(( AUTHORS NOTE: This story is some bizarre combination of humor, drama, action-adventure, and quite a few other things. It's in some degree a 'serious' story (or will be eventually) but some things are gone about in a humorous manner. So enjoy the story. Or hate it. Whatever you like, just PLEASE REVIEW! Review and the Valar will shower you with love. ))

The tale of the fellowship had faded. The detailed journey of peril had been slowly forgotten in the senile minds of the elder. Its story may have been the best campfire story in all of Middle-Earth, but it now lacked potency.

Perhaps the legend had gone with the elves, departing over the seas. It was a legend that thrived on the magic that had spawned it, and also died with it. Countless years faded, and soon Middle-Earth lay forgotten. A beautiful land, now ridden of all life.

The elves and high powers had busied themselves with other things. Eventually Eru even tired of it all. So in some stroke of genius (or madness, who can tell?) he once again assembled the Ainur as a great choir.

And again, their voices rose, nearly as beautifully as before. But now a new evil had appeared, and his name was Droloin. As before, the wise and powerful Eru had failed to see his assistant was truly evil. Unfortunately, Droloin had gotten even more power that Morgoth had. And he used it to sway the voices.

Eru, in all his greatness and wisdom, did not notice. Perhaps he was tired of his job, perhaps he did not care, or perhaps Droloin was the more powerful. Whatever it was, the voices swelled, creating now a dark sounding melody. It was then Eru noticed something fishy was going on.

He sang sweetly, trying to win over the choir. A few seem content to stay with the dark tune, but most immediately switched back over. Droloin in his INFINITE power, had the chorus on his side just seconds later. So of course Eru tried getting them back, but they seemed happy with Droloin.

So Eru sang louder, wilder, and more beautifully than before. In the end, he won out, the song ending with the chorus on a sweet note.

"Now, see your second creation!" Eru called, and before them they took their first look at it. The land was that of Last-Earth, beautiful, yet tainted by Droloin's unsuccessful attempt at takeover. Our story takes place here, but after many years had passed.

There were a colony of miques, living and thriving in the beautiful land called Lokae. Miques were some variation of elves, hobbits, men, dwarves, and forloins. Standing at about five feet when they are fully grown, they are the most unsystematic looking of all races. With any variation of hair, eyes, skin, and personality; you had to be most observive if you wanted to know which race they came from.

You had elven miques, dwarvish miques, hobbitish miques, all the races had their own type of mique! Except for the miques themselves, of course. You could count on them to usually take on traits of their initial race, but not always. Every so often you had a nature loving dwarf mique, or a hobbit mique who was very brave. It was not that rare of a thing, but for the most part, they were normal.

Of course they also had a few physical appearances from their origin as well. Hobbit miques did not have beards, but dwarvish ones often did.

I'm sure you are wondering what a forloin is, however. They are also a new race. Forloins are tiny creatures, standing at barely two feet when fully grown. However, within them is packed all the magic of Last-Earth.

Mostly they are timid things, but a few were valiant and brave. All of them were beautiful, though, and it seemed the suns light followed and favored them. Always bathed in light, seeming to sparkle and shine, any who looked on them would be instantly enamored.

But our story begins with a particular mique, who went by the name of Namil. Namil was a mique, a human mique, his family being that of the Swilams. The Swilams were a particularly nasty family, who would do anything for wealth. His mother and father were poor, and as cruel as any in the Swilam family.

His mother, Selela, ignored him in favor of trying to get rich. His father, Aleles, beat the boy for being too kind. Namil was very kind, and a stranger to his family. Both in looks and personality.

Namil had deep, muddy eyes, and dark ebony hair. His skin was dark and tanned, clad always in blues and greens. But the remainder of his kin were very different. They had fair, golden locks, pale skin, and eyes of blue and gold. Taking kindly to the outdoors, Namil could explore Lokae for hours.

It was on this day that Namil was indeed exploring Lokea, taking care to stay well away from those queer entish mique's. A stocky dwarf came riding up beside him on a snowy pony, looked him over, and then spurred his animal away.

"Most queer." Namil thought to himself, watching the retreating flanks of the pony. He was so absorbed by the oddity of the situation, he did not notice three other dwarves riding slowly with him. The second he glanced at them, they briskly changed their gait and rode away.

"What a peculiar day!" Namil exclaimed aloud.

"And what exactly is so peculiar about it?" Asked a voice from beside him. Namil turned to face Andril, his best friend in all Lokea. Offering a lop-sided grin as encouragement, Andril waited for an explanation.

"Four dwarves on ponies just rode past. I just happen to find such things odd." The dark haired mique replied, walking forward. Andril followed his friend, silent.

Andril had light, sandy brown hair, neatly brushed to his ears. His eyes, a soft emerald, were expressive of his dramatics. The mique's skin was a pale tan, from the combination of his time indoors and his time with Namil outside.

"Are you coming over again tonight? We're expecting you." Andril said softly, breaking the silence. Namil did not talk, but simply nodded.

"Is it worse than usual?" Andril asked, his voice still quiet. Another nod. Namil took comfort just from his friend' presence, and from the scenery.

Lokea was a beautiful land of wildlife. There were emerald leaves, golden petals, and silver drops of dew lining each blade of brilliant green grass. Tall trees with dark bark and myriads of leaves all shaded in different hues. The lake in the center seemed like it was filled to the brim with sapphires. Shimmering and reflecting light, it was easily the most beautiful spot in all of Lokea.

It was later that week when the two friends met again as official adults. After you graduated from school, you had seen eighteen winters. This seemed enough time for you to have learned enough to lead a normal adult life, most reasoned. And it worked for the most part, children moving out after graduation day.

"There's nothing different about me at all, yet I feel so changed." Namil exclaimed, walking with Andril to the house they'd bought together by the lake.

"Well, you did move away from your parents. That's enough to change anyone." Andril replied, distracted by the wisps of clouds overhead.

"I'm serious! I just don't feel right now I've left home!" Namil replied a bit coldly, trying to catch his friend's attention.

"I would think you'd feel better!" Came a loud, pleasant voice from behind them. They turned, and were met by the grinning face of Pearl.

Pearl was a hobbit mique, and probably the easiest to anger of any hobbitish creature. She stood only three inches below the two human mique's, and they could never decide if she was extra tall or they were extra short. Bright honey eyes, wide and curious, with messy tangles of maple hair falling into her face.

"After all, you hate each other. Shouldn't you feel BETTER about getting away from them?" She asked, stepping in-between them with a smug smirk on her face. She was two years younger than them, and still in school. But she felt she had to share her infinite knowledge with the lesser souls.

"I know I SHOULD feel better, Pearl, I just don't." Namil replied with a sigh. His attempt to gain pity had gone horribly wrong. Pearl flashed him a grin and darted up the path to the house. It was a one story house, made of bricks and covered in vines of ivy. Flowers, weeds, sprigs, and shrubs littered the ground on the pathway up to the door.

She twisted the brass doorknob and tentatively pushed inward. "Namil, your door is open." Pearl called, twisting around to look at them. From behind her the door swung wide open, and an arm yanked her in. The door slammed shut, and was followed by a muffled yelp.

Andril and Namil, wide wide eyes, flew up the stairs and flung the door open. Expecting to see Pearl in some sort of danger, they were surprised to see an angry dwarf glowering at her. His face was unusually red, and looked like an elbow may have accidentally slammed into it.

"Good to see you Master Namil." Another dwarf said from the doorway leading into the den. Past him were two other dwarves, and Namil had a faint feeling he knew who they were. Or at least how they got around.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Namil asked, more confused than ever before.

"I am Lin, son of Volor. My apologies to your friend here, we were expecting you and Master Andril."

"You were expecting us?"

"Yes, and I imagine you'd like to know why."

"Actually I'd prefer you to just leave me and my friends in peace."

"That may be a problem. But, your friend..." Lin trailed off, gesturing at Pearl.

"I'm Pearl Silspring." She offered, and Lin continued.

"Yes, your friend Pearl here is free to leave now." And with that, he stopped, and gave her an expectant look. She arched her eyebrows, and a look of defiance swept over her eyes.

"Actually, I'd prefer to stay." Pearl replied, the pleasant tone in her voice now iced over.

The two dwarves in the den grumbled something unhappily, and Pearl and Lin engaged in a staring contest. Moments later, Lin broke off his fixed gaze.

"Fine, stay here if you'd like. It's no bother to me; it's your own fault." He muttered, and gestured for them to sit down. The dwarf Pearl had hit gave them a suspicious glance before retreating to the den so they had free reign of the bench in the front hall.