Spectrum: The Harpist's Tale
Disclaimer: Maglor, and any other recognisable characters in this story belong to JRR Tolkien. Any characters you don't recognise are OCs.
I woke with a start, gasping and clutching my heart. I looked around wildly for a few minutes, before realising I had only been dreaming. Again. The same dream, or nightmare, that had been plaguing me for weeks: A swarm of armed humans, seemingly hunting me, a shadowy figure I could not see clearly standing nearby, the noise of the sea in the background, and the light of the Silmaril bathing the whole scene, even though the cursed jewel was not in sight. I sat up, rubbing my eyes wearily. Why was I having this dream now? It had been many aeons since I last saw the Silmaril, and no-one now living in Middle-Earth even remembered their existence as fact. I noticed that the Sun was rising, and reluctantly got to my feet. It was time to move on again. I never remained in one place for more than a few months.
As I gathered my meager belongings- a pack containing spare tunics and trousers, a waterskin, a blanket, and a harp that I never use, but have been unable to part with, I mused over where I would travel to next. I travel everywhere on foot- Mortals have invented strange new chariots known as cars, but I haven't the faintest idea how to operate one. I walked for a few miles, and noted signs along the roadside, indicating that I was travelling towards a place called Happisburgh. It seemed as good a place as any to rest for a while, so I continued towards it. The sun was still rising as I walked into the village and looked around. Happisburgh was a small place, and seemed to have very few inhabitants. I made my way to the stony beach, and glanced upward. Dark cliffs loomed overhead, and there were a few houses on the cliff tops, though many of them seemed to have been abandoned. The tide began to come in as I stood there, and it became evident very quickly why Happisburgh was such a lonely place. The incoming tide engulfed the entire beach. I examined the cliffs more closely, and sure enough, it appeared the sea had claimed large amounts of them, and was still doing so. Happisburgh would not last much longer against its fury. Trying to shake myself out of those maudlin thoughts, I headed towards the main street.
A few early-rising Mortals were making their way to their workplaces, but the street was mostly deserted. That was good- large crowds of people meant it was more likely someone would try and talk to me. I did not befriend Mortals. The last time I had done so, many decades ago, was with a man named John. I had taken up a semi-permanent residence in a city called Oxford, and John and I became fast friends. Eventually, I took a risk: I trusted him with my true identity, and told him much of the true history of the world. He was fascinated by my stories, but others in the city grew suspicious of me. I was approached many times by leaders of new religions, and eventually, I bade farewell to my only friend and moved on. My confidence in him had an unexpected result- he wrote down all the stories and history that I had given him, and these books eventually became available throughout the world! His son Christopher continued to write after John passed, and now the history of Arda was well-known, albeit only as fiction. Lost in my thoughts, I had not noticed the elderly Man staring at me, his eyes full of curiousity. He approached before I had time to make myself scarce.
"Not often we get such young visitors to Happisburgh." His voice was cheerful, though his expression was cautious. I stifled a laugh. Young? If only he knew... I still appeared to be a young adult, despite my many years, which was the main reason I avoided mortals. Scores of well-meaning people had tried to help the 'homeless young man', and I was weary of explaining that I was older than I looked.
I smiled half-heartedly in response to the man's words. "I am just passing through. I will not be here for long. Happisburgh seemed like a pleasant place to stop for a while."
He nodded, returning my smile. "Its a good place to visit. Not much for tourists to do these days, since the sea ate half the place, but it's a friendly community. You travelling before you start college or somethin'?"
This talk was going to become awkward, because I would either have to lie, something I had sadly become fairly skilled at, or just walk away without responding, and seem rude.
I decided to keep my reply vague, shrugging. "I have not decided what I wish to do in the future," that was true enough, I could see no goal other than endless wandering, "I am just sight-seeing for a while."
The Man's expression brightened. "I know somethin' you might like to see! We just got a new exhibit in our museum, and no-one's ever seen anythin' like it! C'mon, I'll show you." He walked off, towards the museum, I presumed, without waiting for a response. I hesitated for a moment, before following. It was something to do, after all, though I doubted his 'new' exhibit would be anything I had not seen before. I had, over the millenia, explored every continent on this world, and it would take something extraordinary to surprise me.
He led me to an unimpressive red-brick building, but to my surprise, we did not go inside. Instead, the Man walked to a courtyard behind the main museum. I followed, not truly paying attention to my surroundings, until I saw what he had wanted to show me. I gasped in disbelief. How?! Before me, in the last place I would have expected to find such a thing, stood a sailing boat of elven make. I walked towards it in a daze. Pieced together from ash wood, with a bright, gleaming sail bearing the standard of Manwe, a golden eagle on a sapphire-blue background, the vessel was large enough to carry three or four people. Most incredible of all, the vessel looked good as new, despite the fact that it must be at least ten thousand years old! I do not know how long I stood there in shock, but my companion's chuckles at my expression roused me.
"Some young lads went explorin' along the cliffs a while back," he began to explain. "Said this was just sittin' in a natural formed cave. When it was brought here for testin', no-one could believe it. The wood used to make this is thousands of years old, yet the whole thing looks brand new! Incredible, ain't it?"
I nodded mutely. Found in a natural formed cave...apparently brought here not long before I arrived... I turned to the Man.
"Could you show me where this was discovered?"
He scratched his head. "Not really in the best shape to go clamberin' around the bottom of cliffs, these days, but I can draw you a map, if you want?"
Thus, some time later, I was exploring the base of the cliffs, trying to find the cave where the elven-ship had been discovered. The Man had drawn me a make-shift map, and warned me several times not to be caught out by the cliffs when the tide came in, especially as there was, supposedly, a storm due that day. I really was not sure why I felt I needed to find this cave, but I could not shake the instinctual feeling that the boat meant something. How had it come to be here, and why now, when all the elves who could sail to Valinor had long since departed? It was taking longer than I had imagined to find the cave- the Mortal's map did not convey distance very well. The sky was darkening, and the sea was slowly but surely making its way to the base of the cliffs, getting rougher every minute. A fine mist of rain began to fall, accompanied by a rising wind, and I realised this must be the beginning of the storm. I would have to turn back, and resume my search another day. Naturally, just as I had thought that, my left hand, which had been grasping the cliff for support, met empty air, and I lost my balance and stumbled into the cave.
I looked around once I had regained my footing, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was just a cave. Nothing more, nothing less. I could dimly make out an impression in the ground, presumably where the ship had sat before being removed, but nothing else. I laughed at myself bitterly. Well, what did you expect? My inner voice mocked. The ship was not placed here for you. You are a kinslayer. You will never be permitted to sail. I exhaled angrily, noisily, to quiet my thoughts, and glanced back at the cave entrance. The storm was raging outside, and showed no signs of stopping. I sighed heavily, and leaned against one of the cave walls. I knew it would be too dangerous to walk back along the cliff base in these conditions, so I would have to wait the storm out here. At least I was under shelter. The storm continued for several hours, and it was past midday when the clouds began to clear. As the wind had dropped, and the sea was somewhat calmer, I ventured outside. I was going to return to Happisburgh, when something glistening caught my eye, further away from the village. I took a few steps forward, and froze. It was a human figure! A maiden, I believed, but what would a human girl being doing out near to the sea after a storm like that? I was not sure if she was injured, so I approached, willing to offer aid if necessary. When I got my first clear glimpse of her, my eyes widened.
A young elleth lay curled in a foetal position on the beach. She was drenched from head to toe, her whitish-blonde hair a tangled mess, so much so that her pointed ears barely showed. Her eyes were closed, so she had to be deeply asleep. The strangest thing about her was her attire. At first glance, I believed she wore a dark-coloured gown, woven from some rough material that had somehow been badly torn. Upon a closer look, I realised that it was not a gown at all, but dark, oily seaweed that had somehow entangled and covered half of the elleth's form. To be covered in that much seaweed, on the beach, soaked and passed out from exhaustion...surely she had not swam here, during the storm? But if not, then where in blazes had she come from? She began to shiver in her sleep as I pondered, and I made a decision that could well prove rash. I could not leave an injured elf alone, at the mercy of Men who would not understand, and whom she had probably never encountered before. I pulled my blanket from my pack, wrapped it tightly around the strange elleth, and lifted her still-sleeping form in my arms. She weighed almost nothing!
I carried her back to the cave, where, I assumed, very few Men ever ventured. There were some houses nearby, but they were almost half a mile from here. I had found it difficult to make my way to this place, Men would find it even harder, so I hoped no-one would come across us before my guest woke up. She slept on, and I sat beside her, resolving to wait, and question her about how she came to be here when she awoke. Her face, in sleep, was innocent, carefree...almost child-like. As her pale hair began to dry, I noticed it had a bluish sheen to it, something I had never even heard of, let alone seen on an elf. Questions about her identity began plaguing my mind, but I would not wake her merely to question her. I would wait, for as long as I needed to. After around four hours had passed, she turned over, sighing softly, and the blanket shifted, uncovering her. I replaced it gently, and her eyes fluttered. I caught several fleeting glimpses of rainbow coloured eyes- such an unusual colour!- before her eyes opened fully. From the way she glanced around, I guessed her eyes were not focussing properly yet. She struggled to sit up, but as I moved to help her, her eyes met mine. Hers widened as if with fear, and she recoiled from me, shaking in terror...
To be continued...
AN: There is a companion story to this, called Spectrum; Ninniach's Tale, by Myth Queen. We are working together on this project. The stories take place at the same time, and you might need to read both to understand what's going on in later chapters.