The caverns hold a deadly secret...
|Cold be heart, and hand, and bone;
Cold be travelers far from home.
They do not see what lies ahead
When sun has failed and moon is dead.
-J. R. R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales
The tale I am about to tell you is not meant to entertain. Here, you will find no lesson, nor moral; things happen without such comforting purposes. In fact, I have come to question whether any sort of meaning can be attached to any event.
But then, I have come to question many things.
I will attempt to relay to you the truth, but I am not sure that I will be able. Some things are too horribly true to remember truthfully. But there is no doubt about the beginning. Yes, I know where this began: it began on a sunny autumn day in Boston.
I had been called there by an old friend who claimed to have "discovered something that would amaze" me. Intreagued by the sudden reemergance of someone I had neither seen nor heard from in such a long time, I obliged his request that I come immediatley.
He was waiting for me at the train station upon my arrival. Emerging from the train, I blinked away the sudden, bright sunshine. My friend was there to meet me, though I did not recognize him at first; it seemed that the passage of years had been less than kind. He looked a bit ragged and rather tired, but gave a smile and a strong handshake when he saw me. We had barely said "hello" when he began to tell me of his discovery.
In order to understand the importance of this discover to the two of us, one must understand the events of a particular term that the two of us spent together