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Bog-worms, to our knowledge, are our own creation.
The next morning, Gandalf made ready for the journey, assisted by Saruman, who was able to limp about by using a walking stick that Gandalf had found for him. They loaded Gandalf's cart with provisions like food, flasks of water, and bedding. Then Gandalf went around the back of the hut and returned with a bay mare that he hitched to the cart.
"I believe we're ready," he said to Saruman, and they both climbed aboard the cart, and their journey began. The cart did not move terribly fast, but it was not long before they were out of the forest where Gandalf lived and were passing through sprawling fields of white flowers. Eventually the fields gave way to hills, and some of the hills appeared to have round doors set into them.
"That there is the Shire," Gandalf said as he gestured in the direction of the hills. "Remember when I mentioned the Hobbits? That is where they live. That house we're closest to, that's the home of Bilbo Baggins. I would stop by to visit, but we are in a bit of a hurry to reach our destination. I've already sent the message to the other wizards, and they should already be on their way.
"Forgive me for my curiosity, but how did you send the message?" Saruman asked. He couldn't imagine the old man had a communicator, or even a telescreen.
""I sent it by dragonfly," Gandalf said simply, like such things were normal. "Usually we would send messages by moth or bumblebee, but urgency dictated that I should use the fleetest of insects."
"How can an insect carry a message?" Saruman asked, puzzled. He wondered for a moment if the insects here were larger than normal…or what he knew as normal, anyway.
Gandalf chuckled. "Ah, dear me…I suppose I'll have to explain it all for you. I keep forgetting you are not of this world, so you do not yet have knowledge of how it came to be, or even who and what I am. You see, this land is what we refer to as Middle Earth, but more formally, it is called Arda. It was created as a space between two other worlds by the almighty Eru, who lives in a universe outside our own. Then he created mighty beings called the Valar, who formed living creatures in the worlds in accordance with Eru's grand design. All the plants and animals and intelligent beings in Middle Earth came from the Valar, who blessed them with gifts of skills, creativity, and knowledge. Finally, the Valar created five beings to live on the mortal plane to maintain peace and offer counsel to Elves, Dwarves, and Men. These are the Maia, or 'wizards' as the mortals say. The Valar gifted them with wisdom and magic and special abilities, such as communicating with animals, both great and small."
"So you're one of these Maia," Saruman said slowly. "You're not human…you're immortal?"
Gandalf smiled lightly. "Do not misunderstand—you are correct in saying I am not human, though I bear the likeness of an old man and rather enjoy this identity. But I am still very much able to die. I will not die from old age—I am centuries old already, and I will never get sick or suffer from poison or disease. But, like the mortals, I have my limitations. For instance, I could not expect to survive a fall from a mountain peak, or live after being swallowed by the fires of Mordor."
"I suppose not," Saruman murmured. He took a moment to look around and saw that they were passing through ripe fields, where smallish people appeared to be heard at work. Their faces were ruddy and youthful, and Saruman thought they must be children.
"Who are those children?" he asked. "And where are all the adults?"
Gandalf laughed. "Those are the adults, my friend. And don't let them hear you calling them children—they tend to take offense at that. Those are the Hobbits. They are a small but resilient people. You can see now why we often refer to them as Halflings."
Saruman did see, and he got an even better view when three of the nearest Hobbits cam running up to their cart. Gandalf slowed his horse and looked down with a warm smile.
"Ah, good morning. Let's see if I can remember your names…" he looked thoughtful for a moment before pointing at each of them in turn.
"Galvin Silbrose, Ragby Cullins, and Tomhart Ganjee."
"That's right, sir!" the one called Ragby said brightly. "That's a mighty fine memory you have there."
"I suppose it's part of being old," Gandalf said modestly.
"I see you have a stranger with you," Galvin observed, eyeing Saruman curiously. "I don't think we've met yet."
"Perhaps he'd like to join us for noonsies," Tomhart suggested. "Then we could all get properly acquainted, and you could all meet my new baby boy, Samwise."
"I'm afraid we haven't the time for that," Gandalf said gently. "Perhaps another day."
"Then at least introduce us," Ragby insisted. "What is your name, friend?"
"Saruman," Saruman replied. "I'm—"
"A newcomer," Gandalf interrupted, "Sent by the Valar. I'm taking him to meet the other wizards, so we must be off."
The three Hobbits shared excited looks, as they all respected the Valar and the wizards.
"Well, best of luck to you," Tomhart said sincerely. "And feel free to join us for an evening when you return."
Gandalf and Saruman both waved in farewell, and they continued down the road.
The farmlands of the Hobbits gradually gave way to untilled grassland, and that eventually gave way to moorlands which were covered in purplish-grey heather that waved to and fro, tossed by the gentle caresses of the breeze. By now, the sun was low in the sky, almost to the point of setting, and Gandalf stopped his horse.
"We should make camp for the night," he said, getting off the cart to unhitch his horse and tie her tether to a lonely sapling. Saruman eased himself down to the ground, wincing as he put weight on his bad leg.
"I could get to work on a campfire," he offered, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Gandalf gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure your leg can handle it?"
"I've had worse," Saruman said, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Besides, I want to practice some of those spells I learned from your book."
"Very well," Gandalf said uncertainly. "Just don't go far, and call me if you need help." He set to work unloading bedding and food from the cart, and Saruman limped off to find kindling and stones for the fire. When he had built a circle of stones to contain the fire, he set about creating a pile of kindling. While dried heather burns bright, it does not burn very long, and Saruman could only find a precious few pieces of wood since trees are scarce on the moors. When he had gathered all the pieces he could find near the campsite, he widened his search. Finally he found splinters of old, broken wood, and as he picked them up he realized it was a trail. The trail led him to a shallow ravine, and in the waning light it lay deep in shadow so that he could not see into it. He took one of the pieces of wood he was carrying under his free arm and lit the end with a fire spell. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness, but when he peered into the ravine he almost wished he had left the darkness alone. At the bottom of the ravine was the source of the wood splinters: a broken wooden cart that was rotting from seasons of exposure to the elements. A skeleton lay by the cart as well as a large bones that had probably come from a horse. All the flesh had been picked away by wild beasts, except for the flesh of another corpse that Saruman could not even begin to identify. The skin looked pale and rotten, the eyes sunken and large. Saruman caught an odor from it that was so revolting, it was no wonder that even the animals chose to leave it alone. Saruman wasn't sure what had happened here, but it was probably more important than building a campfire. He had to show this to Gandalf.
Gandalf had been worried when Saruman called out for him, but his countenance quickly changed when he went to the ravine with Saruman and peered in. "Orc," he growled, frowning. "Must've ambushed a lone traveler, but it would seem its attack led it to die alongside its prey."
"What's an orc?" Saruman asked. He guessed it was something repulsive, since he had never seen Gandalf express such revulsion before.
"Creatures of the darkness," Gandalf said, pointing to the corpse with his staff to set it ablaze. "There is debate as to whether they have souls, but in my opinion they are empty shells, more beast than intelligent beings. That is why they were so easily twisted and swayed by Sauron to join his forces as loyal, mindless servants."
Saruman looked thoughtful as he watched the corpse being consumed by the flames. "And who exactly is Sauron? I understand he is a dark force, as you briefly mentioned before."
"Let us go back to camp," Gandalf said, turning away from the blaze. "I'll explain there.
Now the sun was gone, and two moons rose to fill the sky with an ethereal, silver light. Saruman knew they were actually two planets, but the knowledge made them no less beautiful. He sat before the fire he had crafted with the kindling he had gathered, eating an apple as he listened to Gandalf. The old wizard sat beside him, puffing on his pipe between sentences.
"Remember how I said that there were five Maia, created by the Valar? They were intended to do good things and maintain peace in Middle Earth. For a long while, this was so. Unfortunately, it did not last, for one of the Valar decided to abandon Eru's design and create discord in Middle Earth. This being, Melkor, was what brought evil into the world and introduced mortals to rebellion and greed and death. In the end, Melkor was overthrown and banished from this world, but not before he corrupted the heart and mind of one of the Maia—Sauron. Now, Sauron sought to serve Melkor, and ultimately to be like him. He followed his master's every whim until his master was overthrown. At that point, Sauron attempted to become powerful and rule in Melkor's stead. He used his magical abilities to forge the rings of power, with which he intended to take over Middle Earth. It was only by the alliance of the Elves and Men that he too was overthrown and vanquished. When he was separated from his Rings, he lost his corporeal form, for the rings were all that tied him to the physical world. Should he be united with even one of the lesser rings, he would be able to manifest his physical form again, and wreak havoc on Arda."
Saruman absorbed the story grimly, his thoughts drifting back to the influence of dark forces in his past life. He was struck by the parallels between the two—Melkor was like Palpatine, and Sauron was like Saruman…not that he had intended to do evil, and in actuality had been trying to do a good thing by pretending to serve the Sith lord. He felt a bit ashamed to be comparing himself to someone who was so despised, but it did give him a bit of perspective. It's not too late to change my role, he thought as he lay back on his bedroll. Perhaps now, in this new world, I can have the new life I had so desperately wished for. With this last thought, he gazed up at the starry sky and promptly fell asleep. His dreams were dark and filled with horrific visions: the Jedi temple being overrun by Republic troops, Jedi being mowed down relentlessly, children being murdered in cold blood. He heard their screams and felt the heat of the laser blasts, but he was powerless to do anything about it. Then, to his absolute horror, he saw his former master, Darth Sideous, approaching him with his red lightsaber drawn.
"I'm watching you," he rasped, cackling wickedly before bringing his blade down on Saruman's paralyzed form.
He woke up in a cold sweat, surprised to see that the sun was already rising above the horizon. Gandalf was loading things back into the cart, but he came over to Saruman's side when he realized his companion had awoken.
"Ah, good morning! Did you sleep well? You seemed to be slumbering deeply, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. We have a long journey today, and I thought you needed all the rest you could get."
Saruman didn't reply, still struggling to shake of the last vestiges of his disturbing dream. He ignored the pain in his leg as he rolled up his bedroll and stood up to put the bedding in the cart. He forced a smile to cover his discomfort. "We'd best be going, then."
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Saruman's mood lightened somewhat. The road they traveled passed beside a wide stream, and for a long way the land was covered in golden grasses that danced in the breeze. In the distance, Elk grazed in small herds, and birds of various kinds darted in and out of sight among the grass. Unfortunately, this idyllic scenery did not last. Over time, Saruman became aware of the grass losing its golden sheen. The elk disappeared. Birds no longer chirped or flew about. The stream grew narrow and murky, and the sky overhead became grey and misty.
"Where are we?" Saruman asked, concerned by the grim expression that had come over Gandalf's face.
"We're passing through Deepmire," the wizard replied, urging his horse to a fast trot. "Usually I would take the long way around, but this is the fastest route to our destination."
"Then why take the long way at all?" Saruman inquired. "Surely the shortest way is the best."
"Not for ordinary travelers," Gandalf said ominously. "You see, the stream we were following ends here, feeding this marshland. The vapors released from the rotting plants and soil makes the sky dark and gloomy. It poisons the water and makes the air smell foul. That is why only monsters reside here."
"Monsters?" Saruman echoed. Images of great beasts filled his mind—Rancors and Sarlacs, and the vicious, voracious Acklays. He shuddered to think such creatures lurked here, waiting to ambush them at any moment. He glanced at Gandalf.
"What sort of monsters?" he dared to ask.
"Giant spiders, snakes, that sort of thing," Gandalf replied. "At one time orcs also dwelt in places like this, after Sauron fell and they spread out to the wild places of the world. They've all but died out by now, save for a few populations in the deepest, darkest places."
"And what would we do if we were to encounter any of these monsters?"
Gandalf smiled tightly. "If worse came to worse, we would have to fight them off. I know a few banishing spells that could repel them, but that may not work if they are hungry enough. They would attack the horse first, but even then I could not forgive myself if anything happened to Willow. I've raised her since she was a foal…"
As touching as the sentiment was, Saruman was distracted from Gandalf's words when he noticed a faint splashing noise. He looked into the swampy water along the side of the road, amused to see a tiny reptilian creature slithering haphazardly through the water. It looked very much like a salamander, except that it had a large, dome-shaped head, webbed fingers, and a long, narrow body that was about a foot in length. It was the color of fresh mud but with blue spots, and the tip of its whip-like tail was jet black. It had a comical-looking face, with tiny, beady eyes and a comparatively huge mouth that curved upwards, like it was smiling. This silliness was enhanced by the fact that the little creature was twirling as it swam or slithered through the water. After watching the little creature's antics for several moments, Saruman chuckled.
"What is it?" Gandalf asked, glancing at him.
"Just a funny, swimming lizard," Saruman replied.
"Where?" Gandalf asked, his voice taking on an intensity that was almost frightening.
"Just over there, swimming along the side of the road beside us."
"Bog-worms," Gandalf muttered darkly, urging Willow to go faster with insistent flicks of the reigns. Saruman wrinkled his brow apprehensively. "That didn't look like a worm to me at all. Is it dangerous?"
"Not worm as in the kind you put on your fishing line," Gandalf said distractedly as he looked about for danger. "'Worm' is the insulting term for a dragon, or any kind of reptile. Bog-worms are indeed dangerous, perhaps even more so than the giant spiders."
"It didn't look dangerous to me," Saruman murmured. "Strange, and a bit comical, maybe."
"That's what they want you to think," Gandalf growled. "It's how they trick you into lowering your defences before they spring at you to attack. One on its own is easy enough to kill, but where there is one, there are usually far more. And therein lies the danger."
Saruman was about to ask him to elaborate, when the swimming Bog-worm emerged from the water and scuttled into the middle of the road on its tiny legs. It snarled and opened its large mouth, showing rows of small, but razor-sharp teeth. Willow stopped and reared, upsetting the cart. Gandalf and Saruman fell off and landed on the ground, and all hell broke loose as more Bog-worms slithered out of the water and attacked. Saruman jumped to his feet, forcing himself to remain steady without the walking stick, which had fallen somewhere. He grabbed his lightsaber and activated it, the red blade blazing to life. This startled the Bog-worms, but only for a split second. It was long enough for Gandalf to burn a few of them with fire from his staff, and Saruman sliced two in neat halves with his lightsaber. But for every one that they killed, another rose from the swamp to take its place. Some even devoured the dead Bog-worms before joining the attack.
It was not long into the melee that Saruman became exhausted, and he panicked as he felt himself growing weaker. The Bog-worms were gaining the advantage, pressing both him and Gandalf close to Willow. Gandalf attempted this banishing spell, but it had m minimal effect. A particularly feisty Bog-worm leapt at Gandalf and bit him in the shin, and he cried out in pain before vaporizing the vile little creature with a lightning spell. The cry seemed to send a new surge of adrenaline through Saruman, and his mind delved into his basest instinct to survive.
"Enough!" he bellowed, throwing up both hands before him. He Force-pushed all the Bog-worms surrounding him and Gandalf, sending dozens of the creatures flying. He shouted a flame spell he remembered from Gandalf's book, and the Bog-worms were enveloped in fire. They squealed in pain, running back into the water. Not all of them survived to make it, but those that did disappeared beneath the mire.
When the little beasts were all gone, Saruman sunk to the ground, the adrenaline rush gone. He spotted his walking stick nearby and crawled over to it. Gandalf limped over to him and sunk to the ground beside him.
"That was impressive," he said, chest heaving as he caught his breath. "I knew you could cast fire spells, but when did you learn that other stuff?"
"I, er, skimmed the rest of your book," Saruman said, not sure the time was right to reveal that he had powers from another world. "I used some things I learned from the book, and improved the rest."
Gandalf didn't look quite like he believed that, but he said nothing more about it as he examined his bloody leg.
"I knew I should have brought my apothecary satchel," he said, cursing under his breath. "I didn't anticipate any injuries on this trip, particularly for myself."
"Let me try something," Saruman said, tearing off a piece of the hem of his robe to wipe off some of the blood. He looked at the wound to get an idea of it, put both hands over it, and closed his eyes. He searched his memory for the words he had read in the book, and found them. He whispered them softly, like saying them too lout would break the spell. He opened his eyes and lifted his hands from Gandalf's leg, and was not disappointed.
"You healed it," Gandalf said, the wonder clear in his voice.
"It was a spell from your book," Saruman said with a shrug. "It only works on surface wounds…I tried it on myself, but it didn't work."
"Even so," Gandalf said, growing excited, "It takes years of practice to be able to use any kind of healing spell…unless you are a wizard—a Maia!"
"I thought you already believed I was," Saruman said. "At least, that's what you told those Hobbits."
"I had a hunch," Gandalf said, "But now there is no doubt about it. You may not know much about our world yet, but no one can deny that your powers are equal to that of the Maia. So what else could you be?" He stood up to test his leg. Finding there was no pain, he righted the cart and untangled the reigns. With Saruman's help, they gathered up the items that had spilled out of the cart, and were soon traveling down the road again. It may have been luck that kept them from meeting any other beasts on the way out of the swamp, but in any case they were able to leave it and come out on the other side without further incident.
"On the return journey," Gandalf said, "We're taking the longer road."