The Return of Saruman
Chap 1. The Task
Aerandir walked briskly down the cold alleyways towards his home, in the city of Dorthonion. He didn't like being out alone this late, you never know what might jump out at you. But he had no choice, he had been forced to risk the journey to his girl friend Isilwen Seregon's house, otherwise he risked her braking up from him. It was his fault really, he never should probably have been out with Tamuril last night, but it honestly wasn't anything serious. He was just going out with an old friend, but of course, rumors had spread, and he had been forced to go to Isilwen's house to explain the situation before things turned ugly.
Which is exactly where he was heading back from at nearly midnight. He was taking every shortcut that he could think of, but it was still a long journey on foot. For this was, of course, and Elvish city, since that's what he was, Elf. Elvish took much pride in their work, making their city's flourish and span great distances, all with a seeming beauty no other race could hope to achieve.
He was only about a mile from home when something that he had feared from the beginning of his trip home happened. He heard something that didn't sound Elf (Or Human for that matter) say his name. At first he thought it was just his fears, since he was afraid of that very thing happening in the first place. He paused, looking nervously around, double and even triple checking the shadows for anything that might be lurking there. As he turned slowly around, not hearing anything again, he began his resumed his walk once more.
Aerandir... There it was again, that voice calling his name, where was it. As he looked around again, he realized something that scared him to his inner most being; it was coming from his head.
Instantly he began walking back home faster, praying to any god that was listening to please let him get home safely. This time when the voice came, his head hurt along with it.
Aerandir, come to me. He fell onto his knees clutching his head in pain, wishing it to go away, but it just continued. We have work to do; we must prepare the way for Saruman. Saruman? What was this voice talking about? Saruman had long since been defeated, the legend Frodo, and his other companions, had, over fifty years ago, destroyed the ring in Mount Doom.
Suddenly, his vision blurred and he saw a man, shrouded in a cloak before him. He was bent over at the back, leaning heavily on his stick. Or rather, his staff as it turned out, judging by the white crystal ball at the top, encased in what looked like an Eagles claw. You could see no sign of any skin, or his face, therefore Aerandir could not determine what race he was. The only thing he was sure of, was the voice was coming from somewhere inside that cloak.
We must prepare the way for Saruman. Come to Mordor, and I will give you instructions upon your arrival. You will be well rewarded and compensated for your service in bringing the great Saruman back from beyond. If you refuse to come, you and your loved ones will suffer. You must set out immediately, waste no time. Heed my warning, you and your loved ones WILL suffer if you disobey, and you will be rewarded beyond your dreams if you but help the inevitable. A rider will come to your house tomorrow to start you on your journey, go with him. I will be waiting for you here.
And, with that, the voice and the man were gone. Aerandir stumbled forward, nearly falling a couple of times, but finally he felt less disorientated, and he quickly ran the rest of the way home.