A New Star

Written By: truffles-koboi
You can read the Original Here:
All Credit goes to the Original Author

Prologue

Arwen and Aragorn’s line was promised to never perish. The Valar willed it to be so, knowing that in the dominion of men there would come a time when the first born would come again to Arda, and a new alliance would be formed. This time would be marked by the coming of the next Evenstar, in a world where no elves walked; a land of men. She would carry her fore-mother’s pendant that contained the light of the Eldar, bright once more, and change the destiny of men forever. However, that time would take thousands of years to come, and many lives of men would pass.

And so, the Evenstar pendant was passed down Aragorn’s line, until Gondor perished, through hundreds of years and lives. Civilizations came and crumbled. The history of the first ages of Arda turned to myth. Myth faded into legend, and legend faded into ash, leaving only a few traces in the fairy tales told to young children.

Yet still, the Evenstar pendant was given to the first child of every generation, the light that had once shown in it snuffed out like a candle. However, the pendant still was passed on, until none who carried it knew why. But, it was not lost. A sense of duty was accompanied within it; a need to pass it on through the ages.

Almost one million years had passed when the new Evenstar was willed into being by the Valar. Arda had changed forms in that time, species had come and gone, and all traces of elves, hobbits, dwarves, and the other creatures of middle earth had vanished.

In the town of Portland, Oregon, in a hospital on top of a hill, a woman was giving birth to her first child. On the lady’s neck, amid perspiration and beads of sweat was a beautiful clear pendant.

The birthing of Alva was not an easy one, taking nearly the entire night. As the sun was just licking the tops of the tree line, she was born. All was quite in the in the room as her parents, the nurses, and the midwives stretched their hearing to its furthest extent to hear the babe’s first cries. There was a slight pause, and then a light and playful breeze came through the window that had been closed only moments before. At that, a beautiful laugh was heard from the now visible babe.

Her skin was a pale rosy color, and she seemed to be completely clean, something unheard of for a just born child. Shoulder length hair envelope her face, a rich brown color that seemed to shine in the early morning sky. Her visage was slightly angular, but she also had slightly rounded cheeks that showed when she smiled (As she was doing now), and a miniature button nose. The most startling of all of her features however, were her eyes and ears. Her eyes were round and a deep grey blue. When she looked alertly into a person’s eyes, she seemed to be looking straight into their souls. Her ears tapered into points at the tips, making her look strangely elf-like.

She laughed again, causing the ogling crowd to jump and come to their senses. As they did so, the sun seemed to jump up on command as well, and the sky was painted with a most splendid array of colors.

Only one person noticed the natural light show in the sky however. The baby. Everyone else in the room was trying to figure out how the babe had managed to be born completely clean and unscathed, how she could laugh and smile at only zero minutes old, and be viewing everyone around her as alertly as a round eyed toddler. As one, the medics converged upon her, frantically trying to get her pulse, to make sure that she had enough oxygen, and anything else that would be able to explain her inexplicable beauty and maturity, and in hope that she was at least in one way a normal babe.

The mother would have none of their squabble. Glancing annoyed at the medics she picked the babe up and laid her on her lap. “Her now,” she said with some annoyance, “She may have been difficult to get out, but she looks all right to me. I will name her Alva.” She had found the name while reading a baby name book and it meant ‘white or white folk.’ She had never really taken to it, but the name had come to her lips without bidding. It just seemed to fit.

Alva looked to her mother relieved when the medics back off. The mother reached unclasped the pendant hanging around her neck. Ignoring the protests of all around her about the danger of giving anything of the sort to a baby that could strangle themselves, choke, or have other bodily harm come to them via a breakable pendant around their neck, she looped the silver like chain around Alva’s neck.

“It must be done,” she stated. She did not know why the pendant needed to be passed on, but some sort of force unknown was screaming at her to do it. As soon as the pendant touched Alva’s skin, it shown as bright as the brightest star, and seemed to make the babe even more beautiful if possible. The company looked on with awe.

Alva King was a sight to remember.

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Mary King and Peter Harris, parents of Alva King started out in awe of their daughter, Soon however they began to get worried. When they came to check on her at night time, she would be wide awake, her eyes alert and inquisitive. She did not seem to enjoy the repetitive games enjoyed by most very young children, peek-a-boo, or any other game or story of the sort.

They first began to realize how strange she really was when she was only a few months old. She had found some paper and a pencil on a low shelf where her mother had left them on accident on the way up for her nap. When her mother found her an hour later after waking up to find Alva’s playpen tipped over and empty, Alva had drawn an ocean scene on the paper complete with light waves and gulls flying overhead. In the background was a white city. Two people stood in the foreground on the sandy shore. One was female and wearing around her neck the exact same shining pendant that Alva now wore around her neck, an absolutely exquisitely drawn gown that seemed to shine in the setting sun, and a circlet around her head. her arm was snaked around noble looking man with a tunic and breeches, along with a sword and crown. Not far away down the shore were three short men with rather hairy feet. They were all crying, and seemed to be looking at a far away ship.

With a jolt, Mary realized that the beautiful female in the picture looked not unlike how she could imagine Alva looking like as and adult. Who were these people? And how was her daughter, a three month old baby, able to draw them? She had never even seen an ocean before, much less swords, crowns, and the like. Praying that she was just dreaming and would wake up to her nap to see a sleeping daughter in her playpen, Mary was jolted into reality by a light tap on her leg.

Looking up from the picture, Mary felt as if she was emerging from a great depth of water. Pointing towards the man in the picture, Alva said ‘Ada” with an air of sadness. “You want it back?” asked her mother, mistaking the Sindarin for a baby’s gibberish. Alva just sighed.

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That evening, when Peter came back from his job at the university, Mary showed him the picture that Alva had drawn. They agreed that such ability was definitely not normal, and that they would take her to the doctor the next morning and see if he would have any idea about her ability. Once the appointment was made, they went to check on their daughter. Sure enough, she was laying in her crib with her eyes open, a slight frown on her face. She looked a bit annoyed, as if she didn’t understand why she had to lay in a crib for the entire night. Lowering the bar of the crib so that he could easily reach her, Peter kissed her brow, and then left the room with his arm around Mary. He had forgot to raise the bar.

The next morning, they found twelve more drawings on the ground. Alva had slipped out of her crib, found some pencils and paper at crawl level, and drawn until dawn, when she crawled back to her room and, not being able to jump back into her crib, had curled into a ball and lain awake for the rest of the morning. Mary and Peter were completely baffled. They had never seen her crawl before.

The Early Years

The doctors were completely baffled. No infant could draw like that. In fact, they had never seen anything like it in adults. After examining the picture, many of the doctors and staff found themselves crying for no particular reason. It was as if the people in the picture had spoken to them about whatever sorrow they were experiencing.

It was common knowledge in the scientific world that no the imagination of children had to be based on something that they had seen, someone who had never heard talk of or had never seen something could not make perfect pictures of it. If a four year old had a particular interest in trucks, he or she might draw a picture of one that had wings. But four year olds in general could not draw things as Alva had done. They did not have the fine motor control. To have a three month year old draw something of the, who couldn’t talk, walk, or crawl yet (or so they believed) would be just impossible. She was turning all of the scientific knowledge known to man, turning it upside down, and then twisting it into a mobius strip.

Of course, there was also her pendant. When the doctors tried to remove the glowing jewel, they found that they couldn’t get near it or Alva. A sort of invisible force-field seemed to surround her and though her parents could touch her with a loving gesture such as a pat on the head, they could. But, if she was approached with anything sharp like a needle, or anyone or a thing that had the intention of harming her or removing her pendant, they could not reach her. An invisible steel barrier blocked her from any harm. The doctors attempted a variety of tests on her, and reached no conclusions based on the results. All the while, Alva looked on with an air of confusion. Why were these people looking at her? Why did they want to take away the shining star around her neck? She looked straight into the eyes of the people around her troubled, looking for some of her own answers. All who met her intense stare found it troublesome, and looked away immediately.

Eventually, they decided to just let her be and told her parents to watch for more extraordinary behavior, and to let her have all of the paper and pencils she wished.

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Almost from the time she was born, Alva knew that she was different, even before she could talk and fully understand those around her. When her parents took her places with them, she would see other people and babies around her. They did not look like her at all. They seemed to be completely oblivious to the world around them most of the time, and could not even support there own necks. They lay around with their eyes closed for the majority of the time. When people saw the babies, they would immediately start to talk in complete nonsense, make strange noises, and then walk away smiling. When people came up to Alva, they would start lavishing about how adorable she was, but as soon as they looked into her gaze, they would seem to get unnerved and walk away. Sometimes the things she did seemed to scare her parents.

In her resting periods at night, she would have strange visions. The people in the visions seemed to be more like Alva than those around her. The people would just watch her, sometimes carry her, and show her scenes and different places. Though they spoke, she could not understand them. Two people came in the scenes often. Her parents. A sort of special feeling came to being with them, and she sometimes was able to communicate with them in a way that she was never able to with her true parents. Not by speaking, but by mutual feeling. In this time where she was stuck in a small cage at night while her parents, Alva spent her time watching and learning. In the day time, she would draw the scenes she had witnessed on the paper that

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Alva walked for the first time at five months. She had been crawling for some time, and after her parents walk one day, she stood up and steadily walked towards them where they were standing across the room. They were surprised, but not overly so. Her strange behaviors were beginning to be the norm for them.

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At six months and a day, Alva spoke for the first time. There had been a few elven words that she said before that, but those had gone unnoticed by her family.

On her first day of English speech, Mary, Peter and Alva had been invited to their friend Elsa’s house. Elsa acted as Alva’s unofficial godmother, and had a son of her own, Pierre. Pierre was four, and very much wanted to see the new baby. Not listening to Mary and Peter’s protests about how their baby was rather odd and how Pierre might not have very much fun, and how they didn’t really feel comfortable around other people with her, Elsa insisted they come.

Much to the surprise of the general populace of those who knew Alva, she and Pierre got off brilliantly. He did not view her as any different from most people, as he had a judgmental free and innocent way of viewing all around him.

Pierre had a wild imagination, and would tell stories of anyone who listened. As soon as Alva’s parents had placed Alva into a sort of baby swing and sat down to some wine, Pierre was off.

He told her of beautiful people who walked down from stars, great battles between the monsters and them, and how he had tickled all of the Evil Monsters as they were so called to death, and how the star peoples children were allowed to go to bed as late as they wanted to, and how they played tag all day and ate unripe bananas (Pierre’s favorite food).

All the while that he talked, his golden curls bounced up and down as he gestured enthusiastically. Alva watched and listened, her eyes bright with wondor. When he finished, her chiming laugh rang out, and she clapped her hands together happily. Pierre grinned.

That night, when Pierre and Mary had returned to there hose, Alva looked up at the sky through the window. The sky was clear, and the Milky Way was visible. The pendant that hung around her neck seemed to be as bright as the brightest star. Tilting her head up even further, Alva said her very first word. “Star,” followed with her first sentence at her parents’ incredulity. “Why are you both staring at me?”

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While Mary and Peter loved their daughter greatly, to say that they were afraid of her would not be an overstatement. She was different than any other baby that they had ever met, and nothing in the courses they had both taken on baby psychology had prepared them for her.

They both shared very different views on her as well. Mary wanted to just let her grow up, and support her in any way that she could, and have her treated with kindness like any other human being. Granted, her child was different, but nothing about her behavior made her feel like her child was dangerous and/or had a ‘problem.

Peter was of a different opinion. He had been looking forward to having a normal child who he could teach how to work computers, and play games with. He had been taught to expect things from his child like bad grades, maybe some rebellious attitude at an older age. He would have been completely fine with a child that maybe had a learning disability, or had trouble reading. What he had not been prepared for was a child who was exactly the apposite, a child that seemed perfect and extraordinary in so many ways that he could not count them one both hands.

This unprepared-ness made him start to view her as unnatural, having a disease that had to be eradicated. It was not something that he intentionally thought; he did after all want the best care for his daughter. Soon, however, his views became more and more of the like. He wished to treat this problem, and his wife wanted to tolerate and support it.

As their ideas began to clash, they began to fight. First it was just little skirmishes that were solved with a hug and a kiss, then to larger rifts in their relationship. The first time Alva spoke, and spoke in a full and fluent sentence no less, the first true rift occurred.

How do you respond to a five month old baby who just asked you why you were staring at her? Anyone would be shocked into unreason, and Alva’s parents were not any sort of exceptions to that rule. Mary was the first to come to her senses, and tremulously answered that they were just surprised and proud that she could talk. After giving her mother a long searching gaze, Alva wriggled out of her mother’s grip, and continued an unfinished drawing of clocked figures battling the same man that had been in Alva’s first picture, and the short men on top of a hill.

That same night Mary and Peter had a whispered argument, unaware that Alva was not asleep, and could hear every word that they said.

“She isn’t normal,” a man’s voice pronounced flatly. Her father, Peter. “You know that for a six month old child is incredibly rare for them to be able to speak, much less as fluently as a twenty year old.”

“Yes I know that, but our child isn’t normal,” replied her mother with some pride.

“She’s unnatural,” her father said. There, he had said it. And it was the truth. Only a freak could act like her.

A slight pause followed his proclamation as Mary stared at him in disbelief.

“It’s true,” insisted Peter. “You’ve seen her drawings, and how no one can touch her.”

“Even if she is different and maybe a bit more advanced than the average baby,” replied Mary in a tone that suggested that she was close to tears but that also carried a hint of steal, “she is still our daughter, and I’m willing to stick with her and support her until I’m on my death bed.”

That night, Mary King slept on the sofa.

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Mary and Peter divorced when Alva was almost one. Their differences were just to much, and Mary refused to forsake her daughter for her relationship. Alva would remember her father in later years only vaguely, as Mary got full custody of the babe. In his bitter state, Peter wanted nothing to do with his daughter, and moved across the country and remarried to have two slightly under-average children.

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Alva grew up happily with her mother. Pierre and her ended up being great friends, and went on many adventures together. Together they would voyage to far away lands, and find hidden treasure, climb great mountains, and travel to the tips of the world where you could touch the stars themselves. All the while, Alva wore her pendant, and as the years wore on it became brighter and brighter.

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Eventually, Alva got to truly see the sea that she drew so often. She ran down the sand, her small feet barely making any marks. Her hair had grown out to her waist, and flew out behind her as she laughed and skipped. The waves, normally ferocious seemed only playful. As the gulls cried over head, a voice called out from the sea. Singing of the lost, calling out for her. She stopped laughing, and looked out to the sea sadly, her eyes reflecting the ocean. For a moment, she seemed to be in a trance, and then she walked back to her mother and hugged her leg tightly. A single tear fell down her face. Somehow, she knew. Her kind was out there somewhere. Someday, she vowed, she would help them come back. She was only three years old.