Alone by the sea
Maglor was walking by the sea, and met an interesting young man there.(These people are not mine.)
He was riding to meet Edith in a café. They were not allowed to write to each other, but he managed to contact his girlfriend. Life was boring in the university. He was not rich, and everything was expensive. Besides, linguistics was really difficult. He thought he would be crazy over old English or Latin and he did not even get an A. Finnish, Icelandic, and Scottish were quite interesting, but there were also many terribly strange languages. He planned to change to English literature which was a easier major. He was thinking as he rode the shabby bicycle. When he looked around, he found he lost the way. The path should not lead to a desolate beach like this. The wind was growling and there was no one else. No, there was someone, slowly approaching him.
Who would walk by the beach? In the twilight, and perfectly alone, was he a traveler, or someone who wanted to commit suicide? The stranger was tall and fair with long ebony hair which fell down naturally. He was wearing a long black gown which made him look like a shadow. What made curious John Ronald frightened were his eyes, dark, sad and extremely pretty. John Ronald cautiously asked," Do you know how to go to ……"
" Who are you?" The person's voice was ethereal and soft, like music. It was the right kind which comes from such a delicate being. John was completely lost. This might be a sorcerer.
" John Ronald Tolkien. And you? Why are you here?"
"The weather is wonderful. And I like walking. I am always by the sea."
"You are travelling?"
"I am a minstrel."
"Where is your harp then? Anyway, could you help me? I must be at…"
"Is Edith that important to you?"
John Ronald frowned," how do you know?"
"I assure you that you will share a lot of time in the future, so why not spare me some time? I have been alone for many years. I merely remember how to talk. I know your name. you published a poem called Earendil."
"Yes. That's a legend about a person who sails into the west and never be back."
"He will not return. He became a star."
"That's a good ending."
"It's not a legend. It's true."
"You mean it happened in the past? I like this idea but this is impossible."
"Yes. Nobody remember now. I just want you to listen to me….for a while. I need you. Can you remember it? I have been telling this lament for years."
The proud and careless oxford student was crying when he waved goodbye to the minstrel. In the shimmering starlight he saw the minstrel's pointed ears. This cannot be true, he murmured.
The minstrel was walking along the sea, as if he would walk alone for ever.
After John Ronald got a first class honor degree in English literature, he became the youngest professor of oxford. And he began to write a lamentation. He promised he would not forget about it. He hesitated a moment about the minstrel's name. "Maglor. That's right. Maglor son of Feanor."
He was asked by journalists whether he was trying to make up a legend for Britain which unfortunately does not own Iliad or Odyssey. He replied, "Those are not legends or stories. I believe they are true."