What the Future Holds...
Settling into the warm confines of the seat nestled into the Portal Generator, I heaved a breath of excitement. My hands curled around the armrests, fingers finding their embedded grooves so I could begin transport. For a brief moment my eyes closed and with an impish streak of the Glaun side of my temperament I chose a random destination. Now I would not know where I would be sent to. My eyelids flicked open to heck the digital readout, flashing in cerulean, so I could assure myself of the other details. Destination Time: circa the First Age. Political Climate of Destination Territory: neutral/safe. Time of Day: Morning. That was it. Those were the culmination of my parameters. I wanted to be surprised.
I exhaled once more, my final glance resting upon the Red Book that held its place on my lab table next to my technical journals. I smiled then. It was time to go back.
My index fingers issued slightly more pressure into their assigned grooves to generate startup. In a blinding flash from the Portal Beam my world heaved around me and I clenched my eyes shut tight. Pressure accumulated deep within my ear canal, the urge to hold my nose and relieve the sensation was overwhelming. Then all of a sudden the piercing gleam of sunlight warmed my back and fragrant air assailed me. My rump found a solid seat on a patch of grass. I had arrived. I opened my eyes.
My mind immediately started to categorize my surroundings to try and locate where I had been so unceremoniously dumped. A whiff of salty air caressed my nostrils, the sea. And there it was, as I looked over my shoulder. A stretch of pristine and colorless sand being lapped by tender waves off in the distance. As I rose the presence of a massiveness, an agelessness, pressed onto my consciousness. My glance was drawn to a luminous mountaintop held by a wide and circuitous base of lesser hills. I started towards it instantly, it commanded my attention.
Having a goal, a place to put my body in motion for, I began to assimilate my present surroundings. Lush verdant grass tickled my ankles, punctuated by the soft yellows and ambers of clusters of some wildflower now unknown to us. Shiny green shrubs, low to the ground, speckled the landscape and as I slowly approached the looming mass of the mountain trees became ever more prevalent. I could see now that they thickened to a decent stand near the base of the hills. I changed direction slightly to head that way, with the ever-present glistening shore to my left.
Upon reaching the edge of the glade of trees, my hands now full of the yellow blossoms and on a whimsy, decorating my hair, I narrowed my glance to try and espy anything of import beyond. As my gaze searched through the lissome and graceful branches I caught a glimpse of stone. A building! I quickened my pace.
As soon as I laid my eyes upon it I knew suddenly where I was. A smile crept upon my features that must have lingered there for the rest of the afternoon. Vinyamar. Home of Turgon and the first settlement of Noldor from The West. The city was breathtaking, as all Elven Construction was found to be. Except this was present not some ruin with crags and crawling plants everywhere. This was only just recently deserted and you could almost still hear the Noldor songs wafting on the breeze. I could not believe my eyes as I stared at the rising ramparts and ivory-colored stone. My breath was held in rapture as I took a step towards my historical discovery.
Jennifer Bailey, nick: Silvermoon