Chapter 1 - Adventures Call

The lights flickered in the old musty storefront. The rain had let up a little since the deluge that had lasted all week. It was a lovely Saturday. Eryn looked out the window with her head resting on her folded arms at the front desk of her Grandfather's antique store. The sound of her Grandfather shuffling new inventory and the sigh of exhaustion that came every now and then concerned Eryn. He was so tired lately. So was she.

"These darn light bulbs," he sighed under his breath.

"I'm sure it's just the storm." as if to validate her accusation, a roll of thunder answered with a low growl.

"You might be right. But it's just the shop. She's old and has a lot of character and bound to go blind sooner or later." he chuckled.

"Are you sure you're not self-deprecating, Papa?" Eryn asked as she raised herself up from the desk and strode to her Grandfather. He often personified his own woes in the shop. It wasn't uncommon for him to complain about something in the shop that he quickly directed toward himself.

"No, dear, I would never do that." he smiled wryly. "Seems all people donate is books. People these days have tablets and smartphones, no room for books anymore." He frowned.

"Well, you can fit hundreds of books onto one device, instead of one bookshelf. Though I do prefer a firm book in my hand more." Eryn shrugged.

"Me too, dear. It's just not a sentimental age anymore." He rose with an arm full of books, placing them on one of the empty bookshelves for sale in the antique shop.

Eryn searched the box for anything she recognized, and at the bottom, she noticed one of her personal favorites. "Tolkein!" she reached for the book like an old friend, though it had been a long time since she read them. Eryn had very fond memories of her Grandfather reading to her when she was little. "The Hobbit." she breathed, "This one's my favorite. It's so incredible that Tolkein himself wrote every one of those languages. Everything feels so real when you read it, it's hard to believe that was his imagination."

"You know, I don't believe he thought of it all on his own, no. Not at all." Eryn's Grandfather said so matter-of-factly, she looked at him like he had lost his last marble. Her eyebrows were so tightly knit together; they could almost be one.

"What?" she laughed, "That's crazy. Of course, Tolkien imagined it. It's like Hogwarts, the Matrix, Game of Thrones, Die Hard! They're all great stories; someone had the brain to imagine all of that." she sighed enviously, "There's no way that anything Tolkein wrote was non-fiction."

"You never know dear." her Grandfather sighed, he suddenly seemed very melancholy.

"Papa, are you ok? Did you take your medicine today?" She didn't mean to fuss over him, but so much of her life revolved around him.

"I'm fine, dear." He smiled widely at her. "Now do me a favor and go get your old man the last box of books from the back door.

Eryn agreed and walked quickly to the back of the old antiques and oddities shop. Her Grandfather Eugene was so proud of it, he had this shop for as long as she could remember. It paid the bills, and they had enough, but she couldn't shake this feeling lately like she wanted more. Eryn wanted to go somewhere new, be someone new. She had no friends, family whom she never spoke to. Eryn only had her Grandfather, and not much to leave behind materially. She wanted to pack a bag and drive until she couldn't anymore, or use her savings to buy a ticket to anywhere in the world. The wandering spirit in her was calling and much more potent than usual.

Eryn spotted the box in question sitting by the back door, and she reached for it, but once she did, she felt it. A pull, it was like a light breeze, and on it, whispering so softly was her name. She couldn't see it, or audibly hear it, but she knew it was there. She raised herself slowly, looked to her left and there it was. Tucked away in a corner, was a door. It didn't look like much, just a narrow dark green door with a faded gold trim and knob. It pulled like a magnet. Eryn walked slowly to it, completely entranced by whatever was drawing her there. As she got closer, she realized, this door wasn't in the wall at all, it was still on a frame and leaned up against the shop wall.

Time stilled as Eryn looked it up and down. She slowly reached her surprisingly steady hand and touched the knob with her fingertips; it was cold and dusty. She took a breath and grasped the handle, still mesmerized.

"Eryn!" She heard, immediately snapping her out of whatever trance she was in. She blinked hard and turned, the magnet was gone. "Did you get lost back there?" Her Grandfather called. Eryn quickly grabbed the box and walked back to the front of the store.

"No, I'm fine, sorry, I just saw a door back there I'd never seen before," she answered honestly, setting the box down in front of him.

"Oh? Which one?" he inquired.

"The green one, it's stunning." She played it down a bit, it was absolutely gripping.

"The green one, eh? I've had that for a long time." He smiled at some fond memories he seemed to have recalled. "Well dear, I think it's about time to get going, don't you?" he looked at her knowingly, almost like he heard her voice on the wind as well.

"Uh, yeah, I need to get supper going." She quickly gathered her things from the front desk.

The walk back home was only a five-minute walk from the shop, which was convenient. They walked to work every morning, went home for lunch, and had a pleasant evening stroll when the day was done. Though the rain this past week had made the walks a little less enjoyable. Eryn liked watching the storm but didn't enjoy being in it for too long.

Later that night, Eryn made supper, as usual, cleaned up and prepared their lunches for the following day. She made herself a nice cup of tea and drew a warm bath in an attempt to relax, but she just couldn't. Eryn dunked her head a few times under the water to try and clear her head, but nothing helped. After her bath, she decided to read a book, but she couldn't focus on a single word. Finally, she resolved to just go to bed. The night was now ruined, for no apparent reason.

Once she woke up the next morning, she felt a bit better. She quickly dressed, put on her makeup and combed her dark copper hair, her hair was by no means naturally red, she was, in fact, a brunet; but who told the truth these days? Eryn gathered her bag for the day and headed out

Her Grandfather had an appointment this morning, so she would be opening the antique store on her own today. Eryn walked to the shop quickly as she always did, but something felt different about this morning. She began to open the shop as usual, but before she knew it her feet were already moving to the back of the store. The magnetic spell was more potent than yesterday. Eryn wasn't sure if it was pure curiosity or if there actually was a magnet behind that door. She had to know. Her Grandfather always told her she was antsier than a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs when she had her mind fixed on something and she tried to ignore it. But this, there was no ignoring.

Before she knew it, she was standing before the mysterious door, her hand outstretched, and she grasped it firmly. What was she doing? It was just a door, what was the big deal?

So she turned the handle and slowly cracked the door, she felt a cool breeze creep through the cracks, and she peeked behind it.

What she saw made no sense. There was nothing that could explain it, no

words or thoughts could rationalize it. Behind the door was a room, a big room, it looked like a library. Cold stones built the room, books, knick-knacks filled the shelves, and pale moonlight streaked through the open windows. Eryn stepped through cautiously, turning her head from side to side, looking for anything that resembled something she recognized.

The room was so quiet it felt unreal. Like Eryn was still asleep. After a few moments of staring, she realized that there was something familiar about it, she immediately felt the frustrating sensation of a forgotten word or thought. It was on the tip of her tongue when Eryn heard the slow latch of the door; it had closed behind her. Eryn quickly grasped the handle again, she shouldn't be here, wherever "here" was. Much to her surprise and horror, when she swung the door open a second time, only stone greeted her. It was gone. The shop was gone.

"That's impossible," she breathed, trying her best not to panic. She would just figure out where she was and head back to her home, or maybe she would wake up and she could start this whole thing over again. "This is impossible," she muttered again.

She closed the door and opened it again four or five times, trying to recreate whatever it was that happened. She ran her fingers around the frame of the door, beat it with her fist, and then came full circle again to open it and close it. She had lost track by this point as to how many times she tried.

After her unknown attempt, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Eryn spun around to see what seemed to be a child, he was standing in an archway looking at her peculiarly.

"I didn't know there were any other travelers here." the child spoke, but the voice was all

wrong, it was a man's voice.

He took a few steps closer to her, and she then saw that he had a youthful face, but was an older man. He had curly blonde hair atop his head, green slacks, and suspenders. He dressed kind of like her Grandfather.

"I'm sorry, I seem to be lost." Eryn choked out slowly. Her stare was unmoving. "Where

am I?" her voice broke, and she internally kicked herself, the last impression she wanted to give was that she was afraid.

"Why, you're in Rivendell." He looked at her, confused, his eyes were wide, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. "What is your name?" the man asked, he was only a few feet away now.

"Rivendell?" The word slowly fell from her lips, it didn't seem real. This couldn't be real.

What on earth was happening?

Eryn stared at the small man who stood before her, and her eyes grew with understanding. Her head swam with confusion and fear, it boiled up from the pit of her stomach all the way to her brain. She swiveled her head like a bobble, took one last look at the man, and fainted.