Destiny's Ring

Chapter One
Journey to Middle Earth

When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again
(In Dreams - Fran Walsh/Howard Shore)

The rain began pouring just as Kendall Malloy exited the tour bus. With a glance of frustration at the heavens above her, she held her purse over her head, providing what meager protection she could, and darted across the street, toward the row of shops on the other side. Each one appeared welcoming, as any shelter from the sudden storm would, but she hurried for the nearest door, letting out a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her and the cold rain no longer touched her.

Still in all, she was already soaked to the bone, a fitting tribute to her last day in Scotland, she figured. From the onset, the trip had been less than stellar. Shortly after she had arrived, her wallet had been stolen in the airport and she was forced to call home for money and cancel her credit cards. Her hotel reservations had somehow gotten mixed up and she had ended up having to stay at a little hole-in-the-wall where she shared one bathroom with her entire floor and rarely was lucky enough to get hot water. The bed was lumpy, the neighbors next door much rowdier at night than she would have preferred and the heat only occasionally worked. If it was not for the majesty of the beauty of Scotland which surrounded her, Kendall would have considered this trip the biggest mistake of her life.

"Can I help ya, lass?" A kind voice called out.

Kendall tossed her dark red curls, droplets of water splattering around her. "Just seeking shelter from the storm, if you don't mind?"

"Ya seem a bit late for that," the man chuckled, coming around from behind the counter. "Since this is my shop, I am not much minding that ya'd use it to come in from outta the rain. Names McGregor." He appeared to be in his late sixties, a friendly grandfather-type, with kind blue eyes and stark white hair that was just a bit too long around the ears. "Here's a towel to dry yourself, lassie, before ya keep dripping on me rug."

Kendall flashed a chagrined expression as she took the offered towel. She refused to contemplate the often pondered question as to how the people of this country always seemed to have an item that she needed most at a particular moment. If she had been a superstitious person, the very thought might have frightened her. As it was, she decided instead that the people of this town were simply used to tourists.

"I'm not mistaken that you're an American," the older gentleman stated as she wiped at her face and hands and quickly towel dried her hair. "Are ya here with a tour?"

Kendal shook her head. "No. I came alone. I've always wanted to see Scotland so last year I decided to save up and do it! Now I'll simply be in debt the rest of my life - but at least I fulfilled one dream."

"There's quite a bit of wisdom speaking out in ya, lass." He smiled.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew me better," Kendall laughed in reply as she began wandering around the shop in curiosity. By all appearances it was an antique store, harboring rare items of Scotland's past. There were old swords and shields, moth-eaten tartans and worn leather belts. "Is everything in here from Scotland, Mr. McGregor?" She asked.

"No, lass," came the reply. "I tend to deal in oddities around all of Europe. I go where my instincts lead me and find what I can to bring back. Much of it hails from the old clans, aye, but there is also plenty from other far away places."

"During this whole trip I've been searching for something to take back as a memento with me," she commented, stopping over a jewelry case to glance at the small items that sparkled within. "Nothing has seemed quite right, though. Postcards just aren't what I'm looking for."

"Hmmm." McGregor watched her for a long moment before returning behind the counter. There he spent the next few moments digging through and old chest that was set on the floor near him before he finally stood back up and leaned over the case where Kendall was still exploring the old gems of ladies long passed. "What about this?"

The redhead glanced at the object he held in his hand. It was a plain gold band, nothing spectacular, and appeared to be no larger than a child's ring, one that certainly would not fit her. And she had particularly small hands. "I don't think so. Besides, it doesn't appear to be very old," she replied, turning her attention back to the glass case.

"Doona judge so quickly that which ya doona understand, lassie." He smiled kindly to soften the rebuke. "It may seem plain to ya now, but trust me when I say this ring is pure magic."

Wonderful, Kendall thought to herself. I've entered the shop of a loon. She forced a smile. "Thanks. But I don't have much of a need for magic."

McGregor gave her a hard look. "We all be havin' a need for magic, lass. Doona mistake that. Sometimes, it is all we have."

"It wouldn't even fit on my finger," she protested.

As if in answer, he pulled out a gold chain. "Ya might be wearin' it on this then."

Kendall shook her head in disbelief. "No, thank you. What about that necklace there? Are those rubies?"

The shopkeeper ignored her, stooping over to fumble through a drawer beside him. Turning back to her, he now had a pair of prongs and a lighter. Kendall found herself wondering if he was not now going to attempt to perform some ridiculous magic trick and make a rabbit appear out of a hat, or something else entirely silly. She watched with growing impatience as he carefully set the ring into the prongs, lifting it up before her, then holding the lighter beneath it. Kendall could not help but wonder how he would possibly think to convince her to buy it once it had burn marks all over it when he flicked the flame to life, holding it steadily beneath the gold band. Rolling her eyes, Kendall turned her attention back to the ruby necklace briefly, before her gaze slowly strayed back to the ring. For some reason, she was drawn to the oddity of it; the absurdity of this old man burning a plain gold band which he claimed to be magical.

The fire died. Nothing happened. Kendall sighed softly, preparing to find a polite way to take her leave when her eyes were quickly pulled to the ring once again. She blinked.

"That wasn't there before!" She accused.

McGregor smiled, nodding. "Tis magic, lass."

Magic or not, Kendall could not help but wonder how the strange writing the wound itself away the gold band was not noticeable before. It was writing unlike any she had ever seen before. "Is that Celtic?"

"Older than that, lass. This ring is older than the tales of Arthur and Excalibur."

Kendall pursed her lips, refusing to reply what she thought of that comment. Regardless of its age, the ring did fascinate her, as well as strike a chord in her memory. She frowned for a moment then sighed in resignation.

"Is this a typical scheme of yours, Mr. McGregor? To suck in the unsuspecting American? Next you're going to charge me some outrageous amount for that bauble. It may have been years ago, and I may not remember the story word for word, but I did read 'Lord of the Rings'. And this is not amusing in the slightest. You people should be ashamed of yourselves!" Grabbing her purse to go, Kendall only stopped when the Scotsman called out:

"This is no fake, I assure you. Nor have I ever read 'Lord of the Rings', though I have heard of it. I do not know to what you refer but this ring came to me from a dealer in Denmark."

Turning, Kendal flashed him a glare. "I highly doubt that, Mr. McGregor."

"Ya would leave Scotland without a piece of history then, lassie?"

"If it keeps my pockets full, yes."

"And what if I were to be giving it to ya? What then would ya say?"

"And why would you do that?"

"To show ya, lassie, that I am neither a charlatan nor a thief." He held the ring out to her. It was once more simply a plain gold band.

Kendall considered turning and leaving without another glance but something within her wanted the ring. She could not explain why. Convincing herself it would make for an interesting bit of entertainment among her RPG friends, she stepped back to the counter and took it from the shopkeeper's hand. If nothing else, she could sell it on Ebay to a Tolkien fan.

"Ya willna be soory, lass," McGregor told her. "It's me belief that ring can make all yer dreams come true."

Ignoring that bit of nonsense, Kendall stepped out of the shop without another glance at Mr. McGregor, never noticing the smile he flashed as the door closed behind her.

The storm has lessened in its severity enough to allow Kendall to make it safely back to the motel. Once there, she was pleased to discover that most of the guests were out on tours or shopping, so she quickly took possession of the shower, enjoying the hot water so much that she remained under the showerhead until the water began to run to its familiar cold.

Getting comfortable in her flannel pajama bottoms and heavy green t-shirt, Kendall returned to her room where she sat on the lumpy mattress and carefully combed the tangles out of her hair. It was a long process that usually required more patience than she normally had, for her hair was inordinately thick, fell to her waist and had natural, fat curls throughout. People that met her always commented how they wished they were as lucky but Kendall could not help but wish her hair was thin, straight and blonde and only took a few strokes of the brush to make it look presentable.

As darkness fell, Kendall finished with her hair, braiding it into a long plait that fell down her back, then scooted down beneath the blankets, fighting with the pillow for the next few moments until it resembled something she could sleep on. Closed her eyes, she prepared herself for the next morning when she would be flying back to the States. Unfortunately, sleep would not come, and she spent the next hour remembering everything she would have to do when she returned from her trip, the least of which was returning to a job she could not stand. Two years out of college and still she had no idea what she wanted to do. Her degrees, which were in Theatre and Equestrian Studies, left her options few and far between. Her friends often teased that she could train horses for Hollywood, which Kendall flatly rejected with the answer that they never pay the poor beasts enough. The truth was, Kendall often wished she was independently wealthy so that she never had to truly do anything. She could travel and play, read up on history or write a book. She could spend entire days doing absolutely nothing and never feel guilty about it, or she could travel around the country with the Renaissance Sword Theatre and participate in every and all Renaissance Festival produced. She laughed to herself at the thought, wondering what kind of strange life it would be to daily live outside of reality.

Kendall frowned suddenly, her thoughts quickly moving from everything that awaited her at home, to the ring. Sitting up in bed, she stared over at the dresser, where she had placed the gold band earlier after returning to the motel. As impossible as it should have been, she could see the ring clearly, as if the room were lighted and not dark. It seemed to stare back at her. And strangely enough, it called to her.

Tossing back the covers, Kendall climbed out of bed and padded over to the dresser, silently cursing the cold floor beneath her bare feet. When she reached for the ring, she hesitated, her brow furrowing. It appeared larger suddenly, as if it had somehow grown in size. Reaching out for it, Kendall scooped it into her hand, marveling at the weight and warmth she felt from it in her palm. Gazing down at it, she could not help but believe it would, for some unknown reason, now fit her. Slowly and smoothly she slipped it onto her left ring finger. A perfect fit. As Alice once said "Stranger and stranger," Kendall thought silently.

Wandering over to the window where the moon cast its light into the room, Kendall held her hand before her, staring at the plain gold band. She thought long and hard for the next few moments, back to her middle school days when she had been forced by her English teacher to read 'Lord of the Rings'. It was something she had not recalled in years, and now her memories were dusty and worn, like the pages of a forgotten diary.

"What were the words?" She asked aloud to the empty room. "One ring... One ring to find them... Yes, but not in that order." She sighed, searching her mind again, her frown deepening. "One ring to rule them... to rule them all. Okay. One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bind... no. There was more." She began pacing, an unexplainable panic building within her. For she suddenly felt as if she had to remember the words - she simply had to!

And then, like the clouds passing away from a storm, the entire verse came to her:

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."

She clapped happily, pleased with herself for remembering something she had scarcely glanced at in middle school, when boys and Duran Duran had seemed much more important. Fisting the hand that wore the ring, Kendall started back to bed when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. She halted, swaying uneasily in the center of the room. Knowing she should make it make to the bed before she fell and possibly injured herself, Kendall forced her feet forward, only there was nothing there to step toward. All around her, darkness closed in, as if an enormous void had suddenly appeared in the center of her room.

And then she was falling, and subsequently screaming, as the world around her vanished and drums began pounding loudly through her ears. In the midst of it all, a soft voice could be heard singing, almost calling to her from all around:

Out of the Black Years
Come the words
The Herald of Death
Listen - it speaks to
Those who were not born to die
The Ringspell...

All of the air seemed to be torn from her and Kendall struggled hard to gain a breath. Just when she was certain her lungs and heart would explode from the exertion, she descended into unconsciousness.

Continue to Chapter Two