An Unexpected Visit

After a quiet couple of weeks, I have both patched the roof with new lumber and confirmed that no more dangerous creatures lurk within the forest, at least at the moment. Restless and awaiting news from my father, I find myself unable to sleep one night and venture out into the early night air, slipping through the trees as naturally as I do in daylight.

For a while, a lone wolf keeps pace alongside my trail, and though he never approaches the way others do, I can sense that he means no harm, and so let him wander along as he pleases. He is thinking, in abrupt flashes of images and emotions – as animals do – of his last meal, a tasty young buck he felled only this morning. He's not hungry, so he's not hunting me. As far as I can tell, he's merely curious as to what I'm doing so far from home in the moonlight.

I'm so caught up in the wolf's thoughts that I don't sense the approach of another being until he's standing almost right in front of me, just a few paces up the path. I come to a halt in surprise, unprepared for his appearance, and my hand immediately goes to the dagger at my waist.

"It's quite late for you to be so far from home," the man says.

Getting a good look at him, I drop my hand from the dagger instantly, and run forward to greet the long-bearded old man in grey robes. "Gandalf! It's go nice to see you!" I've been without human company for long enough now that I might welcome a chance encounter with a greedy human peddler, lost and looking for the road.

"And you, Riniel," he replies, returning the hug I offer. "But still, I must wonder what has drawn you so far into the forest, alone and at night. Where is your father?"

"Father has gone looking for something, what it is, I don't know," I reply, stepping back onto the path. Gandalf turns to follow, heading back the way he came. "He's looking for answers, though where these answers are, I couldn't guess. He's been gone now fifteen days, and all this waiting is driving me mad. I stepped out for a late night walk, and here we are."

"These woods feel darker than they have in the past," Gandalf notes, glancing up at the tree branches high above us. "The family living down in the clearing has disappeared, their house left abandoned in ruins. Where have they gone, I wonder?"

"I haven't been that far from home in ages," I reply wistfully. I vaguely remember travelling with Father to visit, and playing with two young boys for the afternoon. "I had no idea they'd left. But strange creatures passed right by Rhosgobel the day Father left. We'd been finding dead forest creatures for a few days before –"

I halt my story mid-sentence as I notice my wolf companion's shift in thought. He's tense; a strange smell on the horizon, a little ways up the trail, back the way Gandalf came from. With his sharp sense of smell, the wolf identifies several newcomers upon the breeze. He smells creatures much like men, only with a sharper, earthier tang, as well as a mustier, ranker scent he's never smelled before. The wind lifts a faint hint of fire smoke above the other smells, a familiar enough danger that my companion retreats back into the safety of the woods.

"Are you travelling with others?" I ask, abandoning my story completely.

"Why, yes," Gandalf replies. I can tell he's impressed with my knowledge by the way his eyes light up. I hate to dampen his spirits with the rest of what I've learned.

"Well, then, we'd best return to them, and quickly," I say, picking up my pace. "Unless, of course, you'd rather continue your journey alone."

We race quietly down the path, and soon my own heightened sense of smell can identify the faintest whiff of campfire smoke, though I cannot yet pick out the rest of what the wolf sensed.

I can hear voices arguing loudly when Gandalf places a hand on my shoulder and stops me in my tracks. We've come to a halt next to a fallen tree, its great trunk laying along the ground, the roots sticking out of the ground awkwardly.

"Wait here," he says in hushed tones. He must see the glint of defiance in my eyes, for he adds, "I am going to go see what they've encountered. When I give the signal, you may follow."

Figuring I can trust the old wizard to keep his word, I give a faint, jerky nod, and step into the shadows to wait. Gandalf slips out of sight, moving forward to assess the situation, I'd assume. I wish, not for the first time, that I could sense people the same way I could sense the wolf earlier.

Then, as if I've thought it myself, I hear a single thought from Gandalf spoken straight into my mind through some sort of magic I've never seen from my father. Come quickly.

I creep silently around the fire, coming close enough to the group that I can see the flickering light upon the bark of the trees as I pass, though I can't make out what is going on. I reach Gandalf's position in a matter of a minute, darting behind trees as I pass by the edge of the clearing. He presses a finger to his lips, as though I was planning on speaking and giving away our position.

"There are three trolls in the clearing," he says, very quietly. I don't question how he knows so. "The sun is on its way up, but I'm afraid my friends don't have enough time left for it to rise above that large boulder to the east. I am going to split the stone, at which point I need you to do what you can to let as much light through to the trolls. The light must turn them to stone before they can escape."

The voices around the fire are blabbering on about worms, though I can't hear enough of what's going on to make sense of it. Keeping silent myself, I nod, and follow behind Gandalf as he heads for the giant rock blocking the morning sun. I keep back a few paces as he darts, quickly for an old man, over to the boulder and climbs upon it.

From where I stand, just off to the side of the rock, I can see down into the clearing through the shrubs I'm hiding in. Three giant monsters – trolls, I realize – are sitting around the biggest campfire I've ever seen, rotating a roasting spit upon which several unusually small men are tied. Several more are tied into giant sacks and tossed in a heap nearby.

"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf proclaims, capturing the trolls' attention. Mine, too, returns to the wizard.

"Who's that?" One troll asks.

"No idea."

"Can we eat him, too?" My first impression on the intellect of trolls is not a promising one.

Not bothering to reply, Gandalf simply raises his staff into the air and brings it down forcefully upon the boulder, both physical exertion and magic working together to split the stone clean in half. The early morning sun finally shines down into the clearing, its bright rays landing instantly on the two trolls in its path.

Realizing that one troll stands just far enough to the side to be safe, I dart out into the clearing, positioning myself beside the cleaved rock. With nothing else on me, I draw my dagger, glancing back just long enough to gauge the angle of the sunlight. The troll takes two great, panicked steps before I angle my blade, pleased to see the reflected light has the same effect upon the great brutes as a direct beam. The last of the monsters lets out a final shout before his face and feet freeze into stone and he comes to a stop a few paces from his cohorts.

First the dead animals and the spidery creatures, now a trio of trolls lurking in the forest. I stare at the beasts, wondering why my homeland, peaceful for so long, is suddenly crawling with dangerous creatures. I wonder if my father will share with me whatever answers he finds.

Only the triumphant cheering of the troupe breaks my gaze away from the great stone trolls now frozen around their giant fire. The men – all of them short, only one a deal less hairy – help each other out of the cooking sacks, obviously beyond relieved at the result of the wolf's instincts and Gandalf's quick thinking.