[Child of the 7th Age]

Child had said farewell to the dragon Angara with great reluctance for she had grown to know her well. She noticed how the King of Eagles and Thorondor had fixed on the beast with a puzzled look. For, never before in the First Age, had a flying dragon been seen. The Dark Lord had a plentiful number of wyrms, but only those that crawled upon the ground.

Once she had said her goodbyes, Child entered the tunnel and glanced nervously about its recesses. The party trudged forward through the darkness. The older hobbit kept her fingers loosely fixed over the hilt of her dagger, afraid that the shadows might pull back to reveal some hidden danger.

In Child's mind, the very rocks of the walls seemed to be whispering. They spoke of prophecies and doom not yet fulfilled as well as untold sadness and tears of frustration spilled forth without ceasing. Child found herself shuddering once again, but this time it was not the night air which chilled her soul to its core.

She could not imagine how her own people could ever survive in such a world. Even the difficulties of the late Third Age seemed to pale in comparison. It was as if every tree and tunnel and particle of soil had been corrupted by the machinations of Morgoth who loomed quietly over all. Here there was not a single Ringbearer to hold the powers of evil at bay, but an entire world of Elves, Men, and Hobbits who were commanded to stand firm in the face and presence of a shadow whose fingers lengthened and probed into every crevice of existence.

Child stumbled over a rock and found herself tripping, falling down onto the jagged floor of the cave. Mithadan's welcoming arms came forward in the darkness to catch her and set her forward on the winding path. Bird sputtered awkwardly at this interruption,. The crow lost her balance for a moment only to recover and perch once again on top of Child's shoulder.

Child herself was still lost in her imaginings. She found it difficult to envision hobbits living under such conditions. It was one thing to pick out a few gifted individuals whose task was to represent the community in its battle against the shadow. It was quite another to expect an entire population to take such a stand.

And what negative effects this situation must have had upon her people and their culture! Child's mind conjured up images of a low and brutish tribe, living only at the suffrance and pity of the Elves. She found herself uncomfortabe and saddened at this depiction.

Suddenly, from the front of the column, Mithadan's voice rang out with urgency, "Heads up. The stairs are just before us." Beyond these stairs, a light, dim but certain, began to glow.

[ August 02, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ August 10, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]