Tianwen·Magweth Pengolodh

Last wish, and I had to choose from more than 1 books what to take with me.

Yes, and I hope you never have to make that choice, too.After a moment of dizziness, I carried out that last wish in a rigorous manner.I dug out the largest clerk's knapsack I could find, made to lug the king's records into the case.I stuffed everything I knew in Rumir's own handwriting.Books are heavy.One shelf, one shelf, that's all I could move of all my possessions, and I feel like that burden might kill me.I considered setting fire to what was left, but then I smelled smoke.It seems that I probably don't need to do it.

Just as I was picking things up, I heard the door of the library building collapsed again.Relying on my previous successes, I escaped by the back door, forcing myself to shout as I ran, before lighting the fire one last time at Rumir's request.Surprisingly, I called out three crying female librarians, which added to the burden of my journey-I was full of sadness and fear at the time, and that's what I thought.I think their company saved my life in the end.It was one of them who fulfilled Rumir's last wish, and threw out the lantern she had brought into the tannery of the library, and lit a fire behind us.With them by my side, I didn't delay for revenge, nor did I go looking for others, but focused on protecting these "burdens" of mine, in order to successfully rush to the tunnel of Idril.

When we reached the tunnels of Idril, what we saw was truly delightful.Lord Glorfindel was still alive.He was full of rage, and the fall of Gondolin did not seem to dampen him in the slightest.His tone was stern, and he ordered that since we came, we must go in and evacuate.There is no turning back.I got over my aversion to tunnels that day.The long, dark passage was rough at first, but then it seemed safe and clean.

Once out of the tunnel, it took us as long to escape from Gondolin as there were battles, and more battles along the way.Compared with the multitude of the inhabitants of Gondolin, our company of less than 800 people is nothing, but the mountain road we had to travel along the steep pass of Cresse Green, only wide enough for one person to advance.It was a dreadful road for the wounded and burdened, and looking back at Gondolin, still smoldering in a ravaged valley, brought nothing but tears.Although I was limping, I was still walking in the ranks of soldiers, with only forty people on foot behind me.Then we were attacked for the last time, and Glorfindel fought his last battle.The mountain road was tortuous, and I could see it all from where I was, but I couldn't do anything, only the memories afterward.If I were to tell of the fall of Gondolin, it would be central, because their battle epitomized all struggles—evil with overwhelming power, subverting good, good, and precious, but the latter also resisted. With moderate success.

Still, it's not the end for me.We finally descended to the other side of Crescent Green.Tuor knew me, and he bade me go and count the survivors, which I did impatiently, trying to find my kin among the crowd.

But they are not there.

My mother and father, my sister and her consort's children, and her children's children, none escaped the fall of Gondolin.None of us in our small group saw them in the street when they fled.There was a group of people who came out of the tunnels of Idril and decided not to take the Cresse Green, but to try the main door, but they were not among the group.A thousand kinds of bad luck could have befallen them, slain by orcs or trolls, burned by dragons, caught in fires, struck by falling rocks, quick death or disgrace.I never knew.

At that time, I was in a state of grief.I remember little of our journey south to the mouth of Sirion.We took refuge in Sirion for a time, and upon our arrival my few surviving friends gently awakened me from my sorrow.We were all obliged to work the rest of that summer, and all the autumn, lest winter should take us from us, and complete the work of Morgoth.We've done a good job, but my heart breaks every so often when I think back to my teenage years at Nevrast.It was then that I composed that long poem, "The Fall of Gondolin."I wrote lines of verse almost in a trance, and I seemed to reproduce those great deeds and heroic battles before my eyes.That fall, we hosted a banquet in memory of loved ones who had passed away.At that time, I sang that song for the first time.

However, I can't express what I don't know in song.After all these years, I still can't tell what haunts me more: seeing the library where I spent my life burned and razed, with my teacher among its ruins; My family's empty house and their whereabouts are still unknown.

****

Pengolod finished his story calmly.He came back to his senses and said, "It took longer than I expected. Once I'm immersed in those memories, it's hard to get rid of..."

Alfwine was so fascinated that he couldn't help himself: "It's the first time in my life I've heard such a terrible story. I'm very sad." He stretched out a hand and patted Pengolod's shoulder sincerely , and shook slightly.

"Thank you," Pengolod whispered.He touched Alfwine's hand and closed the thin book.Alfwine sat back, and Pengolod said: "People always want to know how the story ends. So you see, since I don't know the fate of my family, their stories are not very good. As for Rumir—I did try to write a version that included him, but I couldn't write that passage because of guilt. It's the audience who should cry, not the poet." Pengolod held out a finger, stroking The cracked milky spine of the book.

"They should keep this book more carefully." Alfwine said angrily, "It's a gift from the Elf King. It tells the story of the fall of a great city. How could it be damaged like this?"

Pengolod said softly, "I'm glad it's old. If nobody reads it, it'll still be as beautiful as that book over there - Salt Production at Harrosta, 1506-1647." ". But I admit, you can't go wrong with a little glue."

Alfwinai stood up: "Give it to me, I'm going to tell the responsible librarian over there. I'm going to tell him that the scholar who wrote this book is here, and I'd like to see what he will do then." expression." Pengolod handed over the thin book.Alfwine hardly limped in exasperation as he walked along the large table to the librarian's desk.

A book is nothing compared to the great loss of Gondolin.It can be repaired.That book, and himself, Pengolod thought, was all that was left.

Alfwine was talking to the librarian, who actually took off his purple hat, waved his arms ridiculously, and promised that the book would be beautifully restored soon.

Seeing this scene of friendship and sympathy, Pengolod smiled sadly.Telling these stories seemed good at first, but the more he looked back, the more he felt that the spine of his own book was riddled with cracks.He looked around the library, looking out through the high windows.Below is a prosperous town, and beyond is a sparkling harbor where ships come and go.His friend was in a corner, standing by the librarian's desk, and the librarian had stood up, half bowed.

The two of them were about to walk towards him.He collected himself, and assumed the manners of a scholar of the Eldar again, to see if all these good things before him, friendship and honor and vigor, could offer some solace.

fat man's story

Suddenly one night, Pengolod couldn't sleep well.Even after the sun had set it was still sweltering and the linen sheets felt as hot as wool.When he got up, the sky was dim, and the sky over Romenna Fjord had just turned white.He was tying the straps of his robe as he skidded down the stairs, and Alfwine glanced at his elf lodger and said, "Surely you intend to dress cooler? The heat has been on since last night. My lame feeling get."

Pengolod was shocked: "This is just the inner robe of my daily attire. You Romanians all say that summer is hot, and I thought that half of the season has passed." moon.

Ah Tang's face was already covered with sweat: "No, sir, this year's spring will be long." He added a plea, "Master, can you make some heat-relieving soup today?"

"Okay, we will definitely need it. You go to pick the sour plums in front of the door next door, remember to say hello to them first." Ah Tang hurried to fetch water from the well before the heat was tormenting. "The air is dull, the doctor said, and the sun never goes down, so we all have to drink hot soup to quench our thirst. We can't drink wine until the sun goes down, until the weather is over. Elves don't get sick, so I guess you don't like hot soup." needs."

Pengolod replied, "You know, maybe I should try it. I've been thinking that Romenna is warmer than any city I've ever been in."

At first, high summer brought prosperity to Romenna. "The whole town has little sleeves," or no sleeves at all, children play and scream, merchants change their goods, and more boats come to the harbor than ever before.At night, the tavern garden was crowded with people discussing the efficacy of the various heat-relieving soups, herbal teas, or flavored waters they drank during the day.However, as the steaming weather continues