p style="max-width: 100%; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px;"You are so, so tired. There's been weeks of studying recently and you feel like you just need a small style="max-width: 100%;" /»Mum, I have decided. I'm going to grandpa's for the weekend!« br style="max-width: 100%;" /There's no better place than grandpa's old lake house. It might be hours away by train, but visiting him is always a special adventure. He lets you read your Tolkien books in peace and he tells stories. People often say he's not being reasonable lately, but you always defend him. He understands style="max-width: 100%;" /»It's quite a long ride my dear! Are you sure?« mum appears out of the living room, and your little beagle padding behind style="max-width: 100%;" /»I'm sure! I need a break! Besides, I don't have any exams coming. And I'll have to be looking after the house when you two are on holiday afterwards! Let me have this weekend for myself!«br style="max-width: 100%;" /So the next day after school, you take your backpack and fill it with clothes and of course, your beloved old copy of The Silmarillion. You need to read it again, and what better place to read than the forest by the lake?br style="max-width: 100%;" /The train ride lasts 3 hours. You watch a few series on your laptop- you don't want to start the book yet! br style="max-width: 100%;" /Grandpa is waiting for you at the station and is delighted to have you around. You cook dinner together and chat by the fire on his terrace overlooking the style="max-width: 100%;" /»What's the news, grandpa,« you smile when you sip your delicious hot style="max-width: 100%;" /»There's been some strange things happening in the woods, my dear,« grandpa leans forward in his old chair. You get ready for a good story. Grandpa always tells excellent stories and adventures. You are almost certain they never happened but you enjoy listening to them. It's like an escape. A tiny light of hope in this crazy, hard-working style="max-width: 100%;" /So grandpa tells you about some old well in the forest surrounding the lake. It's been there since forever but he can feel some powerful energies are forming around it, almost…br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Almost like magic!« he says excitedly and he chuckles. »I have taken my friend's sheep by that path, and they got real nervous near the well! Animals know best, they sense things better than humans do. There is something powerful about it, I am sure of it.« With that, he gets up and style="max-width: 100%;" /»Now, I think it's time I go to sleep. I have to go to the market in the village tomorrow. I've got some fine wooden creations to sell. But I know you'll prefer staying home, reading,« he style="max-width: 100%;" /You really want to hear more about the well but grandpa insists on taking a rest. You are very excited to find it style="max-width: 100%;" /And the next day, you venture into the old forest with your Silmarillion in one hand and a piece of cake in the other; the forest is beautiful and you can finally relax. You search for the well for over two hours. It's covered in moss and hidden by old tree branches. There's a lot of birds singing on nearby style="max-width: 100%;" /»It's a perfect spot for reading,« you think to yourself. First you look into the well. It's very deep, you can't really see the bottom, but it's dark and there is obviously some water inside, you can see the sparkles of little waves the wind makes when it howls through the stones in the walls. You climb to the top of it and lean against an old tree. A perfect place!br style="max-width: 100%;" /You stay there for hours. The Silmarillion is a book you can never put down before it's finished, and you want to stay the whole day. You're just about to turn a page when a loud »HELLO!« echoes through the woods. Exactly behind you. You jump half a meter into the air! Your heart makes a loop in your chest. That's some really sneaky way to greet a person! Luckly, you don't fall into the well. You furiously turn around. There's just a farmboy, and behind him, a sheepdog is curiously peeking at style="max-width: 100%;" /»You scared me to death!« you scold him angrily. »I almost had a heart attack!«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»I'm sorry! But I saw you sitting on the well and I just couldn't go past you! You shouldn't be sitting there. The well is cursed.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /You snort. »Yeah, right bro. Okay, I get that it has a special energy, which it does, but cursed? Has anyone ever had any misfortune with it? Did anyone FALL in it?«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Well… not a person, no. But stuff has fallen inside. Just like your book earlier.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»WHAT?!« you turn and almost stick your head into the well. All you can see is a small white patch in the dark water, slowly disappearing into the style="max-width: 100%;" /»NO! MY BOOK! MY PRECIOUS!« you howl. The farmboy looks a bit frightened. And damn right. »IT WAS YOU!« And the next thing you know, he is running like a scared chicken and you run after him through the woods, threatening with fire and destruction, all the way to the village./p
p style="max-width: 100%; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px;"You mourn your precious Silmarillion. You mourn it so much you can't really eat anything and leave grandpa's house in the afternoon again. You take a wooden ladder with you, and an old broom. You'll try and get it back. It's been with you since forever. Maybe you could place it on the sun for a few days and it would look like those old middle age manuscripts. Or maybe it will look like a ball of dirty paper, you think style="max-width: 100%;" /The birds are silent when you approach the spot. This really is a cursed place, you think angrily, shifting the ladder on your shoulder. You're just about to put it down by the nearby tree when you hear a splash. You style="max-width: 100%;" /»Help!«br style="max-width: 100%;" /The ladder falls from your hands with a loud thump. So does the broom. The voice seems to be coming from… You pick up the broom slowly and hold it like a weapon. Like a sword. Kind of. Are you imagining things?br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Anyone? Please, it's really damp and dark here!« The voice is DEFINITELY coming from the well. It's a bit muffed and distant, but it's a gentle voice. Not a panicked one, more like someone was humbly trying to ask for style="max-width: 100%;" /You get to the well slowly and you raise the broom above your head. Then you lean across the stony fence. br style="max-width: 100%;" /There is someone inside! His hair is wet and sticked to his forehead. He's holding onto a piece of wood, like a stow away after a sea storm. And he's looking directly at you./p
p style="max-width: 100%; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px;"»H-how did you get in here?« you ask, voice trembling, but holding the broom a little style="max-width: 100%;" /»Oh,« the stranger sounds genuinely surprised. »Well. I fell from a cliff.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»What?! What cliff! This is a well. In a forest.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Please, would you be so kind and help me up there, my lady? I will do everything I possibly can to explain anything you desire to know, just please, let me see the sunlight again, for the dampness has gotten through my armour and, well, I'm even a little bit hurt.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /This guy has had some serious brain damage, he must've gotten it when he fell in, you think to yourself, but you immediately get the ladder and lower it down the wall while holding it so he can climb up. Surprisingly, he doesn't need any help, even through he looked pretty vunerable from up there. And the ladder doesn't get the slightest bit heavier. How the…br style="max-width: 100%;" /He jumps across the wall of the well, with the help of your hand. And then you drop the ladder and it falls into the well with a loud tumble. So loud that some birds fly from the treetops nearby. There is a guy in armour standing in front of you. It's not a fake, it's real, beautiful armour. Furthermore, it's golden. There is a guy in golden armour standing in front of the well. The cursed well, you remind style="max-width: 100%;" /»Wha- what is this?!« you stare at him with your mouth literally open. You suddenly notice something else. His ears are not man-like. They have pointy tips. THEY HAVE POINTY TIPS? Furthermore, there's blood slowly streaming down his forehead and down his left cheek. He looks like he's been wounded. Probably from the fall into the damn style="max-width: 100%;" /»Forgive me,« he smiles warmly. And before you know it, at the second a smile appears on his lips, you hear the birds start singing somewhere closeby again. There is a feeling like the sun starts shining a little more intensely through the trees. And it gets a little bit warmer. In utter confusion, you take a step back and bump into a tree trunk with your back lightly. You hold onto that style="max-width: 100%;" /»For I have not yet been able to introduce myself. My name is Glorfindel, Captain of the House of the Golden Flower.« He places his right hand on his heart. It's a bit bloody and his chest armour gleams in the sunlight, and you can see the dust stains on the surface. You also catch a glimpse of your own face in it. You look like there's suddenly a competition of the longest silent scream coming from one's mouth, and you were sure you'd have won this competition if it exists somewhere. You must style="max-width: 100%;" /»This is- are you kidding me?«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»I apologize,« his face grew worried. »I am not acquainted with this expression, please forgive me. But I do assure you, I really am Glorfindel, Glorfindel of Gondolin, and from whichever Elven house you come from, I shall try my best to learn your habits. But first, I would be extremely grateful if I could reunite with my dear friend, Echtelion, for I have lost him in battle before I myself was doomed, and I really must make sure he's safe in the hands of the gentle folk of Valinor- »br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Y-you are Glorfindel?« Your heart starts racing in your chest like a scared little bird in a cage. Something was telling you this is not a cosplay. This couldn't have been a style="max-width: 100%;" /»Indeed. And I must thank my saviour, for I owe my freedom to you, beautiful fay, please, would you tell me your name,« he still is holding his hand over his style="max-width: 100%;" /You stammer your style="max-width: 100%;" /»But-but you are from a book! Glorfindel is an Elf from The Silmarillion! How-»br style="max-width: 100%;" /»A book mentions my deeds? This is so kind!« he laughs, and suddenly, a ray of sunlight lightens up the place where you two are standing, and little flowers start peeking out from the moss on the well. It all happens in style="max-width: 100%;" /»Y-NO! Professor Tolkien wrote a book! He wrote a story! He wrote a story about Arda! About its creation- he wrote everything!« you half stammer, half style="max-width: 100%;" /»This sounds enchanting!« he is still smiling, and he suddenly steps closer and takes your hand. His hand is still clothed into an armoured glove, but it's been torn at places and there are scratches on his wrist. But he holds your hand gently and stares directly into your eyes with style="max-width: 100%;" /»Please, tell me more! But I must ask you,my lady, would you have any place I could freshen up a little, for my armour is torn and heavy, and my wounds need a drop of cure, just let me look for Athelas, if this curing plant grows on the plains of Valinor meadows, of course.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»We… we are not in Valinor, Glorfindel,« you gather all your strength not to sit down from amazement. »Th-this is Earth. Europe.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Amazing! How miraculous! What have the Valar planned for me this time, I wonder! It appears my deeds are not yet finished among the mortals, for now I see that you are not an Elven maiden but a human one, and I deeply apologize if I have offended you in any way!« br style="max-width: 100%;" /»N-no, you haven't!« You suddenly stand on your toes and reach to his face. You gently touch his forehead and then his ear. It appears real. There is no prosthetics. He looks at you in surprise for a moment, but then his mouth grows into a warm style="max-width: 100%;" /»Forgive me, my lady, but you appear to be in some kind of a shock? Have you not met an Elf before?«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»No…« you still stare at him in amazement. His green eyes light up like two beautiful sparkles./p
p style="max-width: 100%; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px;"You mourn your precious Silmarillion. You mourn it so much you can't really eat anything and leave grandpa's house in the afternoon again. You take a wooden ladder with you, and an old broom. You'll try and get it back. It's been with you since forever. Maybe you could place it on the sun for a few days and it would look like those old middle age manuscripts. Or maybe it will look like a ball of dirty paper, you think style="max-width: 100%;" /The birds are silent when you approach the spot. This really is a cursed place, you think angrily, shifting the ladder on your shoulder. You're just about to put it down by the nearby tree when you hear a splash. You style="max-width: 100%;" /»Help!«br style="max-width: 100%;" /The ladder falls from your hands with a loud thump. So does the broom. The voice seems to be coming from… You pick up the broom slowly and hold it like a weapon. Like a sword. Kind of. Are you imagining things?br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Anyone? Please, it's really damp and dark here!« The voice is DEFINITELY coming from the well. It's a bit muffed and distant, but it's a gentle voice. Not a panicked one, more like someone was humbly trying to ask for style="max-width: 100%;" /You get to the well slowly and you raise the broom above your head. Then you lean across the stony fence. br style="max-width: 100%;" /There is someone inside! His hair is wet and sticked to his forehead. He's holding onto a piece of wood, like a stow away after a sea storm. And he's looking directly at you./p
p style="max-width: 100%; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px;"»H-how did you get in here?« you ask, voice trembling, but holding the broom a little style="max-width: 100%;" /»Oh,« the stranger sounds genuinely surprised. »Well. I fell from a cliff.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»What?! What cliff! This is a well. In a forest.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Please, would you be so kind and help me up there, my lady? I will do everything I possibly can to explain anything you desire to know, just please, let me see the sunlight again, for the dampness has gotten through my armour and, well, I'm even a little bit hurt.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /This guy has had some serious brain damage, he must've gotten it when he fell in, you think to yourself, but you immediately get the ladder and lower it down the wall while holding it so he can climb up. Surprisingly, he doesn't need any help, even through he looked pretty vunerable from up there. And the ladder doesn't get the slightest bit heavier. How the…br style="max-width: 100%;" /He jumps across the wall of the well, with the help of your hand. And then you drop the ladder and it falls into the well with a loud tumble. So loud that some birds fly from the treetops nearby. There is a guy in armour standing in front of you. It's not a fake, it's real, beautiful armour. Furthermore, it's golden. There is a guy in golden armour standing in front of the well. The cursed well, you remind style="max-width: 100%;" /»Wha- what is this?!« you stare at him with your mouth literally open. You suddenly notice something else. His ears are not man-like. They have pointy tips. THEY HAVE POINTY TIPS? Furthermore, there's blood slowly streaming down his forehead and down his left cheek. He looks like he's been wounded. Probably from the fall into the damn style="max-width: 100%;" /»Forgive me,« he smiles warmly. And before you know it, at the second a smile appears on his lips, you hear the birds start singing somewhere closeby again. There is a feeling like the sun starts shining a little more intensely through the trees. And it gets a little bit warmer. In utter confusion, you take a step back and bump into a tree trunk with your back lightly. You hold onto that style="max-width: 100%;" /»For I have not yet been able to introduce myself. My name is Glorfindel, Captain of the House of the Golden Flower.« He places his right hand on his heart. It's a bit bloody and his chest armour gleams in the sunlight, and you can see the dust stains on the surface. You also catch a glimpse of your own face in it. You look like there's suddenly a competition of the longest silent scream coming from one's mouth, and you were sure you'd have won this competition if it exists somewhere. You must style="max-width: 100%;" /»This is- are you kidding me?«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»I apologize,« his face grew worried. »I am not acquainted with this expression, please forgive me. But I do assure you, I really am Glorfindel, Glorfindel of Gondolin, and from whichever Elven house you come from, I shall try my best to learn your habits. But first, I would be extremely grateful if I could reunite with my dear friend, Echtelion, for I have lost him in battle before I myself was doomed, and I really must make sure he's safe in the hands of the gentle folk of Valinor- »br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Y-you are Glorfindel?« Your heart starts racing in your chest like a scared little bird in a cage. Something was telling you this is not a cosplay. This couldn't have been a style="max-width: 100%;" /»Indeed. And I must thank my saviour, for I owe my freedom to you, beautiful fay, please, would you tell me your name,« he still is holding his hand over his style="max-width: 100%;" /You stammer your style="max-width: 100%;" /»But-but you are from a book! Glorfindel is an Elf from The Silmarillion! How-»br style="max-width: 100%;" /»A book mentions my deeds? This is so kind!« he laughs, and suddenly, a ray of sunlight lightens up the place where you two are standing, and little flowers start peeking out from the moss on the well. It all happens in style="max-width: 100%;" /»Y-NO! Professor Tolkien wrote a book! He wrote a story! He wrote a story about Arda! About its creation- he wrote everything!« you half stammer, half style="max-width: 100%;" /»This sounds enchanting!« he is still smiling, and he suddenly steps closer and takes your hand. His hand is still clothed into an armoured glove, but it's been torn at places and there are scratches on his wrist. But he holds your hand gently and stares directly into your eyes with style="max-width: 100%;" /»Please, tell me more! But I must ask you,my lady, would you have any place I could freshen up a little, for my armour is torn and heavy, and my wounds need a drop of cure, just let me look for Athelas, if this curing plant grows on the plains of Valinor meadows, of course.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»We… we are not in Valinor, Glorfindel,« you gather all your strength not to sit down from amazement. »Th-this is Earth. Europe.«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»Amazing! How miraculous! What have the Valar planned for me this time, I wonder! It appears my deeds are not yet finished among the mortals, for now I see that you are not an Elven maiden but a human one, and I deeply apologize if I have offended you in any way!« br style="max-width: 100%;" /»N-no, you haven't!« You suddenly stand on your toes and reach to his face. You gently touch his forehead and then his ear. It appears real. There is no prosthetics. He looks at you in surprise for a moment, but then his mouth grows into a warm style="max-width: 100%;" /»Forgive me, my lady, but you appear to be in some kind of a shock? Have you not met an Elf before?«br style="max-width: 100%;" /»No…« you still stare at him in amazement. His green eyes light up like two beautiful sparkles./p