Chapter 1: An Attunement in the Shire
In the endless, formless void, a single golden star streaked through the space between universes, pressing onward into the heart of chaos.
But as it passed one magnificent cosmos, a Will Unsurpassed cast its gaze upon it. A divine and holy music, the Great Song of creation, swelled around the light. With a single glance, the Will perceived the star's very essence.
And so, the golden star was gently guided, its trajectory altered, and it was drawn into this new universe. A new and unexpected note was added to the cosmic symphony, lending a touch of unpredictable melody to a world born of music.
…
"Hello? Sir, wake up!"
A voice pulled him from the depths of sleep. As Corwin opened his eyes, he was greeted not by the familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling, but by a wild, sun-dappled forest.
A man was looking down at him, his face etched with concern.
Corwin was completely bewildered. Wasn't he just asleep in his own bed? How did he end up in the middle of the woods? And who was this stranger?
He voiced the first question that came to mind. "Who are you?"
"Oh! I'm Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, sir."
Bilbo Baggins? The name sounded eerily familiar.
Then it hit him. He froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. The man had spoken in perfect English, yet Corwin—who had barely scraped by in his language classes—had understood him completely. More than that, the words he had just spoken had flowed from him as naturally as his native tongue, an instinct he didn't know he possessed.
Stunned, he pushed himself to his feet and finally got a proper look at the man named Bilbo. The fellow was barely half his height.
A dwarf? No, that didn't seem right.
Looking closer, he saw that the little man had pointed ears and wide, bare feet with thick, leathery soles and a mat of curly brown hair.
This was no known race of Man.
Connecting the strange appearance to the familiar name, a wild and impossible theory sparked in his mind.
"You're a Hobbit?!"
The honest-looking Hobbit nodded sincerely.
"Then where... where is this?" Corwin asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"This is the Shire, sir. Hobbiton, in the Shire."
The last of Corwin's hope evaporated.
Gods above, what is happening? One moment he was sleeping, the next he'd been thrown into another world—and one of the most dangerous ones imaginable.
He knew what lived here. This world wasn't just home to Orcs, Trolls, and Elves. It was a land of Wizards, Dragons, Balrogs, and the god-like Maiar. Beyond them were the Valar, and even the creator of all, Eru Ilúvatar.
How was a normal person supposed to survive here? This wasn't a game; it was a nightmare-difficulty setting come to life.
Bilbo watched as a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, terror, despair—played across the tall man's face. He cautiously took a few steps back. This fellow seemed a bit unstable. But, being a kind and decent Hobbit, he couldn't bring himself to simply abandon the man.
"Er, sir? Are you quite alright?"
"I'm fine," Corwin said with a bitter smile. "I just... can't find my way home."
"You're lost?" Bilbo asked, surprised. "Well, you could buy a map in the village. They even sell maps of lands outside the Shire."
Corwin just shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "My home is very far away. So far, I don't think I could reach it in a lifetime."
Bilbo looked baffled, unable to comprehend the kind of distance he was talking about. Seeing the profound loneliness and sorrow that suddenly enveloped the man, the kind-hearted Hobbit wrung his hands, unsure how to offer comfort.
"Well, sir... I mean... would you perhaps like to come to my home as a guest?"
Corwin looked up, his sad expression broken by a flicker of surprise. Bilbo shuffled his feet, a bit embarrassed under the man's intense gaze.
"We don't get many visitors in the Shire," Bilbo mumbled. "If you have nowhere else to go, you could stay with me for a few days."
A look of genuine gratitude washed over Corwin's face, and he accepted immediately.
"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. You're a truly good person!"
Bilbo blushed at the praise. "Ahem, well, please, follow me, sir."
With that, he shouldered his fishing rod—which was more than twice his height—picked up his bucket, and led the way.
As soon as his back was turned, the sorrowful mask on Corwin's face vanished, replaced by a quiet sigh of relief. His emotions weren't entirely false, but he had certainly exaggerated them for Bilbo's benefit. He needed the Hobbit's sympathy and shelter. After all, he had been thrown into this strange world utterly alone. Without a helping hand, he'd be sleeping in the wilderness with beasts.
Besides, he knew, with a certainty that felt like a lifeline, that Bilbo Baggins was, in his own way, one of the main characters of this entire world. Whatever Corwin decided to do next, staying close to a protagonist would offer him far more opportunities and choices.
They followed a winding path past a series of unique Hobbit-houses. Most were built into the sides of grassy hills, their roofs covered in turf, with round wooden doors painted in cheerful shades of green, yellow, or blue. Tidy, flower-filled gardens stood before each one. They looked like something straight out of a storybook.
Passing Hobbits poked their heads out from their gardens, curiously eyeing the tall Man following behind Bilbo. Uncharacteristically, Bilbo didn't stop to chat with his neighbors, instead quickening his pace. Corwin, however, paid the stares no mind, offering polite smiles and nods to the curious Hobbits.
Soon, they arrived at a smial—a Hobbit-hole—at the end of the lane. A wooden sign on the gate read "Bag End." This was the home of Bilbo Baggins. Its garden was immaculate, clearly well-tended by its master.
"Oh, I forgot to ask your name, sir," Bilbo said, only remembering after he had opened the round, green door. "What do you call yourself?"
"My name is... Corwin?"
He had meant to give his old name, but the name "Corwin" simply popped into his head, and his mouth spoke it before he could think. It felt natural, as if it had been his name all along.
What was that? Corwin's mind reeled. Where did that name come from?
Bilbo, however, didn't notice his guest's strange pause. "Alright then, Corwin," he said, stepping inside. "Do mind your head on the way in. As you know, you Men are quite a bit taller than we are."
BAM!
Distracted, Corwin walked straight into a wooden ceiling beam. He yelped, clutching his head.
"Goodness, are you alright, Mr. Corwin?" Bilbo asked, his voice a mixture of concern and poorly suppressed laughter.
"I'm fine!" Corwin managed, rubbing the sore spot. He had no more time for existential questions. The Hobbit-hole was clearly not designed for his one-hundred-and-eighty-five-centimeter frame. He had to duck and stoop to avoid another collision. Giving up on figuring it out for now, he found a chair and gratefully sat down.
Bilbo, meanwhile, scurried into his kitchen to prepare something for his guest.
Just as Corwin was left alone, a line of text materialized in the air before him, shimmering with a faint, magical light.
[Hogwarts Legacy System: Location Acquired – The Shire – Hobbiton – Bag End. Do you wish to Attune?]
"What the devil?!" Corwin yelped, jumping in his seat.
Bilbo's head poked out from the kitchen. "Is everything alright, Mr. Corwin?"
"N-nothing!" Corwin stammered, realizing with a jolt that Bilbo couldn't see the strange message hanging in the air. "Nothing at all!"