"A Passage from Light to Darkness" | Fenwomple

Written by Elrond of Imladris

A dark shape sat quietly by the side of a highway as the dusk threw shadows like many-fingered skeletons across the ground. A fainting scratching came from the parchment that lay on the figure’s lap. A soft breeze swept through the trees, ruffling the parchment and bringing a refrain of a walking song from up the path. The figure looked up and its eyes flashed briefly. Around a bend in the road a halfling trotted into sight, humming cheerily.
The figure, now identifiable as a fenwomple, slowly lifted his head to stare at the approaching halfling. “Can you tell me something? Why does the sun appear to have spots? Are they like the spots on the moon? Or more like holes in cheese?
Surprised to see the fenwomple in front of him, he stumbled back a bit, but still looked up into the sky to stare directly at the sun, squinting. “I don’t know I suppose..... I can’t really see any spots. I suppose you can?”
“Well, by utilizing the refractive methods of Mortanesque paralytic light emblazonment, we have discovered a way to imprint very bright lights on certain substances. Thus we discovered that the sun has certain areas of darker color.” He paused and glanced up at the sun. “But yes, I can see them.”
Looking rather confused, the halfling attempted to extricate himself, but the fenwomple stopped him again. “May I tell you one more thing?” The fenwomple slowly stood, clutching his stave. “What do you know of this area?”
“Well, I do know that this is a very beautiful area I must say! But beyond that, I know that there is a small village down the road a bit. But unfortunately, I don’t know much more at the current moment.”
“Hm, I suppose it is rather pleasing to the eye. But what we see at first glance is rarely what is most important, is it not? Therefore the more accurate question is—what do we not see about this place? I, for one, find the roots of the earth to be of supreme interest. The roots of this place are especially intriguing to me. I feel a... sensation about this place. The ground,” he stepped closer to the halfling, staring at him intently. “Hums.The trembling of the ground talks to me of deep secrets held in the clutches of the earth. I have been plumbing the stones here to measure the vibrations, but have found little.”
A little unsure about pressing his ear down to the dirt to hear for humming, the halfling refused, “I am afraid I can’t help you very much. I’m not that knowledgeable about these types of matters. I do hope you find what you are looking for though!”
“I have found little, yes, but I have found one thing.” An owl hooted in the distance. “A hollow. Halflings are not noted for their bravery, but there have been a few notable cases...one halfling, I know, named Oblib, joined a group of elves in raiding a dwarven stronghold!”
“Truly? He must have been a mighty warrior! Well, thank you for the advice either way.” He looked at the sky and saw the sun low on the horizon. “Well, seeing as how I still have quite a walk to the nearest town and that it’s getting quite late, I must bid you farewell.” Again another bow and he started down the road.
The fenwomple watched the halfling recede down the road, slightly disgusted with the little man. How could he simply walk away like that? Didn’t he realize that he had been offered the chance of scientific discovery? Perhaps such people were simply of lower intelligence. He turned back to his parchment and made a final notation. That very afternoon he had stumbled upon what he knew must exist—a hollow. A cavern. Caverns were nothing new in Ashnuw, of course, but this one was different. He had been monitoring the area for days, measuring the vibrations and recording the results. The results were clear—there was a trembling under the ground here. Similar to a small earthquake, or (in the few recorded cases) a rock wurm’s movement. It lasted far too long and was much smaller than an earthquake, and it stayed in one spot, unlike a wurm. What, then, could it be? Frustrated by the darkness, the fenwomple retired beside the road.
The pale morning light saw the fenwomple pacing between trees pensively. Every so often he would drop to the ground and press his ear to the dirt. The soil here was mostly fertile loam and easily conducted the tremors. Startled by a cracking noise from beneath the ground he sprang up and froze, listening. Silence. Not even the rumblings. “Surely not.”
He dashed back to his campsite and snatched up the staff. Excitedly he cast about for the appropriate tree, finally settling on a large oak several yards from the road. Roots extended from the base, and there were no other trees within fifteen feet. He quickly began jabbing around the base with the staff.
It broke through. Only a little at first, but soon large chunks of soil were falling into a cavity beneath the tree. A black hole about three feet wide opened, and he gazed down intently. Stale air drifted up, laden with dust and smelling of fungus. Complete silence pervaded the tunnel save for a final, echoing thump. The fenwomple looked over his shoulder to the rustling forest almost wishfully, but turned back and dropped into the hole.
He drew a small torch from a pouch and lit it with a piece of flint. The fire cracked to life and threw a flickering light down the passage. The walls and floor were uneven and the ceiling lacked any support beams. The tunnel was several feet across yet showed no sign of instability. “Masterful. Molded perfectly to be self-supporting.” It was only about five feet tall, however, and the fenwomple had to crouch to move. The smell of freshly disturbed soil surrounded him, reminiscent of the newly-tilled fields of the human villages he had passed through. A slight but noticeable slope quickly dropped the tunnel several feet underground. When he had turned three corners and was several hundred feet away from the
entrance another hole opened in front of his feet. This one had no visible bottom. The absolute stillness of that narrow chasm sent a chill down the fenwomple’s spine—no other place he had traveled in Ashnuw felt like this. Despite the depth of this tunnel it felt like merely a finger, a tendril, of a much vaster organism. A pulse seemed to throb from the still darkness; a strange and mysterious paradox that called to his investigative sense.
A scraping sound shattered the silence just below the lip of the hole. His heart rose to his throat in a dread greater than anything else he had ever experienced, yet found himself paralyzed in place.
Two red eyes materialized above the edge of the abyss.