Alatar's story

An owl flew through the window of Albus Dumbledore's office, and alighted on the desk. The wearied wizard looked up at the bird through tired and tormented eyes. Sighing with sad memories of times now past, he took the letter from its claw. With a swoop of its delicate wings, the owl glided away.

The letter was written in a strange hand and language, and none but Albus Dumbledore or his brother Aberforth could understand it. Aberforth, indeed, did not know the languages of the present, but lived where this language was the only one spoken or written. It was mainly written, because of Aberforth's line of work. The letter was not from Aberforth, however. Translated, it read:

From Aiwendil to his friend Alatar, greetings.

I have felt something from the West. It pulls me, and I feel it calling. The reason we have become part of this world is over. I - to stay from the magic so that I may find this call and know its message. You - to guard the ones who keep the world alive and well. Pallando - to give the world of magic its life.

That must have happened, my friend, although we have not spoken since the last meeting of the White Council an age ago. A new age again begins, friend. The fourth age has passed away and the fifth is beginning.

I know that some terrible tragedy must have occurred for this, deaths and much else. You surely, in your unusual position, must have seen some of it, and been affected by it. But Alatar, noble man, it is time to move on. We are not of this world, and must follow where Olorin went before. Curunir, the greatest and least of our order, perished as you know and did not go West. The sea will not take us to the strange land the Gwaith-i-helka see.

At this point, the aged man, who had remembered much of the old tongue but not all, had to think of what the word 'helka' meant. Suddenly it came back to him. It meant 'icy' or 'ice-cold'. 'Gwaith-i-helka' must mean icy people. Perhaps it meant the Muggles, as they were without power. What could Aiwendil mean?

Nay, for Ulmo will guide us, last of all men, on a ship non-save our own kind knew about. Not even the Elves had known that we, the forgotten Istari, would return to them. I feel the call, and tell you, for we must go. I shall meet you on the far shore of Calendor, as the Sindarin Elves termed it.

I have also sent word to Pallando, far wanderer, whom you took as brother, and told him the same.

Farewell.

For a moment, Albus remained silent. He had forgotten the world that had once been, except when he looked at the last words he had ever written in Quenya. He and the other members of the White Council had not met since near the end of the third age. The new age had made no difference then to the men of the east in Middle-Earth, but now it did. For the men of the east, and the women, had become the race of wizards.

He and Pallando had come as friends, dressed all in blue, to these men. They had taken wives among them, pretending simply to be ordinary people, and yet they were not. For Alatar and Pallando had life everlasting, and though they appeared to age, inside they did not. After a time, they left their wives, and returned under different guises. It was they, known only as the Ithryn Luin or 'blue wizards' in the west of the realm of men, who in the end dictated what happened to men.

Although their children had lesser powers than the two Maiar, they still had it in high quantities. They took those without magic, called Gwaith-i-helka in Aiwendil's letter, and their children too had the power. That was how the race of wizards had been born.

About one thousand years ago, Alatar and Pallando had called themselves Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. They had taken wives in Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw respectively. In this way they had ensured the continuation and protection of the magical world.

Yet at about this time something unusual began to happen. In families of Muggles, the Gwaith-i-helka, those of magical talent began to appear. Alatar felt that this was because the ones born without magic had taken families and now the talent came back. Pallando, on the other hand, did not like it, and believed that Alatar had done something to cause this. The pair fell out and did not see each other for a century.

When they met up again, they made up their mistakes, having realised how foolish they were. Alatar, the wiser of the pair, and the one who had taken Pallando on his ship in the first place, was right. Pallando now made his decision, which was that he would find the last store of the knowledge of the elves of old, and learn all from it. He and his brother would learn more of the works in the west. This he would construct into book form, for the discovery of wizards and Muggles alike.

Alatar took on many different names during his time in the world. Many times, he left the society he belonged to and found a new one. The world changed in many different ways, transport and clothing alike. One day, he decided that he would go back to Hogwarts as an eleven year old, to see what it was like. He took the name Albus Dumbledore, and contacted Pallando to tell him this. As brothers they were now, and Pallando agreed, advising Alatar to call him Aberforth when referring to him. To this, Alatar agreed.

During his break away from human civilization, Pallando forgot all forms of human tongue but the one he read. For this reason, he sent the writings of his work to his brother in spirit, and in this way they were translated. Alatar sent them to a trustworthy Muggle who had the works published.

*~*~*

Now, Alatar stood up, and walked over to the cupboard by the door. He looked around, at the room with everything in it, and smiled sadly. He opened the cupboard, and took out a long staff, made of solid oak wood. He also removed a long, blue cloak. Wrapping this about his shoulders, he took his olds wand, hesitated, and snapped it in two.

Fawkes, sitting on his perch, took off and flew over, to land on his shoulder a few moments later. He raised a wearied hand and stroked the Phoenix gently.

"It is time, my old friend. I must just write a note, for my successor, and then we may be gone. The fourth age, long though it seemed, has come to an end. You know who I must choose, for she is the only one I could possibly want," said Alatar. He walked back for a final time to his desk, and took out a quill and some parchment.

From Albus Dumbledore, to his friend Minerva McGonagall, greetings.

It has become known to me that I must leave this school now, and never return. To you, I have told what others may never know, and so you must understand that my calling has now come. The Ithryn Luin must depart for Western shores, and for the Undying Lands. I have appointed you as my successor, to watch over Hogwarts in times as yet not come.

You have the skills that any Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts requires: a smile, calmness, understanding. You also show fairness to all. Watch over my children, and let them not come to harm. May the Valar watch over you and keep you from harm.

Farewell.

Alatar sealed the letter with the Hogwarts seal, the final time that he would ever use it. He walked out onto the balcony with Fawkes, and waited until the eagle arrived, magnificent and true. There, he rested on its back, as it carried him to Calendor, the green land, Ireland, called Laicandor in the Quenya tongue.

The eagle landed, and Alatar climbed off its back. There, he had but to wait for a few moments, and a second eagle arrived with Pallando, his brother in spirit.

"Farewell!" cried the eagle, who knew a little of the human tongue from his greater ancestors, "wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!"

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," replied the two wizards.

Many Muggles would swear that they saw two great birds fly from the place, and some even had photographs. It was, after all, tourist season in Laicandor.

"Do you still miss Ainë?" asked Pallando, using the Quenya name for Alatar's wife in the time of Hogwart's founding, Helga. Alatar shook his head. It was a long time since those far-off days.

"I miss Rowena," he replied. They had both long forgotten the word for the Rowen tree, even before they had met her. Alatar placed an arm on his friend's shoulder.

"How are the goats?" he asked.

"Fine," replied Pallando with a grin.

*~*~*

It grew darker, and as the pair waited, they watched the skies. Fawkes remained perched on Alatar's shoulder, as he lit some twigs to make a fire with his staff.

From out of the dark sky, came not an eagle, but a dragon. Although in long days past the dragons had been considered to be evil creatures, Aiwendil had tamed the last of them. Although still considered wild by many wizards, the descendants of the two Maiar; the Istari, the original wizards, knew that this was nothing compared to what they used to be like. Even Smaug the Golden had been relatively calm, compared with some.

The beast landed, and Aiwendil slipped from its back, clutching a Rowan staff in his hand.

"My beard!" said Pallando, grinning slightly; he had been the wizard Merlin in the courts of King Arthur. "What a creature!"

"Her name is Ainár, mighty fire," replied Aiwendil, whispering words to her. Then he bid her farewell, and she raised her wings and departed from the land. To where she went, none but she knows.

"Where is the boat that will take us over the sea?" asked Pallando, who was far more comfortable with Quenya than Alatar.

"It is hidden in the rock, by a password unknown to me. However, it should not be hard to discover, and I shall find it," said Aiwendil.

They looked about them, and clambered over the rocky cliffs of Laicandor. Alatar strode down to the shore, where he searched for possible writing. Holding his staff in his right hand, he raised his left hand so that it was perpendicular to the floor.

"Cenhrota!" commanded Pallando, who was attempting the same thing in another part of the area. This means 'see cave' in English. Nothing happened, and Albus thought he knew why.

"You're using the wrong words," he said. "We don't know that we're looking for a cave. The best word to use would be 'Cenannon', bec- ..."

Suddenly in front of him on the cliff face was a tracing in light, glowing out at them. Runes were carved around the edge, and Pallando translated them swiftly.

"Eruhíni, look inside. Speak the word and enter."

"What could it mean?" wondered Aiwendil aloud. Pallando and Alatar were silent, thinking. Then Alatar spoke aloud.

"Do you remember what Olórin said happened in Mor?" he asked his friend.

"Yes..." said Pallando slowly. "He said, the word was disguised in the meaning... do you think...?"

"I do," said Alatar. "Yet I cannot think of the word for 'word' in Quenya."

With a loud grating noise that echoed far about them, the wall of the cliff opened, to reveal a marvelous boat with a silken sail. It seemed to shimmer in the light, and on its prow was carved the word "Nenost" meaning 'water fortress'.

"What happened?" asked Pallando, confused.

"Quenya," said Aiwendil, in sudden enlightenment. "Quenya is the original speech of elves. That's it!"

The other two grinned at him, Alatar's blue eyes twinkling merrily as they had not done for days.

"Let's go then!" he cried suddenly, and dashed into the cave at a speed far better than he should be able to at his visible age. After a short pause, Pallando and Aiwendil rushed after him. Soon they were tugging the small vessel down the beach to the sea. They climbed on board, and Aiwendil stood in the bow, crying out to the lord of the waters.

"Ulmo! Lord of the waters! Take us to the Undying Lands with your grace. We are the Maiar, last of the Istari, coming home."

Suddenly a rush of water came up to the shore, surrounding the vessel. It fell back again towards the Atlantic Ocean, dragging the Nenost with it. Once in the water, the waves pushed the boat in the correct direction, yet the wind did nothing.

"We have not asked Manwë for his guidance!" exclaimed Alatar. He ran to the back of the boat and faced the waves.

"Oh lord of the skies! Send your wind to us, on the last ship to the Undying Lands, for us the last of the Maiar, so that we may reach the place where you are!"

With a sudden gust of wind, which completely knocked the blue-robed wizard off his feet, the sail filled, and soon the boat was no longer in sight of Laicandor and the old places. The ship went on paths that no man could ever see, and found its way, last of the ships; later than the ships so often thought to be the last by a whole age of men.

The fourth age was over, and the fifth began. The magical world and the Muggle world lived in peace, although many deaths had been caused during this push for peace. Harry Potter was one, killed by accident after Voldemort had been long dead. It had been rather silly, as he had been blown up when experimenting with a new spell! It was an anticlimax really, but all the wizards and Muggles - who knew about Harry due to the work of J. K. Rowling - mourned his death.

Albus Dumbledore passed into legend, and out of time. The younger ones, such as Kevin Whitby, would sit with all their grandchildren about them, and tell of the great wizard who saved the world, when they were old and grey too.

I see trees of green........ red roses too
I see 'em bloom..... for me and for you
And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.
(What a Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong)