Comdon village

Far away to the East of the continent, there was a remote village named Comdon. The weather here was very nice: never too hot in the summer, never too cold in the winter. The fertile land almost always provided enough food for human and animals. People here lived a self-sufficient life, not rich, but full of happiness.

There was a large tree near the entrance of the village. A boy was reading beneath the tree. He had a cleft chin, black hair and a pair of bright eyes. His handsome face looked young, but he was quite tall for his age.

He was reading the final chapter when heard a female voice singing. He closed his book and stood up, listening. Recognizing the voice, he smiled then ran to the road. He found a woman, wearing a gray cloak and a pointy hat, driving a horse-drawn cart.

-You're late!

The woman tipped her hat slightly, then slowly raised her head and looked at the boy:

-A witch is never late, John Saruman. Nor is she early. She arrives precisely when she means to.

Both slowly began to grin and finally crack up into laughter.

-It's wonderful to see you, Tia!

-Ooh! You didn’t think I’d miss your Uncle Bob's birthday, did you?

-Of course not! Come with me, he's waiting for you!

In the end of Comdon village, there was a mansion called Breaking Point. It's where Saruman family lived for generations. An old man was sitting in the sofa. Hearing the door opened, he stood up and greeted:

-Welcome, Tia, my friend!

-Hello, Bob Saruman. You're quite lively for a ninety-years-old man.

-Can't compare to you. You look like you haven't aged a day since I met you.

They exchanged a hug, then Tia sat down to the other side of the table. Bob said:

-I was expecting you here last week! Not that it matters, you come and go as you please. Always have done and always will. You caught me a bit unprepared, I'm afraid. We have some cold chicken and cheese...

-Tea alone is enough, thank you.

After drinking tea for a few minutes, Tia asked:

-Do you have anything to tell me? In the last letter, you said you want to ask me one thing, and it's not something you could say in a mere letter.

-Yeah, I do... It's harder to speak than I think... I want to leave this village.

-Why?

-I'm old, Tia. I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin --sort of stretched like butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday, a very long holiday, and I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to!

-Then what's your request?

-Oh no, not now... I want to talk about that in private... (a sudden, incessant knock on the door and a woman shouting: "Bob! Bob Saruman! ". Bob shouted: "I'm not at home!")... not around these confounded relatives hanging on the bell--they never give me a moment's peace!

-You are up to something.

-Oh, is that so?… All right, please keep secret. I want to give everyone a surprise.