days, weeks ago when the Aurelians had attacked her beloved home. They had destroyed everything that Meroryan had held dear. She had been fortunate to survive. At the time of the attack, she had been visiting with her friend Nadriel, one of the ancient ones who had taught her to harness and use her powers for good. Her father had not approved of Nadriel teaching her the ancient arts, but had conceded and withdrawn his protests when he had seen his daughter's disappointed look. So, Meroryan had spent nearly every afternoon in Nadriel's presence. She had learned to channel her powers, coming to understand the ways of the ancients, of the earth, and utilizing the power she felt there. Nadriel had once again been leading her through one of the ancient rituals when sounds of the attack had reached her ears. She had raced Relampago along the fields, dreading in her heart what she would find when she made it home. But even that had not prepared her for what met her eyes.

The Aurelians had spared no one. Women had been lying slain on the hard ground, their dead children still clutched tightly to them, as though to protect them from this fate. The men had been scattered about, many of them with their weapons still clutched tight in their fists, the blood staining them a testament to the battle that had taken place not moments before. Meroryan, being consumed with fear and terror, had raced up the stairs of the palace to where her family would have been. She had paused now and again, coming across the bodies of her friends, laying motionless on the stairs, their blood coating the once white marble. Meroryan had fallen on her knees beside one body in particular. Galandrie, captain of the guards. He had been like a brother to her, teaching her in the art of archery and swordsmanship. He lay then, as if in sleep, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. Meroryan had touched the broad, proud forehead, feeling the iciness beneath her fingers. Tears had streamed silently down her cheeks, her pain filled eyes had taken in everything. Her maid, and truest fried, Eararadith, lying close to her brother, Forfirith. She had muttered a silent prayer over those she passed, letting her feet carry her closer to the throne room.

Her father was the first one she had reached. He lay on his side, his once laughing green eyes open and lifeless. She had found her mother and sisters in the far corner of the room. Their weavings now covered with their life's blood. They had been brutalized, their bodies ripped apart. Meroryan couldn't help the bile that had risen to the back of her throat. The servants, her friends, lay scattered about, trays of food and wine soiling her mother's most prized rushes that had once decorated this beautiful place. The stench of death hung heavily in the air, the silence itself deafening. Nothing stirred. And Meroryan knew that there was nothing left of her people.

Helplessness and rage had consumed her. She remembered taking up the bow and quiver of arrows which Galandrie had given her for her birthday one year. Relampago had stood waiting in the courtyard. His eyes had turned to Meroryan's, and she had felt his understanding wash through her. He was another of the ancients, a noble and proud steed who had become enchanted by the sprite little child in the early centuries of her life. She was the only one who could ride him, their wild spirits as one when they raced together.

The only thing that had stopped her from destroying the entire Aurelian race that day had been Nadriel. He had come swift on her heels and had stayed her from taking revenge. At that time, she had raged against him, feeling the pain inside of her boil over. And he had been there when she had finally cried, holding her against the anguish. Together, they had buried the bodies of her people, laying them to rest in the forest of their homeland. Nadriel had taken her in, sheltered her. He had continued to teach her, guiding her through the world of men. Nadriel had become the one true blessing in her life. Relampago had remained at her side. Always the three of them had moved as one, melding their futures together.

And now the future was the present. Meroryan shook herself, brining her mind back to the present. The past was over with. The doorbell rang and she hurried to answer it. Her friend Elsie stood on the other side, bundled from head to toe in winter wear.

"It's freakin' freezing outside!" She hurried in and shut the door behind herself. Unwrapping the scarf from around her mouth, she said to Meroryan, "Hey Mer, ready to hit the books for the hermit's exam?"

Meroryan smiled, her eyes crinkling. Elsie was a good friend. She was bright and exuberant, her enthusiasm contagious. They had met on the first day of their Literature class. Meroryan had tried her best to avoid any and all contact. But Elsie had other ideas. She had approached Meroryan out of curiosity more than anything. Meroryan had been sitting in the back of the room making Elsie wonder what would make someone shy away from human contact like that. So she had moved to the seat right next to her. At first, Meroryan had been reluctant to engage in conversation with her, but it didn't take long before she was smiling back and laughing with Elsie.

Elsie was a petit young woman with deep brown eyes and light blond hair. She was slightly plump, but not overweight by any means. Many men flocked to her because of her exuberance. But it didn't hurt that she was a handful that men admired and, for some, enjoyed. Meroryan was her direct opposite. She was tall and graceful, with the emerald green eyes that signified one of the royal house of the Tua De Dannaa. Her hair was long down her back, a thick and rich dark brown mane. Her quiet and calm demeanor was more often than not off-putting to men. They had nicknamed her the ice queen. Oh, she had guy friends, but no one that was truly interested in trying to get behind the cool façade. Which was exactly the way she wanted it.

"I'm certain that I'm prepared for whatever you think you can throw at me dear friend." Meroryan smiled lightly, enjoying the challenging look that came into Elsie's eyes.

"Well you better be. After all that time we spent last week going over this crap, I expect miracles from the brain of yours." The two friends laughed together and headed for the table in the kitchen. Meroryan set some water on to boil for tea, another luxury she enjoyed, and took down two mugs from the cupboards.

"What do you think the Hermit will put on the exam?" Meroryan asked Elsie nonchalantly. The Hermit, as his students affectionately called him, was Professor Harris. He was a short, stubby little man with a brilliant mind for literature. But his specialty was in fantastical reality. More specifically, the Lord of the Rings, which was what they were studying at this point.

"Not too sure. You never know with him. One minute, you're looking at specific story line analysis, the next, character development." Elsie looked at her friend and smiled ruefully. "Hopefully, he'll be gentle on us. That 1984 exam damn near killed me!" Meroryan merely laughed. "Oh sure, easy for you to laugh," Elsie scowled good-naturedly, "You weren't the one he called into his office to discuss alternate plans for passing his class!"

"I'm also not the one who didn't study as well as she should have." Elsie muttered something unfriendly about obnoxious friends and self-righteous 'attitudes' under her breath. Meroryan smiled and set the hot tea in front of Elsie. "Let's get started shall we?"

For the next three hours, the two women delved into the land of Middle Earth. Meroryan had found this book to be intriguing. She knew it was mostly fantastical. And yet she knew there to be some truth to Tolkein's words. She could well remember a time when such stories of elves and dwarves were passed around the fires of her home. The warriors used to tell great tales of strength and courage exhibited by these seemingly imaginary races of people. Meroryan had always been held captive by such stories, especially those of the elves. The race of the 'fair ones', as was the term her people had used, had always piqued a great interest in Meroryan, even when she was young. Myths and legends were based on truths, her father had told her once. The 'fair ones' had lived long before her time, in an age of darkness. They had passed on to the Palace of Light only when the Earth had no longer been threatened by such evils.

And with their passing, came the time of men, who had flourished in the Earth they had inherited. She could not recall what the ancients had said had happened to the other races. Only that they, too, had soon passed into myth and legend. Meroryan shook herself hard, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. Such things were best left to memories.

Middle Earth: 18 months after the destruction of the Ring

The ground trembled. In the caves where they slept, the remaining Orcs and Uruk-hai felt the stirring presence of evil. The ominous sounds grew within their taverns of the deep until it roared to life through the passages. All sound, save for the growing howl, stopped. There was complete stillness among the dark ones. The greatest of the Uruk-hai stood, listening closely to the voice the wind carried with it. It spoke to him, calling him to gather closely. And then he heard it, the shrill laughter rife with triumph.

Some of his followers crowded closely behind him. "What is it Garnor? What has come?" These whispers and many like it were close at his back, but he ignored them all. He could feel the presence of the evil one. The time for revenge was at hand.

A sudden shape loomed before him, taking its form in the inky blackness before it. The creature emerged from the darkness, radiating power and force. Garnor smiled wickedly. Yes, the time had come. He kneeled before the creature, the others quickly following suit.

And in the stillness of the caverns, one word could be heard echoing as a battle cry among all dark creatures: "Master"

Nadriel raised his head into the wind. The sky was darkening. The trees in the surrounding glade spoke to him of an awakening evil. He knew that the time was coming. It could no longer be put off. He turned quietly to the stallion that stood faithfully by his side. "She must be summoned."

The clock on the mantle read six in the evening. Elsie shut her copy of the Lord of the Rings tiredly. It had been a long day for both of them. And this text was proving more difficult to read and understand the longer one studied it.

"What do you think?" Meroryan asked Elsie quietly. Her friend had tilted her head back against the chair and was rubbing her eyes. She paused, sighing heavily. Looking at Meroryan, she simply shook her head.

"No clue girlie. There's so much info in these books I couldn't even tell you where he would begin with the questions."

"Think we stand a chance of at least getting a C?"

"HA!" Her friend merely snorted, chuckling darkly, "At this point, I'd be happy to get an F, which I highly doubt will happen."

Meroryan smiled sadly. "Giving up hope already?"

"I thought I had it down pat," Elsie said, moving to place her cup in the sink. "But now, after going over all the questions and terms he wants us to know, I'm not so certain."

Meroryan made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, her gaze fixed on the book in front of her. Unlike Elsie's copy, her book was bound in a rich green leather, the pages yellowed with age. It was one of THE original books. She had managed to snag it many years ago at a market in England, her current residence at the time. Elsie came to lean her hip on the edge of the counter next to Meroryan's place at the table.

She nodded her head towards the book in front of her, a frown nit between her delicate brows. "Where did you get that? It looks like it's worth big bucks. I'm sure a poor starving college student like yourself couldn't have afforded that!" She smirked, rich brown eyes meeting cool green ones.

Meroryan merely arched a brow, an amused glint coming into her eyes. Poor would hardly describe her circumstances. "I retrieved this copy at a market in England." She purposefully left out the date of her acquisition.

"Really? Anything interesting left in it? An old love letter? A manuscript from Shakespeare's times?" Elsie teased lightly. "That book looks like it's a hundred years old at least."

"Perhaps. As to whether or not there is anything in it, I did find an unusual slip of aged paper in it when I first opened it. It had strange lettering on it. I didn't think much of it." Odd that she should think of it now. That Elsie would ask such a question. She glanced curiously at her friend, but didn't really expect an answer.

"So where is it?" Elsie asked excitedly. "Let's pop that sucker open and read the darn thing already."

Meroryan nodded, moving slowly and hesitantly toward the drawer she had placed it in when she had first found it. She didn't know why, but something seemed to be holding her back. She was uncertain as to what exactly was happening, but the wind seemed to speak of an undefined peril. Meroryan was suddenly very afraid to open that note and read the words inscribed upon it. Her feet dragged across the carpet, her steps heavy and laden with doubt.

She pulled the drawer of the end table open, reaching for the folded parchment that lay on top of the pile therein. Elsie, who had followed her into the living room, snatched the note up, excitement in her eyes. She ripped the paper open and quickly recognized the words as elvish.

"Hey hey, look at this. Elvish. Someone probably thought this up and put this in here as a secret message joke or something."

Meroryan turned, a warning on her lips. But Elsie was already slowly reading the words inscribed. And it was suddenly too late. With every breath she uttered, Meroryan felt frozen to the spot. The words she had been about to shout died before they could be spoken. The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet.

Imya i'kaimela ikotane lle autuva Ana thar ndorrim tar i'hisie Sinta n'uma ner lle firimar eska Tula

Elsie had finished the incantation on the paper, and looked up in horror at her friend. Mist swirled dark around them. Then, they knew nothing.

A sudden stillness swept over the dark creature. He raised his head, sniffing the air expectantly. The orcs ceased their preparations, casting uneasy glances at their master. For minutes, not a sound was made in the caverns below the mountains. Then, like a crack of lightning, shrill laughter filled the emptiness.

"So, Nadriel. You bring the guardian to this realm to stop me. Very well then. Let us test her strength. Let her come." All standing close to him felt his malice like a wave upon them. His cruel laughter rang with triumph. The orcs, the evil creatures that plagued Middle Earth, shook with fear. Evil had taken on a new form.

Meroryan struggled to open her eyes. Everything in her body hurt, and she felt as though her lungs were on fire. She couldn't draw a proper breath. Shallow, gasping nuances of air burned their way down her throat and she had to force her breathing to calm. Her head spun dizzily, nausea roiling through her. She was afraid to move, the pain temporarily overriding any sense of caution that she might have once had. For the moment, she was contented to lie there, letting her body and its aches slowly ease before she attempted to move. She waited for only a moment before attempting to get a look at her surroundings.

Opening her eyes proved to be more difficult than she had thought, though. The brightness that was before her only made the bile rise to her throat more quickly. She fought it, bringing it under enough control so that she could at last open her eyes and see what was before her. She was lying on her back in the middle of a glade of trees. The sunlight that had caused her such pain moments before was being filtered through the surrounding maples. Tall and strong, the whispered softly in the slight breeze that encircled them, singing peace to the surrounding area. Meroryan set about to determine the extent of her injuries. She flexed her muscles, wincing against the pain that assailed her. The most damage appeared to come from her right knee and her right side. From the pain in her breathing, she figured she had either broken or severely bruised several ribs. She cautiously raised her hand, swiping at the moisture at her left temple. Her hand came away sticky with blood. She must have hit her head on a rough patch of ground. Probing the wound, she found that the gash wasn't very deep, merely gritty and coated with half-dried blood.

Moving her head to the side, she regarded the area where she lay, regretting the action almost immediately as it sent a wave of pain washing through her. Gritting her teeth, she struggled valiantly to sit up. After three attempts, her efforts were rewarded and she sat a bit disjointedly on the ground. Looking around, she spotted her friend Elsie only a few feet off, lying on her side. Blood ran down the scratch on her cheek. Meroryan slowly rolled to her knees, leaning heavily on her left one. She finally stood, gasping with every breath. Rushes of pain ran from her knee to her head and back again, one long continuous wave of treacherous pain. She attempted to walk, only to nearly fall flat on her face as her knee gave way beneath her. Catching herself, Meroryan's eyes hardened with determination. Her friend needed her. There was no way she would give up on her now.

What took only moments, seemed to her an eternity. She sank heavily to the ground beside her friend. Her fingers sought, and found, a pulse. Sighing in relief, Meroryan then set about discovering the extent of the damage her friend had sustained. The gash on her cheek appeared to be the worst of it. Meroryan shook her friend lightly, calling out to her softly.

"Come on Elsie, time to get up. Wakey, wakey." She slapped her good cheek gently, continuing her mantra. "Elsie. Elsie. Wake up hun." Elsie moaned, her eyes fluttering open. She gazed at Meroryan in confusion.

"What happened, Mer?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, shaking her head. All she could remember was standing in the living room, listening to the words that Elsie was reading, and then waking up to the pain. Her head jerked upright, causing stars to wink before her eyes. She clutched her head, realizing the enormity of what had happened to them. "The words," she whispered quietly.

"The words?" Elsie looked at her, completely confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The words, on the parchment." Elsie looked at her for a moment before comprehension dawned, and with it, horror.

"Oh my God! What have I done?" She hid her face in her hands, her breath coming in short gasps.

Meroryan merely laid a hand on her friends' shoulder. "Come on. It wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have known what reading the parchment would bring about. Don't blame yourself."

"But how can I not? I'm the one that insisted on seeing it and reading what it said wasn't I? This is all my fault. If I would've just kept my curiosity under my hat then none of this would have happened!"

"You can't be certain of that. It might have happened regardless. Anyway, this is not the time to contemplate whose fault it was or wasn't. What's more important now is that we take care of our wounds and figure out where we are," Meroryan looked around her. The trees were old, their branches reaching far up into the loft. The forest beyond had an ominous feel. There was hardly any light beyond the glade where they now lay, the trees growing more dense as far as Meroryan could see. The darkness within was terrifying.

"Where do you suppose we are then?" Elsie asked in a whisper. The tremor in her voice belied the calm tone, hinting at the fear that assailed her.

Meroryan made to comfort her friend. "I'm not too sure. But wherever it is, I don't suppose we'll be lacking wood for a fire should we have cause for one." Her voice was calm, the light tone easing some of the tension in the surrounding air. She turned to Elsie, levering her arms beneath those of her friend. "Come now, let's get you up. Then you can tell me if anything else hurts."

Slowly, the two gathered their strength enough the stand. Elsie wobbled only for a moment before gaining her balance. "I think I'm ok. My cheek and chest hurt, but that's about it." She glanced worriedly at her friend. "You on the other hand don't look so good." She reached up a hand to touch Meroryan's left temple lightly. "That cut looks bad. What else hurts?"

"I'm fine," she assured her, "Just a dew cuts and bruises. My ribs hurt, but not overly so. I think I might have twisted my knee as well when I fell, but I can walk on it without it causing me too much pain."

Elsie studied her face for a moment, not believing her when she said everything was alright. Her face was entirely too pale and the area around her mouth was white with stress. She only hoped they could find some friendly people to help them. Being stranded in a strange land with no food or shelter was not exactly her idea of a good time out. She looked at Meroryan steadily, asking the question that had been raging in Meroryan's own mind since waking. "Which way should we go?"

Meroryan looked into the woods beyond. She had been trying to figure out just that. She had no idea where the spell had landed them. They could be anywhere in time or place. But she didn't feel the need to worry her friend with such details right now. All that could wait until they were settled in front of a warm fire with food and friendly company. "I'm not sure," she said, shaking her head. She motioned her friend to silence, letting her senses be carried away by the wind. She held herself like that for a few moments, listening intently to whatever the woods would tell her, a stranger in their midst. After a few minutes, she looked at Elsie, nodding her head to her left. "That way."

"How can you be so sure?" Elsie asked her as they started their slow walk through the woods before them.

"I'm not," she replied, smiling wistfully at her friend. "But the oppressive feeling that I have about this forest feels less threatening from this direction."

Elsie looked through the trees directly in front of them. "Right," she said, then added, "Well look at it this way: at least we aren't naked!" Meroryan chuckled lightly along with Elsie. True they had managed to make it through whatever had brought them here with clothes intact. Meroryan glanced down at her feet, wiggling her bare toes against the cool ground. She hadn't been wearing shoes when they had been transported to wherever they now stood. She sighed, thinking that they couldn't be lucky all the time. The started walking slowly, making their way between the ancient maples who had guarded them for such a short time. As they passed one of the great trees, Meroryan laid her palm against the rough bark. She could feel it stir beneath her touch as she murmured her thanks. And so the two friends supported each other beyond the glade, the forest swallowing them up as they entered.

Imya i'kaimela ikotane lle autuva; Ana thar ndorrim tar i'hisie; Sinta n'uma ner lle firimar eska; Tula-roughly means, "Through the dreaming so will you go, to distant lands beyond the mist, to know no more your mortal home. Come."