Prologue
In the beginning there was the One, Ilúvatar, and nothing else; only the Void. And then the One created the Valar and the Maiar, "angels" of Middle-earth. And in the beginning, it was good.
The Valar and the Maiar were shown what the earth would be, and they came into the Void to create it, a home for Elves, Men, and all the other races who would live there. There was a first light, a pure light, unlike any the world has ever seen since. It came from the love of Ilúvatar for all things being created. But Melkor, a Valar whose heart had been corrupted by the desire for power, hated everything good and pure, and so he destroyed this first light.
And the other Valar fought an aweful war against Melkor, when much that they had created was destroyed. Yet in the course of time it was shown that even those things created by those whose hearts were corrupted could in the end turn to good.
And then came the Others. The Elves, doomed to live forever unless slain in war or by other mischance, and the Men, doomed to die after but a short span of years. The Dwarves, delvers of stones, great miners; and the Ents, guardians of the forests. And the Hobbits, half-grown hole-dwellers of great heart. Some are good and some are evil, but all are weak compared to the Valar and the Maiar, the first-born of Ilúvatar.
For good wanes, and evil wanes, and in these failing years nothing, neither good nor evil, is as strong as it was in the beginning. The first light perished, and the sun and the moon and all the stars in the heavens are poor substitutes. Yet in the twilight a flame unpredicted burned bright against the encroaching shadow. Such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere. Thus it has always been.
And thus it was, that the hope of the world could be borne in something as small and insignificant as a child.
In the beginning there was the One, Ilúvatar, and nothing else; only the Void. And then the One created the Valar and the Maiar, "angels" of Middle-earth. And in the beginning, it was good.
The Valar and the Maiar were shown what the earth would be, and they came into the Void to create it, a home for Elves, Men, and all the other races who would live there. There was a first light, a pure light, unlike any the world has ever seen since. It came from the love of Ilúvatar for all things being created. But Melkor, a Valar whose heart had been corrupted by the desire for power, hated everything good and pure, and so he destroyed this first light.
And the other Valar fought an aweful war against Melkor, when much that they had created was destroyed. Yet in the course of time it was shown that even those things created by those whose hearts were corrupted could in the end turn to good.
And then came the Others. The Elves, doomed to live forever unless slain in war or by other mischance, and the Men, doomed to die after but a short span of years. The Dwarves, delvers of stones, great miners; and the Ents, guardians of the forests. And the Hobbits, half-grown hole-dwellers of great heart. Some are good and some are evil, but all are weak compared to the Valar and the Maiar, the first-born of Ilúvatar.
For good wanes, and evil wanes, and in these failing years nothing, neither good nor evil, is as strong as it was in the beginning. The first light perished, and the sun and the moon and all the stars in the heavens are poor substitutes. Yet in the twilight a flame unpredicted burned bright against the encroaching shadow. Such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere. Thus it has always been.
And thus it was, that the hope of the world could be borne in something as small and insignificant as a child.