“The Spark”
June 26, 2025
Photography Disclaimer:
All photos used in this article are the property of their rightful owner: yours truly.
You are welcome to view and share them for personal, non-commercial use, provided no modifications are made and clear credit is given to the original author or this website. However, if you wish to use any image for commercial purposes, you must obtain prior permission as per EU copyright law (Directive 2001/29/EC and related legislation).
_
How could I forgot to mention organisers of the event when posting this article? Shame on me, ha-ha.
Huge thanks to Sasha Volkova — and the whole Team of EDULARP who invited me to witness the LARP event and walk the lands of Middle-earth for 2 days!
This is unforgettable, and you are doing amazing job for the whole LARP community in the Baltics.
To keep in tought with Sasha and follow the events please visit those links:
AS SEEN BY A VOICELESS GHOST
The sequence of events, the names now lost to history, the locations — all that I write here must not be taken as an exact chronicle. On the contrary, these memories live on only within those who were there. My aim is not precision, but expression — to describe what I saw as an impressionist wields a brush: painting a picture for the curious, and reigniting memories for those who carry them still.
Time marches forward without mercy. Minutes become hours, hours become days, and memories begin to fade beneath the ever-rising dawn and the restless yearning for new adventures.
What was that fleeting moment — that dive into the world of Middle-earth? Just a few days that came and went, yet they held the weight of Sauron’s ring, powerful enough to stop the very spin of the world. Those days defied time. A weekend contained a whole timeline, woven together by stories I was merely a witness to this time. And from the perspective of a bystander, this story was born.
A story of life and love. Of intrigue and betrayal, pride and devotion, rise and fall, and epic battles. But above all — a story of regret. But we’ll get to that, in due time.
THE DAY OF SILVER
Come with me. Listen to the calm of the forests. Melt beneath the relentless sun. Bear witness — and tremble with the walls of Castle Brethil.
DOORSTEPS OF ETERNITY
My story begins with the Elves.
They were here long before humans walked these lands. Surrounded by forest shade, separated from all others, they moved through Middle-earth with a dignity known only to those bound to the world by a deeper thread.
Their council had begun. I saw the glances they shared — looks that spoke more than words ever could. Even the way they moved echoed the grace of sailing ships riding the ocean’s breath.
The human delegation arrived bearing news of a new, looming threat. And I could not help but notice how the young Elves watched their guests with suspicion and caution. Others spoke no words at all — but in their silence, one could almost hear them whisper:
“We have been here for centuries. We will remain long after the memory of you has faded —
as have the memories of so many humans before you.”
A FAMILY DISPUTE
From the cool veil of the forest to the sunburned prairie, where tents pointed their peaks toward the blazing sky — the embassy returned. The leader of Easterlings greeted them, speaking of the trials to come.
After a long journey, what they craved most was rest. So I left the camp behind and continued my wandering.
On the pier, two Dwarves were arguing. Tension rose. Their voices grew louder with each word. Even the Orc guarding the fortress gate left his post to check if there truly was an enemy approaching. The conflict escalated until words no longer sufficed.
A well-placed punch ended the dispute
And just like that, peace returned. It was sealed with a firm handshake and a mutual promise:
“We will survive. No matter what.”
DIVINE MOMENTS OF PEACE
Life in the settlements passed as if there was nothing to fear. Minor fights broke out now and then, but overall, peace still held. Those who walked the lands of Middle-earth did so without worry — their concerns were simple, and mostly peaceful.
Guests from distant camps were a common sight, and hospitality still flowed between fires.
No one knew that everything was about to change.
THE WEDDING
The castle — a recent refuge for those fleeing the conquests of dark forces — opened its gates once more. This time, it welcomed guests not with fear, but with an unbending declaration of unbroken spirit.
A statement of love. A statement of life that endures. That goes on, no matter what.
After the ceremony with vows spoken not only to one another, but also to higher powers — the celebration began. With it came the laughter. The clinking of cups. And for a moment, however brief, the wars were forgotten. There was only the dance. And the echo of joy ringing through the walls of Castle Brethil.
And what is the celebration if not a place for diplomacy behind the curtains. Plans were made, secret alliances forged...
All under the ever-present, ever-watchful gaze of the Dark Lord’s agents.
AN OATH
The shadows grew longer, stretching like dark fingers across stone and soil, as the sun dipped low and the world sank gently into dusk.
The wedding vows were spoken, the dance and the wine and the shared laughter beneath the torches. Joy gave way to silence. And voices rose in unity. Hands placed on hearts in promise. An oath was sworn that night.
To stand. To resist. To hold the line when shadows fall and hope is but a flicker in the wind.
THE NIGHT COMES
One could imagine another corner of Middle-earth as depicted by the scribes — where darkness spread across the land, shadows crept from every hollow and countless dangers stirred in silence, waiting.
Let us journey there, just for a moment.
Beneath different banners stood people. People who loved to dance and laugh, who celebrated and feasted, even as the night pressed in.
An artist dipped his quill in ink, crafting beauty stroke by stroke.
The fearsome Orcs, oddly enough, were the very embodiment of joy that night. Laughing, dancing, and tossing one another around, they seemed to revel more wildly than anyone else.
Ferocity gave way to festivity, and for a time, even the darkness stepped back an danced with them.
The celebration concluded with an unexpected twist: one of the locals was named the Queen of Sunset — by Sauron himself. And given such a title and unrestricted power to rule this night without warning or reason, she stood frozen in a mix of shock and awe.
THE NIGHT REIGNS
In that moment, I found myself wondering what the Dark Priestess saw in the future. For now, everything seemed calm — but there was something in the air, a subtle tension, a hum just beneath the surface, like the world itself was holding its breath.
It was anticipation, unmistakable and heavy. The kind that settles before a storm, before steel meets steel.
And not long after, another fight broke out. An ancient monster stirred from its slumber and came knocking at the castle gates.When the dust finally settled, it was Sauron, still welcomed within those walls, who commanded the creature to step back.
With moments of peace growing rarer, people's thoughts began to drift toward tomorrow. The fire still burned, offering its warmth and comfort, fragile though it was.
And once the darkness began to reign in all its glory the real magic happened. The sorcerers of fire danced thought the night, chasing shadows away in a ritual ritual both fierce and mesmerising.
And for a moment. There was peace.
Although I’ve used my own photos for this and the upcoming articles, I absolutely have to share this gallery!
Huge thanks to Jelena Ivanova — an incredibly talented photographer and a wonderful person. You can view the full gallery from The Day of Silver through her lens. Please consider visiting her portfolio to support and appreciate her amazing work.
Be the first one to comment!