Love's Redemption | By : mthorsta Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 7108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
“Errr.” Jordan growled in exasperation, slapping at the alarm clock snooze button for the third time. She knew, though, she could no longer avoid the obvious. If she didn’t get up now, she would be late for her first day back at the hospital.
She finally threw the covers back and made her way into the bathroom turning on the shower. The ancient air conditioning system in Jordan’s building was ailing and the cool water was a refreshing welcome. ‘Ahh, the modern convenience of a shower’, she mused as the water ran over her head and face; one thing the technology savvy D’ni were lacking. She thought about how she would tell her father about the book she had in her possession, wondering if he would be angry for pretty much stealing an important archeological artifact. She answered herself with an emphatic yes. In fact, he would be furious. He was very protective over D’ni. Jordan cringed at the thought.
While making her rounds in the ER, she ran into Dr. Elsa Hildreth, the one behind her “forced” vacation. Dr. Hildreth’s face lit up upon seeing her.
“Jordan!” Dr. Hildreth exclaimed. “How was your vacation? You look great.”
“Hi Elsa. Uhh, it was good.” She said fairly enthusiastically.
“Well, your color has improved; I have to say it certainly agreed with you.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “See? I knew it was just what you needed. You were angry with me, eh?” poking Jordan with her elbow.
Jordan grimaced. “Well…”
“Yes. You were. But I knew it was the right thing for you.” She said with a devious smile. “You need someone to look out for you.” Elsa patted Jordan’s arm and straightened up again. “Well,” she said with a flourish, “I have a board meeting.” her sing-song voice indicating she was less than thrilled.
Jordan held up her clipboard, “And I have gastrointestinal distress in exam room 3.” She said meeting her tone. Jordan started walking towards exam room 3 when she heard Dr. Hildreth call her name.
“Jordan?”
Jordan turned around. “Yes?”
“Welcome back.”
Later that evening, Jordan sat in her apartment, turning the phone over and over in her hand. ‘Why is this so hard?’ she thought. She felt like a kid who had done something wrong and had to face her parents afterward.
“Okay.” She said and took a deep breath. “Here goes.” She slowly dialed her father’s number and cringed.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Jordan!”
“How are you?”
“Good, good. I just got back from a lecture at the university on the man-animal interactions of the Sámi in the 14th century.”
“Oh? Sounds…uhh…interesting.”
“Liar.” Her father said jokingly. “So, I hear your visit to D’ni was not without incident.”
“Yeah, you could say that. So you heard about Victor, then?”
“Yes, yes. Very unfortunate. It was good you were there to help, otherwise, the situation might have had a grimmer outcome.”
“Well, I did what I could with what I had to work with.” Jordan was silent for a while.
“You still there, my dear?”
“Yeah Dad, I’m still here.” She paused again. “When I was treating Victor for his injuries…I found something”
“Found something…You mean something wrong with Victor in addition to his injuries?”
“No. I mean I found something in the rubble of the building that collapsed on him.”
“Well, what was it?”
Jordan paused again. “The Rehmahrg Teh Dovah.”
It was her father’s turn to be silent.
“Dad? Say something.”
“So,” he said quietly, “It came to you.”
“What? Came to me? No, I found it…buried in a pile of rocks. What do you mean?”
“Think about this for a moment. What if the book had not been found all this time, because it did not wish to be found?”
“You’re joking right? You’re an educated, rational person, Dad. Are you suggesting this book has some sort of supernatural powers?”
“In the conventional sense, no, but there are many things about the D’ni we do not yet understand. Do you remember the last expedition you accompanied me on? The manuscript you found? It talked about an age - one of the greatest ages ever written; one that was once thought to have been destroyed.”
“I know, Dad. I know about the manuscript and the book.”
“Who told you?”
“A man named Zach who works for Victor. He knows the D’ni language just like you and…” He cut her off.
“Oh no.” He groaned. “You didn’t just hand the book over to him, did you?”
“Not exactly.” She said hesitantly.
“Okay, are you going to tell what you did do with it, then?”
“I took it. It’s hidden in my apartment.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”
“So, you’re not angry?”
“No, I’m not angry. I’m relieved to know it has not fallen into the wrong hands.”
“You mean Victor.”
“So! How did you get this Zach person to tell you about the Rehmahrg Teh Dovah without revealing the fact that you had the book?”
‘He’s changing the subject.’ She thought. “I told him I heard it from you. I asked him what Rehmahrg Teh Dovah meant and he told me the story behind the manuscript. That’s all.” After a brief pause, she said, “Why didn’t you tell me about the manuscript? Why the big secret?” She wanted to ask him why he lied about his reason for leaving the council, too, but felt maybe she should save that for another time.
“Well, no, ah, it’s not - it wasn’t a secret, I just - I really didn’t think it would be of interest to you. Your presence in the cavern was more to pacify an old man rather than a love of archeology, I dare say.”
“Dad! You know that’s not true.” Her father never stuttered or was at a loss for words. ‘He’s hiding something.’ She thought.
“Oh, Jordan, I know.” He chuckled to let her know he was joking but Jordan sensed a touch of sadness behind it. “You’re missing the point, though. You found an ancient document that experienced archaeologists could not find, like it was nothing.”
“Luck. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Was it? Then you find the one book that Victor has been searching all these years for and had failed to find. Doesn’t that seem a bit odd?”
“The whole place; the D’ni, the cavern, its all more than odd!” she said raising her voice.
“Okay, okay. No need to get upset. We don’t have to talk about that right now. So…you found the book, and now you want me to translate it; for that is why you are calling is it not?” He said bemused.
Jordan exhaled not realizing she had been holding her breath. “Yes. So, you’ll do it?”
“Of course! I’m just as eager to find out what it says as you are. Do you have a scanner?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll have to scan the pages into your computer and e-mail them to me; just a few sections at a time. We can’t risk sending the book through the mail.”
“How long will it take to translate them?”
“Less time than it used to. I have a program now that does the bulk of the work. Richard Watson developed it with the aid of a business associate who is a computer software engineer. Once the program has translated the document, I must then go back and edit it for any inconsistencies and errors. So, depending upon the length of the translation, I would say it could take a couple weeks per section.” After a pause, he said “I must say this is all rather exciting,” His tone losing some of its seriousness. “It was supposedly the most beautiful and wondrous of all the ages. I have often wondered what it must be like, and now I have the chance to read it in full detail. What does the linking panel show? Is there a clear image?”
“It seems clear, but I wouldn’t know what kind of distortion to look for. There are fine lines through the image but whether that is from deterioration, I can’t tell. It shows a massive semi-circular tower of white rock built into the side of a mountain range. It has many levels, the first one the largest and then each one becoming smaller in diameter as you go up. There are many windows and archways carved into the walls and it looks like an old medieval fortress. That’s about all I can tell you.”
“It sounds like whoever built it, must have had some engineering skills. The age must be at least partly civilized. I’m looking forward to hearing more.”
“Well, I’ll scan some of the pages and send them to you as soon as we hang up.”
“Now when you handle the book, take care not to touch the linking panel.”
“I will. So…how are you feeling?”
Her father groaned. “How foolish am I to think I was going to escape this time without a nosy inquisition into my health.”
“Quite.” Jordan said with a laugh.
“I’m fine.” He said with great emphasis on the ‘fine’. “I’m as healthy a horse.”
“Any more chest pains?”
“None. That old Dr. Whats-his-name gave me some nitro, I haven’t even used it!”
“Well, ‘that old Dr. Whats-his-name’ is the best cardiologist in Chicago. You’d best listen to him. You promise me now; you’ll go in immediately if you have any chest pain or shortness of breath? I know you. You may think you’re as healthy as a horse, but you’re as stubborn as an old goat!” They both shared a good laugh. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too, Jordan.”
“Bye.”
Jordan retrieved the box she hid the book in from the top shelf of her closet. She ran her fingers over the worn leather cover. It still caused a tingling sensation in her fingers but not as strong as the day she found it and it no longer frightened her. Sitting down at her computer, she opened the book to the linking panel and gazed at the tall white tower. She let her mind wander. What kinds of people lived or are still living there? What did they do? What did it look like inside? She wished very much she could go find out for herself. All she had to do was touch the picture; but it was impossible. Zach told her there was probably no way back; she could become trapped there, or worse, she could die. There were so many things that could go wrong. But still, there was the slim chance that the link was fully functional…no, it was best not to think about it. She carefully opened the book to the first page of text, placed it on the scanner, and began scanning in the first section to be translated.
In the following weeks, Jordan managed to resume her normal routine at the hospital, albeit a bit distracted waiting for the first translation from her father. After her shift, the first thing she did when she got home was check her e-mail and each time there was nothing. She was beginning to get discouraged. When she finally received the long awaited e-mail, she was so excited she jumped around like a child on Christmas morning. She ran into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine to go along with her reading material.
Jordan,
Finally, the first section is done! I regret that it took so long.
I had to made several revisions as I am a little rusty, but I am
confident now that translation is correct and no meaning has been
lost. The beginning is basically ‘the lay of the land’ as is typical.
I found it rather fascinating but you might find it a little dry. Enjoy!
Love,
Dad
She went on to read about ‘the shaping of Arda’ (as it was sometimes called) - an in-depth description of the various region’s geographical features, climate, and geothermal activity. It actually sounded a lot like Earth with mountain ranges, rivers, lakes, valleys, coastal areas, and forests. It was only about ten pages but she read them over and over again, letting the images form in her mind of what it would look like. Her father was right; it was pretty dry reading, like a text book. Immediately she wanted to know more. She wanted a more detailed account. She scanned in another section before going to bed. She knew it would be a while before she would find out those details.
Every couple of weeks, she would receive a new completed translation; each one more amazing than the last. When she was done reading it, she would scan in the next section for her father to translate. Occasionally they talked on the phone, sharing their thoughts and ideas on what they had discovered. As they gained more insight into the age, their conversations grew and they spent hours speculating on subjects such as what places looked like, who the people were, how they lived, and the technology they possessed. Through these phone conversations, Jordan grew closer to her father and their relationship strengthened. Jordan rejoiced in this reconnection and in some ways she felt less isolated and alone.
The next couple of sections translated described the regions in greater detail. It was everything she thought it would be and more. Not only did Tolkien describe these places, he went so far as to name each and every one, which was not customary. Places like the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood, Fangorn forest, the sea of Rhun, the Nimrodel, the Anduin River, and the Gladden Fields, just to name a few; all described down to the tiniest element. Again, she read the words over and over, absorbing every detail; each new detail compounding on the old until she had created the most vivid image of what was being described and those images were of some of the most breath-taking scenery she had ever seen.
Further translations of the book delved into various realms and cities; places like Gondor, Rohan, Lothlorien, Osgilliath, Ithilien, and The Shire. It was the description of a particular city in Gondor, however, that struck her. Its name was Minas Tirith and was described as having seven circular levels, each higher than the next, and was made of white stone. It sat at the base of Mount Mindolluin and was surrounded by a large stone wall. It seemed familiar to her. It finally dawned on her that Minas Tirith was the image shown in the linking window of the book. She immediately ran for the phone to tell her father.
“From what I can gather, Minas Tirith had a vast archive of books and ancient scrolls. It makes sense for Tolkien to have created a link to that spot. In fact, it’s entirely possible that the linking book back to D’ni is stored somewhere in that archive.” Her father explained.
“You really think so? Zach told me there was a good chance it had been destroyed or lost because of a war there.”
“Well, having an archive like that tells me preserving history and literature was of some importance to them. If they sensed an impending war, treasures and documents could have been locked away for safe keeping.”
“What if they didn’t know what it was or if it was of any importance?”
“That’s a possibility too, I suppose.”
“I guess we’ll never know then, huh?”
“Perhaps.”
It was this next section that captured Jordan’s imagination the most: the description of the peoples of Middle Earth. There was the race of men; their physical attributes very similar to the people of her world, but they lived in autocratic societies ruled by kings and queens, not unlike medieval England. However, there were others that sounded like they came right from a sci-fi fantasy: Hobbits - short in stature with hairy, thick-soled feet, never needing to wear shoes. They inhabited The Shire with its fertile land and rolling green hills. Lovers of all things nature; most of them were farmers or gardeners and lived a simple existence. Dwarves - a stout and hearty folk who were similar in height to hobbits but had long hair and beards. They dwelled deep underground in caves and mined for precious metals and jewels. Then there were elves. She had heard of elves before, imaginary of course; short with pointy ears, but other than the pointy ears, these elves were nothing like Santa’s helpers. They were tall, graceful and beautiful. Both males and females had long hair which they wore in intricate braids. But for all their delicate beauty, they were fierce warriors; deadly with both a bow and blades. Unlike any other race of people in Middle Earth, elves were immortal.
So far, her father had translated half of the book. She couldn’t imagine what other fantastic people or places she would read about next. As much as she looked forward to learning more, her thoughts always went back to the elves. She often daydreamed about them; what it would be like to meet one, talk to one. Were they like her or so totally different she couldn’t relate to them? What was it like to be immortal? How did they spend their time? Sometimes her thoughts were of a more personal nature focused particularly on a male elf she created in her head with long blond hair and blue eyes. She always felt foolish after thinking such things about someone who didn’t even exist. It made her all the more aware of how pathetic her life was. Even so, she could not get her “imaginary elf’ out of her head.
It was a pretty quiet day in the E.R., so Jordan took to stocking the exam rooms, usually a nurse’s job, but it allowed her to be alone. While she worked, she found herself daydreaming about her “imaginary elf” again. This time they were riding on horseback through the woods to have a picnic by a beautiful lake. Her thoughts were interrupted when a nurse popped in, startling her and causing her to blush as if this person could tell what she was thinking.
“Dr. Blakely? You have a phone call.”
‘A phone call? Who would be calling me here?’ She thought.
She walked quickly to the nurses’ station and picked up the phone. “Dr. Jordan Blakely.”
“Dr. Blakely, this is Dr. Anderson from the University of Chicago Hospital.”
Immediately, Jordan’s heart started pounding and her stomach jumped into her throat. She already knew what he was going to say.
“I’m calling about your father. I’m sorry to say, but your father has suffered a massive heart attack.”
Jordan couldn’t speak.
“Dr. Blakely, do you understand what I have just told you?”
“Yes.” She managed to croak out.
“Currently he is awake and resting comfortably but his heart has been badly damaged. He may not have much time left, so I would advise you and any other family members to come as soon as possible to say goodbye.
“Goodbye?” She squeaked as she tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.
“I’m sorry.”
She gathered all her strength and took a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She hung up the phone and looked up at the nurses who were standing around listening in on her conversation. “I’ve gotta go…my father…I’m sorry.” And she ran out of the hospital as fast as she could to where her car was parked and headed straight to the airport, not even thinking to stop at home and pack some things; there was no time.
Arriving at University of Chicago Hospital, she quickly stopped at the front desk to find where her father was.
“William Blakely. Let me look. Ahh! He’s in the ICU, cardiac wing. You go down this hall, first elevator to your left and go up to the fifth floor.” Said the cheerful young girl.
“Thanks.” Jordan replied. Once on the fifth floor, she went to the nurses’ station, stated who she was, and asked for her father’s chart. She looked over his troponin levels and EKG results. Her heart sank. Flipping through the chart, she noticed a do not resuscitate order, signed by her father. Taking the chart, she headed towards his room.
“Hi Dad.”
“Jordan! What brings you here?” He said, smiling.
“Very funny, Dad. What’s the meaning of this?” She asked holding up the DNR order in his chart as she sat down in the chair next to his bed.
“Jordan. You know I don’t want to be hooked up to machines. If it’s my time, it’s my time. I’m okay with that. I’ve had a good life. But I miss your mother terribly and God willing, I’ll see her soon.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do. I loved your mother with all my heart. I can still feel her here.” And he touched his heart. “I know we will be together again. One day I know you, too, will find the love that your mother and I shared.” They sat in silence for awhile. She thought about what her father said; talking about his own death like it was nothing more than walking through a door. She knew he had already let go.
“We haven’t finished the book yet.” She said sadly.
“I know.” He smiled at her and patted her hand.
“Jordan,” He said becoming serious, “there is something I must tell you.”
“Dad, you should save your…” He cut her off.
“No. This is important. You must listen. You feel sometimes that you don’t belong in this world.”
Her eyes grew wide. “How did you know that?” She whispered.
“Because a part of you doesn’t; the part that is D’ni."
“What do you mean?”
“Your mother was D’ni, which makes you half.”
“No.” She said resolutely. “It’s not possible. My mother was from Denmark.”
“Jordan! Listen to me. It’s the truth. Your mother was one of the few that escaped to surface when things went bad. Richard Watson helped get her an identity; he used Denmark because it was easiest to falsify their naturalization records.”
Jordan covered her eyes with her hands, rocking back and forth and shaking her head. “No. It’s not true. Why are you saying this?”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her face. “Jordan! Look at me.”
Reluctantly, she lifted her head to look at him; one tear silently rolling down her cheek.
“How old was your mother when she died?”
“Sixty-four.” She sniffed.
“Your mother was 280-years-old. Why do you think it was so hard to diagnose her illness? Not only was she older than is humanly possible, her genetic makeup was different and so is yours.”
It was like someone punched her in the stomach. Looking back on all the tests that were run on her mother and all of the false positives for different diseases; it didn’t make sense then. She didn’t display the same signs and symptoms as one would with leukemia. When they finally pinpointed a diagnosis, it was too late. She finally realized her father hadn’t lost his mind; he was telling the truth.
“How different your genetic makeup is, we will never know. You will not age the same as a human. The life expectancy of the D’ni is around 325 years. Because you are only half, I don’t know how long your life will be. But when people around you start showing signs of their age and you remain the same, there are going to be questions; questions you cannot answer. It is not safe for you here.”
Her emotions were churning as she tried to grasp what her father had just told her. She went from disbelief to confusion and now anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The anger coming through in her voice. “Were you ever planning on telling me?”
“I wanted to tell you but it never seemed the right time, and now, I have none.” His voice growing quieter.
“No. Don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine.”
Her father just smiled weakly and reached for her hand. “Jordan, you have to go.”
“Go? I’m not leaving you!”
“You have to use the book. Go to Middle Earth. It won’t be safe for you here. Promise me.”
“No! The book is dangerous. I could die, or…or get trapped. No.” Tears were falling freely down her face now. She knew he was fading.
“The linking panel is clear. I do not think that will be your fate.”
“I can’t just disappear! What I am supposed to tell everyone?”
“Tell them you’re leaving the country to stay with relatives. Richard will take care of everything. He knows what to do. He will see to the…cremation,” He swallowed hard, “and the house; I’ve given him power of attorney. Get yourself a dress…like a renaissance costume…and…a dagger.” His breathing was becoming labored. “Take only what you can carry on your back; nothing too modern. When you leave, Richard will clean out your apartment and destroy the book.”
“Dad, this is crazy!”
“You must go. Promise me you’ll do this.”
“Daddy, I can’t.”
“It’s your destiny.” He whispered. “There is nothing for you here now. Your heart knows what it wants, have the courage to follow it.” He closed his eyes and his hand went limp in her grasp.
“Daddy, no, don’t go” She said sobbing, trying to clasp his hand to her cheek with both of her hands, but it would not stay. There was no life left in his body. She laid her head on his chest, still holding his hand, and she wept; for herself and everything that she had lost, for her father, for her mother, for everything that is wrong in this world; all of the cruelty, hate, and injustice. The hurt and the anguish and the anger came pouring out until there was nothing left. She didn’t know how long she laid there; only dimly aware that the nurses had come in to shut off the heart monitor and disconnect the support lines. Finally, she stood up, smoothed her hand over her father’s hair and kissed him on the forehead. “Goodbye, Daddy. I love you.” The release of those emotions she kept locked inside for so long was like a cleansing; a rebirth. She knew what she had to do, she had promised, but she didn’t know if she could.
In a daze, she walked outside the hospital and wandered into the well-kept gardens they had on the grounds. Collapsing on a bench, exhausted, she stared blankly at the roses. There were no more tears left to fall. Fragments of her father’s last words echoed over and over in her head: ‘Go to Middle Earth…not safe here…your mother was D’ni…don’t know how long your life will be…go to Middle Earth…promise me…promise me.’ She sniffed, her nose stuffy from crying, and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She dialed Dr. Watson’s number and waited.
“Hello?”
“Is this Dr. Watson?” She asked shakily.
“Yes.”
“This is Jordan Blakely. My father, he’s gone.” She blurted out.
“Jordan, I am so sorry. He was a good friend of mine.”
She didn’t think she could possibly cry anymore, but a fresh batch of tears came forth, and Dr. Watson waited patiently for Jordan to collect herself.
“Did he tell you everything, then?”
“Yes.” She said through heaving breaths.
“Okay. This is what you are going to do. You need to go home, but don’t go back to work; take your bereavement leave. That will buy you some time. You’ll need to write your letter of resignation, then gather the things you want to take with you. I will take care of things in regards to your father. When that is done, I will contact you. Jordan?”
“Yes?”
“Everything is going to be okay.”
“Okay.” She sniffed. His reassuring tone helped to calm her down and she was able to focus more on what she had to do.
Back home, she called Dr. Hildreth to let her know she would be taking her bereavement leave. Of course, everyone was very understanding. She received a few sympathy cards in the mail from some of her co-workers. Finding a renaissance dress in a short amount of time proved harder than she thought as she didn’t need just one; she needed several if she wanted to have a change of clothes. She had searched the internet thoroughly, but kept coming up with made-to-order sites that could take weeks, if not months. Finally, she found a few dresses already made and close to her size that would be somewhat appropriate. ‘Appropriate for what?’ she asked herself. They were only guessing that the culture of the age was similar to medieval Europe. They could be way off. Better to appear less modern than too modern. It might raise questions. She also ordered a delicate-looking dagger with a jeweled hilt from a medieval weapons website. While she waited for her purchases to arrive, she drafted her letter of resignation and searched her apartment for personal items she would want to take with her. She began to look through photo albums for a picture of her mother and father. As she sat on the floor looking through photos of her family, her emotions hit her like a freight train. They were gone, and she was alone, and no matter where she went, her parents would not be there. She touched the faces of her mother and father lovingly with her finger while her tears fell on the page. “I miss you.” She whispered. She picked a picture of all three of them standing in front of the first house her parents bought. She was little then, maybe 3-years-old. Her father had his arm around her mother and her mother was holding her hand. Her parents looked happy. She tucked the picture away between the pages of an empty journal along with a pencil and set it aside to be packed. She gathered some essential items she figured she would need; a heavy wool blanket, an old army bed roll she used to use for camping, some matches, mittens, and warmer clothes, even though they were modern, just in case, and some first aid items like bandages and antibiotic ointment. The more modern items, she would make sure to keep hidden. She looked sadly around her apartment. She was giving up everything she had. She would have barely any possessions in this new world. She only hoped she could find a kind stranger who would be willing to help her find shelter.
A couple weeks had gone by and she was starting to wonder when she would hear from Dr. Watson. She was getting nervous. She had everything she needed. Her dresses and dagger had come in the mail and all the possessions she would be taking with her were packed in a rucksack. One afternoon, she received a small brown box in the mail with no return address. Upon opening it, she found a small multi-colored glass vial. It had a silver top with delicate vines carved in it. It also had a strip of silver on each side with an inscription in the D’ni language engraved on them. Attached to a loop in the top was a silver chain that one could either wear around their neck or hang it from something. Along with it, was a note from Dr. Watson:
It is finished. In this vial are some of your mother and father’s ashes.
It has a chain, so that you may wear it and keep your parents close
to your heart. Do this and you will never be alone. The inscription
reads “When all is taken from one, the only hope that remains
is what is given by another. Through this giving, both are redeemed.”
I wish you courage on your journey. Trust in your heart and you
will find your way. When you are ready to leave, call me and I will
take care of everything.
She held the vial up to the light by the chain. The colors caught by the light, scattered around the room. It was beautiful. She put her hand over her mouth and clutched the vial to her chest with the other, sobbing silently. The tears once more fell down her face. She brushed them away and went to go take a shower; the last shower she might get in a while. After her shower, she dried her hair and worked the top half into a braid down the back of her head. She chose the light sage green dress and secured the jeweled dagger around her waist with a long strip of leather. Finally, she fastened the vial around her neck. The other two dresses were folded carefully and put into the rucksack. She took a deep breath and looked around her apartment. She started to have doubts. Why not just stay here where she was comfortable? No one would know there was anything different about her for many years. That was far in the future. No. Her father was right. She would not be thought unusual in a world were immortal elves lived. But would she find friends and happiness in this new world? Would she even make it through the link? Shaking, she picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Watson’s number.
“I am ready.”
“Okay. Everything you are taking with you has to be on your person, or it will not go through.”
“I have everything in a rucksack that I will wear on my back.”
“That will work just fine. Good luck. May your new life be blessed.”
“Thank you…for everything.”
She set the phone on the table next to the linking book and took a deep breath. ‘You can do this.’ she told herself. She put the rucksack on her back and did a quick check to make sure she had everything. She opened the book to the linking window. It still showed the white city, Minas Tirith. She held her breath and touched her hand to the linking panel. Everything went black. A few seconds had passed but it seemed like an eternity. She saw the white tower appear before her eyes but it was hazy and it disappeared. ‘Something’s wrong.’ She thought. She started to panic. She saw trees - no, a forest, but they were shrouded in fog. Then they were gone. Everything went black again. Her head was pounding and she felt like she was going to be sick. The next thing she saw was what looked like ruins of a castle tower made of rock. The image was cloudy. But this time the image became clearer and clearer, until she felt solid ground beneath her. She found herself on her knees next to a large boulder that had fallen from the ruins. The ruins were nestled in a thick forest of tall trees. All was silent except for her rapid breathing and a slight breeze rustling the leaves. She sat, unable to move for some time, staring at the ruins and regaining her bearings. Feeling came back into her being again and she realized the sun was shining, warm on her head, and the temperature was rather pleasant. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. The air smelled of damp earth and trees after a spring rain. Finally when she felt confident she wouldn’t fall over, she stood up and took in her surroundings. Panic gripped her again. This was definitely not the White City.
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