Tianwen·Magweth Pengolodh

It's a little too early.How much rent will you charge for that sailor's room?That is, if I'm a good character. "

Alfwine had been standing with one hand propped on the table.Hearing this, he was taken aback, shook, and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands.The kid did speak, his voice hoarse with excitement: "We used to charge Kaputar Nuzra five dollars a week."

"Tang, shut up." Alfwine said in a long-accustomed tone.Pengolod guessed it was the apprentice's nickname, and couldn't help snickering.When the shopkeeper replied, he should be more cautious in his words: "If you are willing to write down the legends and lore of the elves for me, and guide me in some professional research methods of Rambeingmo, I am willing to waive the rent. Books of elf lore are very expensive. .If you can check my map of Central Continent, that's fine too." Alfwine tugged at one side of his mustache, "However, if you not only want to stay but also want to eat, then I have to charge a fee I'm content with legends and words, but the bread sellers only take cash. How long do you think you'll stay?"

"I cannot say. Perhaps until the next elf ship to Eressia passes, perhaps longer," said Pengolod.

Alfwine replied: "Of course, I haven't heard of any of your beautiful race staying too long. But you'd better take a look at the room first. Tom, you take care of the store. If any more elves come in, Don't get dizzy." Pengolod went up a narrow staircase, and looked into a slightly cramped room facing the main street.It would probably be shabby if it weren't impeccably clean: furniture including hooks, a narrow table with washbasin and jug, and a settee - or bed, covered in faded red. blanket.Pengolod thought of those nights sleeping on hard roots or among tangled bracken, and he expressed great satisfaction.He paid a small sum as an advance for the meal, and they shook hands again.Pengolod then went back to the elven ship to collect his luggage.

Signboard: an open book

The matter of picking up the luggage is actually more troublesome than making a friend like Alfwine.The captain of the elf ship couldn't wait to set off on the sunset tide, and had to make a statement before unloading Pengolod's suitcase: "If you want to stay, you'd better stay on the west side of this island." Port Anduennier. The scenery is more beautiful there, and the residents are more accustomed to seeing our people staying."

"I am not staying for this place, but for the people here." Pengolod replied.

The captain raised a silver-gray eyebrow. "Are you sure? When you get tired of this place, you'll have a better chance of getting another boat on the west coast."

"You speak as if you're sure I'm going to get tired of it tomorrow. I know my own business." Pengolod replied sharply.It was possible, he realized later, that the Elven Captain himself had stayed at Romenna for a while; but only later.At that time, he was busy arranging disembarkation and had no time to think about it.One of Linton's librarians had been on board once, and Pengolod had entrusted most of the boxes to her care.He disembarked with a suitcase and a bundle of books, and waved his free hand goodbye, though he didn't look back for long.An officer who remained nearby hired a cart for him to haul the suitcase.He strode along behind the car, passing among the empty tents in the market place, his long legs stepping over stone slabs, eager and happy—he had found another job Do it, and put off that long parting for a while.

Alfwine's shops closed when the sun was setting behind the mountains that bordered the Romenna valley.Pengolod took a good look at the buildings.All the shops squeezed into the same block have the upper two floors for accommodation and share a large yard.The yard was in good shape, built around a well and two oak trees, but not very well maintained, with weeds protruding from the cracks in the flagstones.It appears that each shop has a small piece of land behind it that is owned by the family, facing the large central open space, and a charcoal pit with a fire next to the well.Ah Tang was sent to the fire with a barbecue basket and a large fish.

Alfwine and Pengolod sat on a bench behind the shop, watching the child.Although he has a round face, his slender limbs seem to be stretching every minute.Alfwine called him "half a boy," a word that adequately summed up the startled awkwardness that characterized his transition from boy to man. "I'm crippled, so I make him do a lot of work, and I know it myself." Alfwine said resignedly, "His family tried to send him to a regular academy in Armenelos. He's smart enough, but He couldn't even sit still for 1 minutes. He was fired, and he couldn't hold his head up. I offered to give him a chance. His restlessness means he can do my bidding."

Pengolod summoned up the courage to glance at Alfwine's deformed foot. "It must have been a terrible accident, right? Or luck in battle—you escaped with your life."

"No, it's actually bad luck. I was born like this. As I said, there is a special word in the Adunak language called 'pronated feet'." Alfwiner said, "You remember I said that I My father was a small trader in a boat, wasn't he? I tried to be a sailor when I was younger, and this foot didn't stop me from climbing the mast. But the older I got, the more it tormented me. The ship's accountant was right I was impressed, and when the captain's draftsman was looking for an apprentice, he recommended me."

When Ah Tang wobbled back with a steaming basket of grilled fish, Alfwine asked, "How did you become an apprentice? Can you tell us about it during the meal?"

Pengolod agreed.Here is his story.

****

I remember well when my childhood ended, but I hadn't grown up yet.That was more than an epoch ago, 2000 Two hundred years have passed and the world has gone through other changes.In those days there was a land called Nevrast, which was ruled by Turgon who was later High King of the Elves.Now Nevrast is sunk in the sea, but in those days it was a land of pine forests and fern thickets, dotted with gentle beaches.

It is one of Turgon's decrees that all young people of the land must learn to read and write.This is important, because the subjects under Turgon do not come from just one race.Many of them were of Aman, of the Noldor, but many more were of the Sindar, the Gray Elves of Middle-earth.Turgon was a newcomer in the Sindar's homeworld, but he won their loyalty by governing more leniently than their King Thingol.It is through this connection that the two elf races are fused together.My mother was Noldor, and my father was Sindar.But the people of Sindar were illiterate.When they wrote spells or names, they used runes prescribed by a writing system called Chirs, and that was all.Turgon, therefore, gave this decree for the sake of equality.

His order not only gave me a craft to excel in, but also brought me friends—Volongwe and Ellen Marchier.They were older kids, and although I was a few years younger, I was assigned to study with them.I thought they were daring and awesome, and they thought of me as the funny boy, the listener, and the little brother.For a while, the three of us were very happy together.

The day that changed everything was the day of summer.It was raining heavily outside, and the wind even blew off the green leaves on the trees, so we all stayed in the attic of the Voronwe house, which was used as a storage room.We were just like all kids, eating green apples and talking silly things while killing time.They tease me about my sister, Hingo Teal, who is getting married at harvest time."She's not a bad beauty," said Voronwe. "Why can't she wait a few years and marry one of us? Well, I'll have to wait and marry one of her daughters."

"Then you will have to wait for a long time, until your father has trained you enough," Ellen Maquier threw an apple core at Volongwe and teased him, "Anyway, when you go to pursue someone, a Blacksmiths who work for Turgon sound more respectable."

Voronwe immediately threw it back: "It's not me who always thinks about this, but my mother. She wants to send a blacksmith to Uncle Cirdan, so that his people don't have to buy steel from the Naugs. Besides , you don’t want to get out earlier than me, you have to train to be a royal guard, if they want you.”

Ellen Marcher turned to me: "Pengolod will say something nice about me, won't she? If you teach her, she'll think I'm as good as a prince!"

"That's not fair. You should speak well of us both," Voronwe said.

My mouth was full of apples, so I could only shake my head, holding back my laughter. "Can I really let you two idiots marry my niece?" I pretended to think, "Maybe, if you bribe me..."

This time I was Ellen Marchier's target.He said jokingly, "Listen, you sound like a Naug!"

Voronwe's thoughts diverged as usual: "If Rumir the Scholar is still in Turgon's service, we might as well ask him to write a charm that will make your sister have twins, so that we can each marry one."

"Then I have to choose first!" Ellen Marcher boasted.Before I had time to ask who this Rumir was, Voronwe's retort escalated the apple throwing exercise.In the blink of an eye, Ellen Marchier and Voronwe wrestled together on the floor of the top floor, clamoring to punch each other, not giving in to each other