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"The world has changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was lost, for none now live, will remember it.

It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings." the man spoke as he grabbed his flute and stroked it gantly, the smout surface gave him a nice feeling of comfort, recalling old memories.

"Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls." the man quickly glancing at his weapon that cut many of his enemies, it's placed by his side.

"And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power.

For within these rings, was bound the strength and the will to govern each race." he posed and looked at each one of the eyes of children who listened to him. They sat before him, legs crossed, eyes staring without blinking. Most of them were still, but some of them fidget, waiting for him to continue. The man didn't let his eyes wander, his voice became deeper, colder letting hair on anyone who listened stand on end.

"But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron, forged in secret, a master ring to control all others and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.

One ring to rule them all." the children slowly came together in one big circle. Faces became pailer by the secunde, they could hear silent screams coming from the forest beside them. The temperature of their bodies were falling little by little, coldness covering them like a blanket. Trembling little bodies didn't escape the man's eyes, his ears heard their fast biting hearts. His mouth couldn't help but to show a little smile, but tried hard not to show it.

"One by one, the free lands of Middle Earth fell to the power of the ring.

But there were some who resisted.

A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor and on the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle Earth.

Victory was near but the power of the ring could not be undone.

It was in this moment when all hope had faded that Isiadore, son of the King, took up his father's sword.

Sauron, the enemy of the free peoples of Middle Earth, was defeated."

quickly stopped, his ears picked out the sound of a cart trundling along the gravel road and a man singing a jully tone. The children let the warm air come in their lungs, the light wormed their bodies. Looking around, it wasn't as scary as they felt it was. The man signed, shucked his head and sadly looked at the children.

His deep voice wasn't as deep as before, it sounds more carefree.

"Well, it looks like the story will continue another time" standing up, he started packing his stuff, the sharp black weapon held in place by the side of his hip. Putting a big wooden hat on his head and long green grass in his mouth like a pipe. Flute was spinning on his hand lazely, turning around he was met with many complaints.

"Nooooo, i want to know what happens!"

"Yeah! You can't just leave it hanging!"

"It was good"

"Please finish it"

The many complaints made the man laugh in joy, getting on his knees he said "Even if we had time to finish the story, i can't" with this, the children couldn't help but look at each other, confusion was met on their faces clear as day. The man's shoulders were trembling, putting his head down and bringing his hand up to his mouth, clearly trying very hard to hold his laugh.

The children couldn't help but ask, tilting their heads to the side "so why did you tell us then?"

"Yeah"

"Yeah, if the story isn't finished then why tell from the beginning?"

"Orion, we are leaving!"

Orion stude up, shoved one of his cheesy smiles "because it is in the making" , turned around and ran to the cart, leaving the children to eat his dust. Hoping to the front seat he was met with an old man, big pointy hat, long beard and bad fashion sense.

"Which story did you tell them now? The children were quite eager for some reason" the old man wiped the horse and the cart started moving.

Joling back a little bit, Orion replay.

"I told them a story that hadn't finished" puting the sword at the back, he stared at the road ahead.

The old man raised an eyebrow, his eyes gazed at the road and couldn't help but look at youngman a few times.

"Oh, care to tell?" out of nowhere he brought out his pipe, lit it up and put it into his mouth.

Orion looked at him and gave one of his mysteries smiles "Why would i tell the story if it will unfold itself?"

The old man almost choked on smoke, Orion smirked and hoped at the back of the cart. Laying on his back, bringing his hat on his face to block the strong sun, his arms under his head and legs were half out in the open.

"Just bring us to the next destination, Gandalf. I'm sleepy so i will sleep, but if you want to sing i will not mind"

Gandalf wanted to question but hearing snoring from the youngman he only signed and looked ahead.

"Yes, the story will start from here. Hope you will like it Gandalf" the words were so silent that the wind blew them with the leaves.