Author's Note: This one ended up longer than I thought it'd be, but it was worth it. I hope you all enjoy; don't forget to give me some feedback!

. . .

"I just don't get it," Estel mumbled to herself, as she is so apt to do. "I know for sure that I brought my running shoes when I moved to Florida. I know I did; it was a very purposeful act. How can they not be here anymore?"

"Did you leave them in Texas when you went home over the break?" her roommate suggested.

Thalion shrugged her shoulders. "They're kind of bulky; I don't know why I would have wasted the space in my bags for shoes and then also forgotten to bring them back to school."

"Well, do you have other shoes you can wear?" her roommate inquired.

Estel gave a long sigh and cast a glance at the only other option: a pair of very worn of shoes that cannot rightly be placed into any category of footwear, or at least no category that the shoe-knowledge-impaired writer knew of. They were slightly too big for Thalion's small feet, and any support they had once given was worn away. They bore no laces, being of the kind you simply slip on, and the inside material had been rubbed until threadbare. The outside fabric had also seen a lot of action, possessing holes big enough for one to see through. The shoes would not be ideal for a day trip the Everglades.

"I guess I can wear those," Thalion at last acknowledged in defeat. "After all, we're not supposed to be doing much walking."

Her roommate nodded encouragingly, but Estel's heart still misgave her. However, there was nothing she could do, and she would not have guessed that something so trivial was actually part of a much bigger evil plot.

. . .

Clearly the human manning the booth at the national park's entrance had never seen the likes of orcs before, and he had definitely not even imagined something like the semi-corporal spirit of Sauron, looming dark and terrible before him. His response, when the evil crew burst into the building, was to jump back in fright, bump into a desk behind him, and crash with many other objects onto the floor.

"If you cooperate, you shall be permitted to carry out your miserable, mortal life for the few years it will last under natural circumstances," Sauron's great voice boomed in the tiny room, causing the man to nearly faint. "Will you obey, or shall my minions drive submission out of you?"

The man was apparently unable to respond, but his clear lack of resistance was enough for Sauron to assume that there would be obedience. The orcs rushed forward and lifted the man to his feet, holding his arms securely so that he could not run away (though he hardly would have been capable in his current state).

"How much do the shuttles down the trail cost?" Sauron demanded. The orcs had to give their captive a good shaking to get him to attempt speech, and even then it was hard to understand his frightened voice.

"They don't cost," he answered, not daring to look up. "The price to get into the park covers it all."

Sauron let this run through his mind, weighing his options. "What is the path's distance by foot?" he inquired after a moment.

"Eight miles one way," the man responded. "Sixteen total."

A low, dangerous laugh echoed from Sauron's spirit, and he felt an intense pleasure with himself. "I knew that she would need those running shoes," he cackled before turning his mind to the mortal at hand. "You will enforce a price for the tram," the Dark Lord commanded. "It must be beyond what a college student can afford. If you so much as whisper about this encounter, you will not live long enough to regret it. Do you understand, foolish child of men?"

A shaky nod was the only answer, but it was enough for Sauron. His dark presence slowly filmed out of the room, and the orcs roughly shoved the unfortunate man away as they followed their master. A storm was brewing, both figuratively and, as Sauron was now working on, literally as well.

Sauron, as you know, can produce fumes from Mordor just as was seen in the siege of Gondor. But he can also make regular clouds, for after all, weather patterns are caused by wind and temperature, and Sauron can influence those with surprising skill. Now that Estel would be forced to walk so many miles in the open swamp, with no shelter to protect her, he would ensure that the hike was a disaster.

While the Dark Lord was busy doing his very dignified version of a rain dance, the car bearing Thalion and some of her peers made its way south towards the Everglades. The amount of hours it took to drive down to the Everglades from her school is classified. However, suffice it to say that the drive there and back can be accomplished in one day with time to sight see, but at the same time, you end up spending much more time in the car than in the national park.

"I knew our way was faster," the driver said happily as they neared the park's entrance. "Who needs to see Miami?"

"And we didn't have to pay tolls," another student added.

"Are the others still lost?" Estel inquired, less excited that they had won the unofficial race to the park and more concerned with the whole group arriving so that the troop could into the park. She'd had lots of enjoyable national park experiences in her lifetime, and she also really wanted to see some alligators.

"I don't know," replied Thalion's roommate. "They said the GPS led them to a car dealership."

The others laughed at this, and it was indeed funny, but Estel only managed a nervous chuckle. That was quite a freak accident; maybe a little too freaky to actually be an accident. Surely the orcs could not have followed her all this way, right?

It took a while longer, but before noon, all three vehicles finally arrived at their destination. There they were greeted with a long line and overflowing parking lot, forcing them to drive back onto the main road and park in the grass beside the busy lanes. They then made their way to the entry, hoping to quickly gain access to a tram and thus be taken to their objective: a concrete observation tower. They were greeted with an unpleasant surprise.

"Tram tickets cost twenty-four dollars," one student informed the group soberly as he came back from his mission of securing their ride.

The faces of the broke college students fell, and they looked at each other nervously.

"I only have five dollars," one of Estel's peers announced, no doubt saying what most people were thinking. The writer nodded, for even though she had a bit more than that, she didn't have enough, and there was no way she would have spent that kind of cash even if she did possess it. She could eat for at least ten days off of that much money!

"Well, we can walk it, I guess," someone suggested. Indeed, there wasn't really another option; they hadn't driven all morning to turn around, and if they went further south to another part of the park, it would take even longer to drive back. But there was no doubt it would be a long walk.

The group agreed and, after paying the fee for entry that was necessary just to walk the path, they went to the visitor center. There they grabbed some maps, made their way to the trail head, and began the walk. Estel seemed to be the only one who noticed the distance of the hike.

She really didn't think they would even attempt to make it all the way. The furthest she had ever walked in one day was seven miles, though to her credit, that was lugging a heavy backpack up a mountain in the wilderness. This was a paved path on flat ground, but sixteen miles is still sixteen miles.

After half an hour of walking, a very large blister somehow developed in the dead center of Thalion's right foot, perhaps due to her lack of adequate footwear. She began limping on it as nonchalantly as she could, but this only caused pain in other parts of her feet and legs as she put incorrect stress on her bones and muscles. And it made it even harder that her peers were somehow all simultaneous endowed with immunity to pain and weariness, and they never stopped for a break.

It was nice to see some alligators, though. Estel was of course worried that these creatures had some allegiance to Sauron, but as it turned out, they were actually quite lazy. One girl in the party even tried her luck by grabbing the tails of two rather large beasts, but they didn't react. Thalion behaved like a perfect tourist, snapping pictures and acting like alligators were special, even though she had been told that they actually lived in her area of Texas as well.

But once the awe of the mini-dragons had subsided, things went downhill fast—unfortunately not literally. First, there were only tiny little sprinkles peppering the band of travelers as they walked. However, these sprinkles soon turned into big drops, the wind picked up considerably, and before you could say, "I didn't think it was supposed to rain today", there was a legitimate downpour falling on the group of now pathetic-looking college students. The wind was so strong that it caused the rain to soak only the writer's left side, making her jeans appear striped. Her ball cap graciously shielded her eyes, but otherwise she had no protection, making her fear for her camera's wellbeing.

Had she been alone, Estel would have certainly turned back at this point. After all, who would continue to put distance between themselves and cover without any assurance that the rain would stop? Apparently the answer to that question is the exact people that Thalion was traveling with. There was no question asked or alternative suggested; the troop simply continued forward.

The rain continued on and off for roughly half an hour before, by the grace of the Valar, it ceased. The students' clothes were slow to dry in the high humidity, but Estel was simply grateful for the break, and she was sure based on her aching feet that they would be turning around soon anyway.

"Look up ahead!" one of the students exclaimed. "I think that's the tower!"

To the writer's absolute horror, what was being pointed at was the tiniest speck on the horizon. It could have easily been a gnat hovering in just the right place so as to fool weary travelers. But the student was right, and Thalion's heart sank.

"I bet we're already half way there!" came a gleeful cry from another of the writer's peers.

Estel is a nice person, but it was hard to suppress a groan.

That little smudge was where they were headed? It looked like it could be ten miles away to Thalion's totally untrained eyes, and to her even less trained legs, it seemed unreachable. And that didn't even account for a return journey. Movie-verse Sam's line of despair penetrated her brain, though she didn't say it out loud. I don't think there will be a return journey. And if this trip did kill her, she wouldn't even be going out with her boots on because she was stuck with her current pair of incompetent shoes.

But what other options were there except to follow where her companions led? It wasn't as if this were the trek to Mordor she kept pretending it was: this was a fun vacation, right? Estel had a hard time fully embracing that idea, but she knew she would never enjoy herself if she made up her mind not to, so she put aside internal complaints and plodded onward, thinking with a smile of how great this would be once she put it into a semi-satirical story.

The travelers soon encountered another problem as they went along their winding path: the sidewalk was no longer above water level. Whether this was a result of the excessive rain or from Sauron's international pipeline of flood tunnels (which he uses whenever he wants to see mortals scurry, though scholars and archeologist alike are unsure both how or where this tunnel system exists), Estel did not know. Probably the latter, but since her companions didn't suspect anything, she just pretended to believe it was a natural occurrence. And anyway, who would build a path only a few inches above the surrounding swamps in a place that is susceptible to so much rain?

Regardless of the architecture or weather, the path was flooded and there was nothing to do except wade through it. The depth of the puddles varied from a thin glazing across the pavement to a few inches deep, and the result was totally soaked feet. This did not make walking much more pleasant, but again Thalion just remembered with a grin that this would soon be a happy and funny memory. If they made it back alive, that is.

The group had by now split up into two main parties, Estel being a part of the self-proclaimed Magnificent Seven. These brave souls, slightly behind the other pack, did enjoy much fun conversation to pass the (thousands of?) miles between them and the tower. The concrete structure steadily got bigger and bigger ahead of them, its growing size being the only thing that kept Thalion from dropping the I'm-just-as-strong-as-you-guys charade and begging for a break.

At long last, three hours and no stops after the beginning of the journey, the weary crew arrived at the foot of the tower. It had a long, winding ramp of white that made a circle until it reached the platform on the top. The less-cool walking group was waiting for the Magnificent Seven, all with their shoes off and snacks out. Thalion basically collapsed onto the ground when she reached the platform, taking in the beautiful view while she munched on her soggy tortillas.

Selfies were taken in abundance, a few inside jokes were created, and socks were twirled in the air to dry them. But within only twenty minutes, the students were somehow ready to begin the trek back. The Magnificent Seven wanted to take the same twisting, longer trail back to the visitors' center since it was more exciting. Estel was flabbergasted at the idea of adding a mile just for scenery they had already seen, but if she left the group, she would be a no-good traitor, wouldn't she? And look what happened at the breaking of the Fellowship in The Lord of the Rings: a casualty had immediately resulted. Thalion was not going to be the cause of someone's death, so with a sigh but then a determined nod, she followed the Magnificent Seven. She could do it. For Boromir!

She of course knew beforehand that she would be desperately wishing she had taken the shorter route, but the onslaught of self-criticism was still pretty severe as the afternoon dragged on. She coped with herself by calculating the hikers' average speed per mile and then estimating the distance and time between them and their cars. She actually felt pretty awesome when, after someone asked how far they had to walk, her educated guess of 2.75 miles was then comparted to a GPS's precise answer of 2.7 miles. Her weak little brain had been within a twentieth of a mile!

You must understand, readers, that Thalion doesn't have many victories. Thus she must celebrate each one, however pathetic.

The sun slowly made its way toward the horizon before finally plunging the world into darkness. But thankfully, their lack of breaks enabled the Magnificent Seven to make it to the main road before it was pitch black, and they even beat some of the members of the less-cool group who had taken the smaller route. By this time, with over sixteen miles under her belt, Estel was very near physical collapse; no joke. She had some muses show up along the last stretch to give her pep talks of encouragement, and through that and divine intervention, she at last made it to the car, fell into the backseat, and became mostly dead.

But there is a big difference between mostly dead and all dead, thankfully for Thalion.

The blur of events that occurred in the next several hours are difficult for Estel to reiterate because she was incoherent most of the time. Suffice it to say that through many hours of driving and switching of vehicles, Thalion at last got back to her apartment. It is not at all an exaggeration to say that when the writer went to mount the last flight of stairs, she could barely walk. Her feet were grotesquely swollen, hurting beyond words, and every muscle from head to toe was tight and near cramping. Had she been alone, the pain would have been enough to make her cry.

For an understanding of the last stage of this episode, one must go back a few hours to the apartment before the writer had arrived. You see, the Snagas had got word from their master that Estel had somehow survived the Everglades, and they had raced to her apartment in hopes of setting some deadly trap since, in her weak state, she would be more prone to insanity. But they were thwarted when they tried to open the door and found that the chain-like lock was fastened.

"Drat!" Snaga 3 growled. "One of 'em is in there!"

"Now what?" Snaga 6.023*10^23 inquired of no one in particular. "I'm not about to do some crazy stunt to mess with a car again," he added, rubbing some of his bruises from the last encounter.

The Snagas, though not known for strategy, paced outside the door for a few moments to consider their options. At last, Snaga 1 came up with a plan that was as good as any, and even the chemistry-inclined orcs went along with it.

Attempting to sow derision in the apartment and also prepare a reasonable inconvenience for Estel, the orcs quickly concocted a gaseous chemical which caused extreme drowsiness and sleep. They then reached through the crack of the door and let the chemical loose beside the vent of the air conditioning unit, scurrying away when the deed was done.

Going back to Estel's weary arrival, she stumbled to the door at past midnight, barely standing on hugely swollen and pain-filled feet. There she was greeted by some of her other roommates pounding loudly on the apartment door and desperately calling out the name of the one who was inside.

"The chain is still locked!" they called through the small opening in the door, knocking as forcefully as they could. Of course this was not really the best thing to be doing after midnight, but there was no other option. They could not get in, and could not wait outside.

After a few more minutes of banging, screaming, sending phone calls, and Estel carefully attempting to keep any anger in her peers at bay, the roommate inside somehow overcame the effects of the orcs' chemical. She fought against the unnatural exhaustion, stumbling towards the door to unlock it for the party of worn out travelers. She apologized profusely for having left the lock on, but Estel consoled her with the gut feeling that there had been more going on.

Plus it made the trip's story even more crazy and memorable, so why not just take it in stride?

And with that, Thalion's Everglades adventure came to an end. She could not walk the next day, only getting out of bed at great need, and for the next week she only managed a to hobble. Take in that information with the fact that Estel is not one to be dramatic about injury. A month later, she finally peeled the dead skin of the massive blister on her foot, but the discoloration is till obvious to this day.

This was the first time any of the sanity attacks literally left their scar on poor Estel, and it made her shudder to think of what could happen next.

. . .

Please be sure to leave me a review! Have any of y'all ever been to the Everglades, or perhaps a different national park?