In 1918, just twenty-four hours before, the Great War had ended for John Ronald Reuel Tolkien who now set about the life-long work of the Middle-earth opus. A good deal had been written while Tolkien was laid up in a military hospital and at home with trench fever. No long suffering from combat tension, Tolkien was not gripped with a new kind of fear. Not longer fearing death, he wonder if he still wanted to live.

"Morgoth [Tolkien's fear of death] was thrust through the Doorof Night beyond the Walls of the World, into timeless void. The power of Terror and of Hate, sowed in the hearts of Men are a seed that does not die and cannot be destroyed; and ever and anon it sprouts anew, and it will bear dark fruit even unto the latest days " ~ Of the Voyage of Earendil and the War of Wrath