Growing up, I had listened to the stories of the evil that once roamed this Earth. I would stare at my mother with rapt attention, soaking up the myths of Sauron and the Ring of Power. How his devilry had come about, I had no knowledge of, but my heart would fill with joy when I heard of how Men and Elves fought together to defeat him. When the story would end and, my sister and I would play outside, the two of us pretending we fought in the War of the Last Alliance and overturning the betrayals made against man and elf alike by destroying the Ring. Little did I know, I would soon come to a similar crossroad. My life, given up for a mere token by the one I trusted most with my life.

But lest I confuse you, I will start at the beginning.

My name is Mirwen TinĂºviel, daughter of Laerinu and Mithven of the elves of Mirkwood. I had but one sister, Cullthel to pass the days with, though this did not stop us from having fun, running when we could through the trees, never too far in for fear of the spiders of Mirkwood. And so passed our immortal days as elves.

One summer day, Father had come home early. He announced that we girls were old enough to travel and that on his next trip, we would accompany him. I couldn't believe it! The entire month leading up to the departure day, Cullthel and I were constantly moving. Whether it be that we were rushing around doing chores or pestering Father for news of outside of Mirkwood, there was never a moment where we were still. Father, whenever we asked him questions, no matter how silly they were, always answered with a smile in his eyes. Mother was far less patient, telling us that since we girls passed our fiftieth birthday, and hence of marriageable age, we should act as such. To such scolding, Cullthel would roll her eyes run from the room, me following all the while giggling.

Finally, the day arrived. My sister and I shared a horse and Mother rode alongside Father. There were several other elves making the trip with us, some guards against the dangers of the forest and others were there to help Father convince Rivendell to aid Mirkwood. During the journey I came to know several of the guards, who were much friendlier than Father's associates. Galadon, the head guard was slightly older than my parents. I loved to hear his tales of his battles with the giant spiders and the other dark creatures of our home. Bainven was the cheeriest of them all and always had a pretty flower or rock to give my sister and I. My favorite was fair-haired Thurichir, who played such beautiful music that Cullthel and I would stare at him over the fire, entranced by the melody.

After a week or so, we arrived at Rivendell. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen! The arches were so detailed; I could look for days and still find a new pattern. The windows, made of such a fine metal, looked as though someone had iced them as one would a wedding cake. The water, clear as glass, streamed under ivy-laced bridges. I was so caught up in my surroundings, I didn't notice that we had stopped and bumped into Galadon. He smiled, winked and looked back up in the direction that everyone else was facing. There, descending down the stone stair was Lord Elrond himself, with the beautiful Arwen at his side.

When he spoke, it was if all of Middle Earth stopped to heed his voice. "Welcome, my kinsmen of Mirkwood. My daughter and I bid you into our home and make use of all we have to offer. Tonight there is to be a dinner in your honor, I hope you enjoy your time here." With that, he ascended back up the stairs, Arwen following him after giving us a small smile. We were shown to our rooms, my room connected to Cullthel's so we were together yet still separate. After unpacking, I knocked on the connecting door.

"Cullthel? Are you done with your things?" The door swung open and I came face to face with my sister. She smiled.

"Yes, come in. Have you decided what you are going to wear tonight to the ball?" I sat on her bed, frowning slightly.

"I thought this was a dinner, not a ball."

Cullthel shook her head. "It is a dinner, but here dancing is accompanied with the food"

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't mind dancing; I just don't like dancing slow with partners. How do you know this anyway?" She walked over to the wardrobe and began digging through the various dresses.

Her muffled voice could be heard through the solid wood of the wardrobe. "Unlike you, I took the time to get to know the traditions of Rivendell. Though, you are lucky that Mirkwood is very similar in that you won't be completely confused. Aha! Here, you can wear this." She pulled out a simple cream colored dress with flowing sleeves.

"Thank you my sister, whatever would I do without you?" I jumped of the bed grabbed the dress and headed back to my room. As I shut the door, the sound of Cullthel's laughter rang throughout the room.

Several hours later, we were well into the night. After the formal introductions were made, we ate dinner. Then, the tables were cleared and the dancing began. I had been dancing with several different partners throughout the night. Now, the music started to slow and I stopped, slow being not a favorite of mine. I moved to the side of the grand room, a glass of water in my hand. From my vantage point I had a clear view of my surroundings. I saw the Lady Arwen, dancing lovingly with her father. I could see my parents, laughing and smiling in each other's arms. Smiling myself, I looked around in search of my sister. Scanning the room, I received a jolt of surprise when I saw her in an elf's arms. I widened my eyes when I saw who it was, Thurichir, the guard that played such beautiful music. Curious, I watch them more closely. Thurichir was holding my sister, one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. He leaned in closer and whispered something in her ear, to which she giggled and repeated something back to him. I started moving towards them to get a better view but a dancing couple moved in front of my path, cutting them from sight. When the couple moved away, my sister and Thurichir were gone. Shrugging, I drifted away and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

It was in the early stages of dawn when I awoke from some nameless disturbance. Sliding out of bed, I walked over to the balcony, where the wisps of sunlight were merging with the sheet of darkness that was the night. When I turned back around, intending to go back to bed for a few more hours, I noticed the connecting door to Cullthel's room was ajar. I walked over and slowly pushed the door open all the way. Expecting to see Cullthel sleeping in the bed, I was shocked to discover her absence. Taking a closer look at the room, I saw her wardrobe empty, where it had previously been filled with fine elven clothes. Suddenly, I heard a horse bray. Striding over to the window opening, I saw to figures, one with golden hair and the other with a familiar brunette. Cullthel! Where was she going, and with enough bags on the horse to fit a household? A sudden thought griped me, my stomach suddenly feeling as though someone had forcibly punched a hole through my gut. She couldn't be leaving, could she? She couldn't leave her own sister?

Quickly, pulling on a set of traveling clothes, I ran from my room, grabbing a spare change of cloth and cloak. On my way to the stables, I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed some lembus bread, then ran to the horses stalls. Skidding to a halt, I realized my mare was gone, Cullthel must have taken her. Not hesitating I went to the next stall and grabbed my father's stallion. I had not my father's skill with the animal, but he seemed to sense my urgency and galloped from the stables after I mounted him.

As I followed them, the tendrils of sunlight grew, until they overcame the darkness of the light. I knew not where they were headed, nor did I know why. But, I intended to find out why. I followed for a full day, and just when I thought my stallion and I would collapse from exhaustion, I came upon two horses, tied to a tree. I recognized one as the mare I had ridden to Rivendell. Realizing then that Cullthel must be close, I took note of my surroundings. The tree the horses were tied to was part of a forest, and the forest was on the slope of a large mountain. Looking skyward, I realized that the mountain whose feet I was on was part of many. The Misty Mountains, we had passed through them on our way to Rivendell but we had gone through a different pass, and I was unfamiliar with this territory. Gathering my courage, I tied the stallion to a close tree and made my way deeper into the forest.

I don't recall how long I walked in the wood, but gradually I came to smell smoke. There was someone with a fire nearby. Treading carefully and using my elven grace, I walked even further. I became aware of a light, a glowing ember in the closeness of the trees. It was a small cottage, almost hidden by the ivy growing on its walls. Smoke was billowing out a chimney and a bright light shinned through a small window. As I stood watching, the door opened and a voice called out to me.

"Mirwen, my child, come into my home." The voice was sickly sweet, almost as though the owner was both a young woman, and an old crone. Hesitantly, I walked through the door. As soon as I cleared the threshold, the door slammed shut, and I was grabbed from behind. Trying to break free from the iron grip on my arms, I twisted my head back to look at my attacker; it was the guard, Thurichir. He forcibly walked me over to a chair that was sitting on a dingy carpet in the middle of a sparse room. It held naught but a fireplace, a table with a plate of half eaten crumbs and a door, leading to an unknown room. I let out a cry as Thurichir began to bind my hands, rather roughly, to the chair.

"Why are you doing this?" I cried, begging to be let free. "Who are you?" When I was finally bound securely to the chair, Thurichir walked through the door and out of sight. I began to struggle, but the ties were to secure. I heard the door open once more and snapped my head up. Before I could get a good look at the person, they had rushed over and embraced me. All I could see was a mound of brown hair.

"Oh Mirwen, I'm so sorry! I couldn't help it, this was the only way!" That voice, I knew that voice.

"Callthul?" I asked fearfully, not sure I wanted to hear the answer. The curtain of brown hair retreated, and as I looked into the eyes of my sister, tears started to flow down my cheeks. "Why am I here? What is going on?"

Callthul opened her mouth to speak, but another voice beat her to it.

"Callthul TinĂºviel, you have indeed done what I requested. You have brought me a fine offering and you will be rewarded." It was the same sticky voice that had called me into the cottage. Through the tears, I saw another figure emerge from the unknown room. She seemed to be ageless, a young body but an air of ancient knowledge. I feared her, I feared what she could do to me. The woman began walking towards my sister and I, and from behind her, Thurichir once again appeared.

"You gave me what I wanted, and now I shall grant your wish." The woman began to chant, in some language not known to me. As I watched, a power seemed to surround Callthul and Thurichir. As if they were drawn by some magnetic pull, they walked towards each other. As they got closer, the chanting grew louder and the power that seemed almost like a maelstrom grew even more. When at last they reached each other, they took each other's hands and the chanting reached a crescendo. The power in the air was so thick that I could not see my sister and the guard. When at last the power died down, there were no longer two elves in front of me, instead there were two humans. One bore the same features as my sister, only lacking their elvish quality. Thurichir mirrored her in transformation.

The witch, for she had to be to partake in such devilry, spoke again. "Your wish has become your reality. Now leave, and forget you ever had a past. Forget all your precious memories, your family and your friends. This is your life now, you two forever bound to each other for the rest of your human days." The two elves that are humans opened their eyes. Callthul looked blankly at me and I called out to her.

"Callthul, please, why did you do this? Why did you turn your back to me?" My sister continued to look blankly at me.

"Are we acquainted?" She asked politely. My stomach dropped like a stone. I sat there, bound to the chair, my mouth gaping in shock. Thurichir then opened his eyes and when Callthul turned to him, emotion filled up her eyes. Thurichir smiled in return. They stood together, holding hands like young children. That was my last memory of them, for they spoke no more as they walked out of the house, staring lovingly into each other's human eyes. I turned back to the witch, the shock of my sister's betrayal causing my tears to cease.

"What do you want of me?" It seemed as though I would never get an answer. Then, the witch began to speak.

"Your sister came to me for help. She wished to spend the rest of her days a mortal life with the man she loves. I granted that wish and in return, she delivered you to me. You know you are very special Mirwen." As she spoke she moved into the room and pulled out a vial of a dark grey substance. "I have been alive for many years perfecting my practices and yet I could not test them. How could I, when so few volunteer for such purposes. But it matters not with you, for you are special. You will be the beginning of a new race, one far better than that of elves, dwarves or men." With that, she unscrewed the vial and slid toward me. She grabbed my throat and poured the thick liquid down my throat. Upon instinct, I swallowed.

Suddenly, I felt hot. It was like a thousand red hot pokers scorching into my skin. Then the pain came. Such unbearable pain. My muscles ripped and reformed, my bones crackling under the intense pressure. Everything about me was changing. Then, the pain ended. I was vaguely aware of the witch's voice, muttering of how something worked. I felt powerful, as though even Sauron himself would bow to me. And I felt angry. The anger consumed me and I ripped through my bonds. I advanced upon the witch, who still laughed with triumph. All my rage surged through my body and as I saw the witch's smile, I let that anger go. I leapt at her, wanting her to feel the same pain I felt. She was so soft, so easy to rip to shreds. But her eyes held me back, so full of fear. I backed off and she got up. I was filled with a sudden fear, a fear of what she would do if I stayed. So I ran. I ran without looking back, ignoring her calls. I stopped once I reached the edge of the forest. There I saw the stallion. As I went to untie him, his eyes began to roll back and he started straining at his rope. His cries scared me and I backed off.

Something was wrong. I felt as though I was me but not me at the same time. It was then that I noticed. I was on all fours. Looking down, I became frozen with shock. Where my feet and hand should have been, were now grey, furry paws. It couldn't be. I sniffed the air, I smelt a pond nearby. I ran towards it and when I looked at the still waters I saw myself. I was not me. I was not an elf. I was not Mirwen.

I was a wolf.