2: Assessment

Wiseman, Alaska, late January:

Glorfindel looked around the conference room, seeing that all was in readiness for the upcoming meeting. The room had originally been the billiards room for the oil baron who had built the mansion now housing the Elves who resided in Wiseman, Alaska. It was paneled in dark wood and a crystal chandelier illuminated it. Hunting trophies had been removed and replaced with paintings done by Serindë, the daughter of Vorondur and Ercassë, and the youngest Elf in their retinue. She’d been born in the early years of the present age, yet she was considered the ‘baby’ of their little group, much to the relief of Elrond’s twin sons, who had held that position previously.

Glorfindel grinned at that thought as he walked around the conference table, making sure everything was in place. It was round and seated twelve, always an important number among the Eldar. The six Elves who’d first come to Wiseman sat there with the six Mortals whom they had befriended. Additional seating for everyone else was arranged in two arcs behind the table, leaving a gap before the door for easier egress. Satisfied with what he saw, he went to a sideboard that took up most of the wall space on one side, its ornate oak wood carvings recalling an earlier time. It was covered with several plates of goodies and a large crockpot simmering away with mulled cider. He poured himself a cup and glanced at the grandfather clock quietly tick-tocking away in the corner. Almost time.

As if that thought had summoned them, the door opened and Glorfindel looked to see several people entering. He smiled in welcome. "Right on time," he said. "Refreshments are on the sideboard. Help yourselves. As soon as everyone arrives we’ll get started."

With that, he went to his usual seat while the others congregated around the sideboard. A few more people arrived and after about ten minutes all were settled in their seats. Glorfindel looked around those seated at the table. Daeron, as their resident loremaster, sat on his left while Nimrodel, acting as recording secretary, was on his right. Beside her sat Mithrellas while Elladan sat beside Daeron with Elrohir next to his twin. The Mortals sitting with them were Zachary Austin, Judson von Frank, Matthew Stevens, Cassidy Morgan, Shane Englebert and Lily Zhang. Seated around them were the other Elves who made Wiseman their home as well as several other Mortals from the college and the community who constituted the governing board of the Northern Lights Community College’s Elf Academy.

"Let’s get started," Glorfindel said, speaking Sindarin, for that was the language spoken among them, even the Mortals, who sometimes had to resort to English when their knowledge of Sindarin failed. The Elves were tolerant of this and offered gentle corrections, being sure to praise them for learning the language as well as they had. As everyone ceased talking, Glorfindel looked around at those at the table, the Elves sitting still as stone, the Mortals fidgeting like elflings, and smiled. "So my children, how did we do?"

Now even the Mortals became completely still, everyone looking at everyone else, no one apparently willing to be the first to speak. Daeron raised an amused eyebrow. "Well, I guess I’ll start."

There were no sighs of relief, but the tension previously felt lessened and everyone relaxed as they listened to Daeron’s report.

The loremaster picked up a sheet of paper, giving it a quick perusal. "We had a class size of four hundred. Of that, approximately forty percent or actually a hundred and sixty-five came from out-of-state, twenty percent or about eighty people originally came here the winter before as tourists. These are the ones to whom we revealed ourselves as instructed by the Belain." He nodded towards the Elves sitting at the table. "The rest of the students came from somewhere in-state, most from the south."

He paused to see if anyone had a comment but when no one spoke he continued. "We surveyed the students and approximately eighty percent said that they were either satisfied or very satisfied with the courses and their experiences as Elf Guides. Fifteen percent said they were somewhat satisfied and the other five percent apparently weren’t happy campers." The drollness of his tone got a chuckle from his listeners. "The biggest complaint appears to have been the physical education requirements. This was especially true for the older students, those who were in their late twenties and early thirties. Most were unsure why an Elf Guide needed to know how to fence or engage in martial arts or use a bow and arrow."

"And yet, I noticed that it was the older students who were more enthusiastic about taking those particular courses," chimed in Phil Gordon, who headed the community college’s athletics program. He was sitting in the outer perimeter. "The survey seems to suggest otherwise."

Daeron shrugged and gave a slight smile. "I long ago ceased to try to figure out Mortals and their ambivalence towards many things in life. I can only tell you what were the results of the survey. I leave the psychoanalysis to others."

Glorfindel hid a smile at the almost identical expressions of affront on the faces of the Mortals sitting there. "The evidence does seem contradictory," he said, looking at Phil. "You’re saying that the older students were more enthusiastic about the phys. ed. program than the younger students? But there’s only at most a five or six year gap between the two age groups."

"Which means nothing to the Eldar but someone who is twenty-three is usually less mature in their outlook on life than someone who is thirty, especially if that thirty-year-old is married with at least one child, though perhaps you Elves would not necessarily notice the difference. I can’t explain the discrepancy. I can only tell you what I saw and not just me, but the other coaches also noticed the same thing."

"Well, we’ll have to look into it later," Glorfindel said. "Let’s move on." He nodded to Daeron to continue.

"I’ve done up a summary of the evaluation and you each have a copy before you. You can look it over at your leisure and we can discuss its ramifications over the Spring, but what I want to draw your attention to is the survey given to the townspeople." Here he picked up another sheet. "As was done before, we asked for volunteers from the townspeople to act as tourists during the students’ final exam. The response, both in numbers and in praise, was overwhelming. Of those who had participated as volunteers the first time, nearly ninety percent said that, overall, the quality of the students had improved and they were very pleased with the results. As a type of control, we recruited people who had not been volunteers that first winter and they gave us a ninety-seven percent approval rate. So obviously we’re doing something right."

They all chuckled at that.

"And finally, this year’s tourists," Daeron said after a moment. "Last season, only about five percent of those who came here as tourists were assigned to one of us Elves as their guides. Originally, we Elves did not think we should act as guides this time around, but of course that didn’t happen." He gave them a somewhat rueful grin and everyone there nodded, remembering the rather remarkable incident when two people showed up one day....

****

It was early in the term, and classes had been in full swing for a couple of weeks. On a particular Saturday, the Elves living at Edhellond were spending the day in conference, reviewing their teaching goals and expectations now that things were settling down. With them were a few of the Mortals who were involved in teaching as well, or acting as mentors to the students.

Amroth was in the middle of explaining how he and Paul Pettingill and the other rangers wanted to set up weekend camping trips throughout the semester to give the students a more hands-on experience of living in the wilderness when the doors to the room suddenly were flung open. Amroth stopped speaking and everyone craned their necks to see who had entered, but there was no one there.

Then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat and several people, most notably the Mortals, jumped in surprise, turning to see someone standing next to Glorfindel, who scrambled to his feet, as shocked as everyone else at the sight of Tulkas Astaldo, giving them a knowing smile. The Vala was dressed in a leather vest and leggings, his feet shod in sandals.

All the others also rose, and the Mortals had the satisfaction of seeing the Elves looking very nonplused, something that rarely happened.

Glorfindel bowed. "M-my Lord Tulkas," he stammered in Quenya, "welcome to... um... Edhellond."

The Vala gave Glorfindel a sideways glance, his smile broadening. "But not too welcome, heh, elfling?" he said in the same language.

"No... I mean... um... that is... my lord, what are you doing here?"

Tulkas’ answer was to throw back his head and laugh, reaching out with one arm and grabbing Glorfindel to give him a hug. Everyone had the dubious pleasure of seeing Glorfindel turning purple, struggling to breathe.

"Carefully, Brother. You know how fragile these mirroanwi are."

Now everyone nearly collapsed in shock as another person walked into the room and some visceral instinct alerted the Mortals that this was someone whom they would someday come to know more intimately than any of them would like.

Námo, Lord of Mandos, strode in, an amused expression on his face. He was dressed in a robe of midnight blue velvet with flowing sleeves over a shirt of dark purple figured silk. He wore a mithril circlet on his head, his blue-black hair Elf-braided. Around his neck he wore a pendent of gold and onyx with his emblem of the Sun-in-Eclipse.

Everyone instinctively bowed, even the Mortals who were becoming used to engaging in what most considered old-fashioned mannerisms. Tulkas, meanwhile, had released Glorfindel from his grip and was rubbing his back, keeping the ellon standing with a negligent hand on his elbow as the Elf-lord tried to get his breath back. The others just stood there uncertainly, not knowing what was going on. No one could look at Námo directly, most were looking at Tulkas as the safer bet.

Daeron reached over and grabbed the glass of water sitting in front of Glorfindel’s seat and handed it to the ellon who nodded his thanks. He drank the water in two gulps and put the glass down, turning to Námo. "So, Nate, long time no see. Whatcha been doing with yourself lately?" he said, deliberately speaking in colloquial English, much to the shock of the others, especially the other Elves.

Námo threw back his head and laughed and Tulkas joined him, the crystal chandelier above them swinging as if from an earth tremor. "I almost deserve that, elfling," Námo said, when he and Tulkas had calmed down. He spoke in English. "Almost." He gave Glorfindel a significant look and the Elf had the grace to blush and stammer an apology, giving the Vala a proper bow. Námo nodded and turned his amaranthine eyes upon the rest of the group. "Be at peace, my children. All is well. Come, sit. We need to talk."

Elves and Mortals looked to Glorfindel for reassurance and when the ellon nodded, taking his own seat, the others followed suit. Tulkas remained standing between Glorfindel and Nimrodel, his arms crossed before him, while Námo stood opposite him between Zach Austin and one of the Elves, an ellon named Gilvegil, otherwise known as Gil, both of them looking a little ill. Námo placed a comforting hand on their shoulders, willing calm, and soon they were relaxing. The Lord of Mandos looked at Glorfindel.

"You must forgive our intrusion, but certain matters need to be discussed."

"We’ve been holding planning meetings all Spring and Summer," Glorfindel said with a frown. "Why choose now to join us when we’ve already started teaching?"

"Well, for one thing, you’re not our only concern," Námo said. "There was a supernova in the Andromeda galaxy that needed our attention. Lord Manwë was concerned that some of the higher dimensions in that particular area of space might be adversely affected. As it is, it took most of us to deal with the situation. We’ve only just gotten back."

"S-s-supernova?" Zach Austin stammered, his eyes wide as he looked up at the Lord of Mandos.

"Andromeda galaxy?" Paul said almost at the same time, his jaw dropping. "But that’s... um... far away." He looked apologetic at being unable to come up with a better description.

"About two-and-a-half million light-years, give or take," Námo replied with equanimity. "Merely a thought away for us."

"Oh," Paul said, not able to muster up anything more or better to say. The Mortals all stared at the two Valar, dimly beginning to understand just who these Beings were.

"Getting back to the matter at hand, my lord," Glorfindel said with a wave of his hand. He was more familiar with the Valar and their abilities than anyone else there and was less impressed, or rather, he was very impressed, but chose not to show it, thereby implicitly letting the others know how to act.

Námo raised an eyebrow. "Very well. I believe you have decided not to be an Elf Guide this time around, nor are any of the other Firstborn."

"Well, we are the teachers, after all," Glorfindel said with a faint smile. "It just wouldn’t do."

Námo shrugged. "That is neither here nor there. You who were Elf Guides last year will be guides again this year. We’ll leave it to you to decide with which companies you will associate yourselves, though I think it would be wise to simply have the resort or safari company you worked for last time rehire you for the duration. Actually, you should consider yourselves permanent employees of said resorts and safari companies."

"Is that an order, my lord?" Glorfindel asked, frowning slightly.

"If you wish, or think of it as a very strong suggestion which would make us all very happy if you complied." The underlying threat to that statement was not lost on any of them. The Mortals, especially, hoped never to see this particular Vala unhappy about anything.

Daeron cleared his throat. "I’m assuming you wish us to reveal ourselves to whomever we are assigned to guide just as before?"

Námo nodded, looking pleased. "Yes. We will be manipulating things to assure that you six are assigned certain people. This is an ongoing project, my children, one that will take years to see to fruition. For better or worse, Wiseman has been chosen as our base of operations here in these Mortal lands. For the foreseeable future, continue acting as Elf Guides along with the Mortals, revealing your identities to those whom we send."

"What about the rest of us?" Amroth spoke up.

Námo nodded. "The rest of you may join as Elf Guides if you wish, but for the moment, we are limiting contact only to the six who originally came here. Getting the right people to them will be tricky enough without adding to the problem. In time, we may allow you to switch off, as I believe the expression is, so you others can have the fun of revealing yourselves to the Secondborn."

"How magnanimous of you, my lord," Amroth retorted somewhat sarcastically, casting a wry look at the Vala.

"Oh, you have no idea just how magnanimous we truly are, Child," Námo said with all seriousness. "Now, if that’s settled, we need to be on our way."

Tulkas nodded and made his way around the table to stand beside Námo, who gave them a smile. "You are doing well, my children, and we are proud of you." With that, the two Valar walked out of the room, the doors closing silently behind them....

****

"How many more tourists were we assigned compared to last year?" Glorfindel asked. "I got the impression that I had more assignments than last time."

"We all did," Daeron said with a nod. "Last year we Elves worked an average of three days out of seven, far less than everyone else from the Academy. This year the average was five days. The number of tourists who came during the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s was about the same as last season, mostly due to the continuing economic crisis, but we Elves guided approximately fifteen percent of them."

"That’s a significant jump," Elladan said with a low whistle.

"Very," Daeron said with a nod. "And I noticed that, on the average, the families we guided usually had older children. Last year I think the average age of the children was ten or eleven, but this year it was closer to thirteen."

"Is that significant?" Mithrellas asked.

Daeron shrugged. "Only time will tell," he replied.

Glorfindel nodded. "In the meantime, we need to discuss any changes we want to make to the curriculum for next term and whether we want to expand the curriculum into a two-semester program, which I believe has the approval of the resorts and safari companies." He turned to Roland Smith, president of Wiseman’s Chamber of Commerce. The man nodded.

"Winter is not the only season we have here," he said somewhat dryly. "We want to expand the program to incorporate all seasons. We need guides all year round."

"That can be handled by other colleges in the state offering such programs, though," Elrohir commented.

"But we have a unique situation here and it would be wise to keep such matters in-house, so to speak," Smith said.

"Well, for the moment we need to concentrate on Elf Academy training people to be guides during the winter season," Glorfindel said. "We have no mandate to expand and I would like to make sure Elf Academy is fully established before looking at expanding its program. Now as to changes in the curriculum, I believe we were going to institute sword-fighting, replacing fencing."

"I recommend we don’t do away with fencing," Phil Gordon said. "Sword-fighting takes a great deal of physical strength and not everyone has it, even among males. I would keep fencing for those who may not desire to take up sword-fighting or are physically not capable of doing so."

"Like me, for instance," Lily Zhang said, raising her hand. "I have to agree with Phil. I have no desire to go into that kind of training, nor do I think everyone should be made to."

"How do the rest of you feel?" Glorfindel asked, looking at the various Mortals. Most shrugged, not willing or unable to offer an opinion.

"I think we should go slow with this, myself," Elladan said. "Quite frankly, we should be teaching the children rather than the adults, though I know that idea won’t sit well with most parents these days."

"Martial arts should be stressed, I think," Shane Englebert said. "Everyone is into martial arts and archery. Let’s hold off on the sword-fighting as a mandatory class for now. I think you should offer it as an option first and see what response you get."

"That makes sense," Glorfindel conceded. "Everyone in favor?" They all raised their hands.

"Good. I will leave Elladan and Elrohir and Vorondur to design a course that will take into account the fact that we are teaching sword-fighting to adults rather than to children."

"Why is that significant?" Jud von Frank asked with a frown.

"Sword-fighting is a skill best taught when a person is young," Elrohir answered. "Ellyn were usually introduced to it when they were about thirty, using wooden practice swords. Mortals tended to start training their boys when they were about ten or eleven."

"Anything else?" Glorfindel asked.

"Are you going to offer Quenya as an optional course again or will you make it mandatory?" Zach asked.

"I think I will continue offering it as an option," Glorfindel replied. "While it is the language spoken by the majority of the people in Aman, it is not the only language spoken and when I left there were schools established throughout Eldamar for teaching Sindarin. I would like to expand the language program for the community, though. I think it wise for the children of Wiseman to be able to communicate in both languages, as well as the more popular languages of today."

"Then you want us to open up more classes to the community?" Alphwen asked. She was a Sinda who normally went by the name Alfa.

Glorfindel nodded. "Especially during the Spring and Summer when we are otherwise not teaching at the college."

"I can tell you that, as someone who lives and works in the community, I look forward to that time and so do others," said Max Lightfoot, who ran Lightfoot Reindeer Farms with his wife, Lucy. She was present as well, quietly nursing their infant son, Petey. "I only wish you could see a way to have classes for us during the Fall term as well, but I know at the moment that’s not possible and some of us are actually too busy working to bother."

"We may be able to open up one evening a week for the community where we offer a couple of courses," Daeron suggested. "Are there any particular courses that you think would garner more interest than others?"

Max shrugged. "Quenya, I think, plus more Sindarin."

"And history," Lucy spoke up. "I think we need more in-depth history to understand just what is happening and why."

Others among the Mortals nodded. "And that goes doubly so for those of us who are helping you teach," Marion Goodfellow said. "Sometimes I feel I haven’t a clue about what is really happening."

"We need more training," Deirdre Clannach said. "We need to know more than the students, but right now, we’re barely ahead of them and they know it."

"Then perhaps during the Spring and Summer we can set up a training program for those working with us at the Academy and the college at large," Nimrodel said.

There was general agreement to that idea and in the end Glorfindel asked Nimrodel and Marion to work together in designing such a program. "In the meantime, we will start recruiting for the next class. I think Daeron, Elrohir and Ercassë have ideas concerning recruitment."

The three Elves nodded. "And I think I may be able to improve on our hidden message to other Elves," Daeron said. "I cannot believe we fifteen are all that is left. There must be others out there and I mean to find them."

Glorfindel nodded, looking pleased. "Then, if that’s all, we will adjourn until next month when we can assess our progress on the different fronts. I am anticipating another successful year for Elf Academy. Thank you, everyone."

At that, the meeting broke up and people began to mingle and visit, all of them optimistic and hopeful that the next class of Elf Academy would be even better than the last.

****

Words are Sindarin unless otherwise noted: 

Belain: Plural of Balan: Vala.

Edhellond: Elf Haven, the name given to the mansion where the Elves residing in Wiseman live.

Mirroanwi: (Quenya) Plural of mirrowanë: An incarnate being, i.e. Elves and Mortals.

Ellyn: Plural of ellon: Male Elf.