Ithīriniðil by Serinquanion  

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Prologue - Aþāramaχallām

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“Brother! Brother! Nelyo, wake up! Wake up, please! Please. Please. Please.” The voice rang in his mind, repeating again and again. He felt a headache creeping up. Where was he? Who was it on him? And who was he? It felt like he was on a hard rock. Someone was sobbing hard on his chest. Wailing really. Until two more voices joined. They sounded younger. Afraid. Despite his whole body feeling like it was licked by molten fire, his instincts to comfort flared up. But he couldn’t move at all nor could he think straight. He did what he could, crack open his eyes.

“Atto?”

The one on his chest was a dark-haired elf. He raised his head, looking out of what was a cave opening. Two more elves — were they elves? They looked…weird and they were twins! A rarity among elves — stood there. They were young yes but adults already.

“You-why you two are here? Did you — No wait–” the older elf muttered almost crazily.

“Atto, atto, is atya okay? Will he be alright?” One of the twins asked, his voice was full of concern and fear.

“Y-yes, yonya.” The elf’s answer choked on an upcoming sob. “Airon, come here. Do you remember the song I taught you?”

“Yes, atto.” ‘Airon’ answered.

“Good. Good. Sing it to Nelyo. Elen, look after your brother’s back. I will try to get some herbs.”

“Atto, wh-where are we?” Probably ‘Elen’ said. “It’s dark but where is the moon? And where is ada?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Don’t leave this cave, understand? And if–” The elder’s voice broke, “I don’t return, try to find a bird and send a message to Lírwë when the sun rises.” Then a rustle of clothes and the older elf was gone. The two younger ones walked close to him. He tried to move away but his body won’t work. They sat down beside him, speaking in low voices before one of them began singing. The words he knew but there was an underline power to it. Has he ever heard it before? He felt the tension leaving his body and the pain growing numb. And soon, he was asleep despite trying to stay awake. When he woke up next time, it was still dark and he couldn’t feel any pain anymore, even the numbness was gone although he felt too weak to move still. The twins had ignited a small fire and they were speaking in whispers. But they were close enough that he could hear their conversation.

“How did you fully heal atya? The song was only to reduce pain.”

“I don’t know. He just did! It happened in a blink of eye”

“We have to tell atto when he returns.”

“Where is he? Do you think we should go out to find him, Elen?”

“But he said to wait until the daybreak.”

“Which should’ve arrived already! Where are we that the sky doesn’t have a moon or Gil-Estel nor does the night seem to end?” Even the stars they knew weren’t there in the empty vastness.

They grew silent, as if contemplating the question.

“We shouldn’t have tried to follow atto and atya out of the camp.” One of the twins murmured.

“Elen!”

“What? It is but the truth. Even atto knows it and earlier he didn’t like that we are here either.”

“Well! You do you. I am going out. Look after atya.”

“Airen, don’t–”

“I won’t go far, brother. I will stay within whistling distance and let you know if I encounter anything dangerous.”

Elen didn’t say anything to it but from the sound of it, the other elf had left already.

For a while everything was quiet and he was wondering if even the other elf had left him there. But then the noise of sniffling started to come from his side. The young elf held his hand in his palms and started crying silently, kissing the knuckles.

“Atya, everything is wrong here and I can’t tell my brother or atto. Please wake up soon. It doesn’t make sense without you. You are healed, aren’t you? So, please, please, wake up soon. I can’t even see if you will soon…” Elros choked on it when the stump landed between his shoulder blades and began to rub a comforting circle there.

“Don’t cry, yondo. It will be alright.”

When Elrond returned to the cave after scourging the dark forest all around it, he found the two huddled together. Finally awake, his atya’s face was all tense and brows furrowed and Elros looked like he had been crying. The two were speaking in low voices and a light that wasn’t from the fire was illuminating their faces.

Both were so enamored with whatever was in Elros’ palm that neither noticed Elrond until he looked over his brother’s shoulder to see what’s in his hand. “What are you two doing? Atya, are you still hurting anywhere?” The two straightened up in a blink and before Elrond could even see what was the light source, it disappeared. Weird. They were behaving very weirdly. But given current circumstances, he didn’t bring it up.

“I am feeling fine, yonya.” He answered to Elrond. At the same time, Elros asked, “Did you find atto?”

“No.” Elrond shook his head. “There’s no sign of him anywhere nearby except for some from hours ago, presumably when he left earlier. But I found something weird. Or rather heard and seen from a distance.”

“What?” Both he and Elros sat straighter.

“Something big is burning in both the North and the South. The whole sky in the West is painted in strange lightning. and there’s not a single man or elf around. We didn’t notice earlier because our vision was guarded by the mountain range this cave is in.” Elrond said, sitting down beside him to see if he had any wounds. He found it strange. Didn’t he already tell the young elf that he was well? “It seems to be very far away but I can’t think of why something big will be burning at all. The war was already won and Angband was levelled and not burned. And even then, there shouldn't be anything in the south.”

“Do you think something happened in the camp? Like the Host of the Valar didn’t kill Morgoth outright yet. Weren’t they to cast him through the Door of Night, beyond the Walls of the World, into the Timeless Void? What if he…”

“Elen, you are the one with the Gift of Foreseeing and I am not. If the Enemy truly escaped, do you think the Valar would sit still to let him destroy the last remnant of the light of the two trees?” Elrond chided him.

“I can’t see anything, brother.” Elros said. “It’s as if my vision is fogged deliberately.”

He was listening to the twins’ conversation, not saying anything himself. He dozed off, absentminded, trying to grasp something that had been lost entirely and left a gap that couldn't help but made him feel strange.

“Atya,” Elrond called out once, breaking his reverie. “We want to go a bit further than before to try to find atto. Do you want to come with us or wait here?”

“You both are going?”

“Hmm.” Elros nodded.

“I will come with you then. It won’t do any good to separate here.”

Elrond stood up. “I will leave something for atto here then. So that he won’t be concerned if he comes back.”

When they set out, the sky was still void of any stars that they could identify although a few more had risen already though they noticed not.

 

His hand — his right hand that got burned to char by the silmaril — was fully healed. It wasn’t any healed when they first arrived in this strange place.

Maglor has been walking for hours. He knew, at this point, that the sun wouldn't rise anytime soon. How did he know? Cause he too could see the strange gold and blue light respectively at the south-western and north-western horizon. Considering the golden light seemed to be closer, he would say that they had ended up somewhere south of the Great Lake and the island Almaren. Before the permanent marring of Arda and during the Spring of Arda. Good, that meant the Enemy was nowhere near.

But what to do now?

He hoped it wasn’t anytime around when the lamps were thrown down but he couldn’t be sure. All the records of these days came from the memories and tales of his Maiar friends whose own perception of time…were odd to say the least.

Probably he shouldn’t wander around so far but return to the cave. Okay, he will, he thought and turned around only for a sudden feeling of coldness engulfing his whole being. Like a cold breeze from a lake but instead of being refreshing it was icy-cold, freezing.

Reveal who you are, stranger. Roared inside his head, vibrating. Maglor didn’t dare to move. Just an elf. He answered. A child of Eru.

No child of Eru is yet to walk on Arda. The nudge came. A lie, a creature created by Melkor you are then. Tell me, stranger, did he make you before he flew out of the Ëa?

Created? Me? Maglor scoffed, turning a bit. I would rather die than fall into Morgoth’s hand!

Dark Enemy you call him. It was just a statement.

Maglor turned around, looking straight into the face of the huntsman. Lord Arǭmēz. He greeted the vala.

You know me. And yet I don’t and I can’t enter your mind either. The huntsman said.

That I am not sure why. Maglor said, truthfully. Strange is the way of Allfather that He sent us here so many years before the Minyar even awakened.

Oromë didn’t say anything for a while, staring into Maglor’s eyes. You will be coming with me. He said at last. To meet all other Ainur.

And what of my companions? Maglor asked. They are waiting for me to return.

Later. Oromë said, finally getting down from Nahar. I will walk along you.

“Whom do you bring, brother?” Nessa enquired when they came across her at the shore of the Great Lake.

“A guest, sister.” Oromë answered.

“Guest you say,” Nessa said, “yet you bring him in a manner of the intelligent beasts of our fallen brethren.”

“He claims to be a child of Eru.” Oromë said. “Now I bring him to meet Mānawenūz and Baharadūz. They would be deciding our guest’s fate.”

“I don’t feel malice from him.” She observed.

“Nor do I,” Oromë agreed, “but I must do my bidding. If I may, sister, we will take our leave.”

After crossing the Great Lake, they had come across a multitude of Ainur still, most stayed at a distance and very few spoke. Maglor had recognized a few Maiar, especially the ones who would be Maiar of Estë and Irmo and Aulë soon. His friends from the past.

Lord, isn’t it unnatural for you to bring me through the direct path and lead me straight to the heart of your dwelling? Maglor asked.

Why would it be unnatural, child of Eru? Oromë said.

You don’t trust me. From how you spoke to Lady Nessa, I am being brought before the Eldar King and Tintallë for you still think I am a twisted being of Morgoth. Maglor truthfully replied.

You understand our tongue. How?

My sire taught me.

And your sire was taught by us?

No. He taught himself.

A great linguistic genius he must be then, Oromë said, to learn a tongue only by hearing when the language isn’t made for the ears of children. How many more people did he teach our tongue to?

None but me and my fourth brother as none of my other brothers are inclined in language. Maglor admitted. And genius he was in many things. In terms of languages he was second only to Master Rúmil among all our kind. But in forge, in the entirety of Arda, only Lord Aulë could be counted before him.

You speak highly of him. Who this Rúmil is I don’t know, but to say he is only second to Aȝūlēz, is a very high praise.

Yet it is true. Greatest of all children he was named in terms of both body and mind.

Oromë hummed and neither spoke any more until they reached the center of the Almanar. At the centre of the island was a mound and above it was a dwelling made of light and air. The structure made Maglor think of Ilmarin but instead of being high on a mountain, it was on a small green mound.

Aþāramaχallām, we call it. Oromë said, Our throne in our appointed dwelling. Mānawenūz and Baharadūz should be in the central hall. They prefer to rest here when Baharadūz isn’t busy with making the stars.

“Oh, they are still making the stars…” Maglor muttered, looking up at the empty sky properly before they stepped into the halls. There were stars but not any that were familiar to him.

What tongue do you speak? Oromë asked. The first time I am listening to something so…mild.

It is named Sindarin by our kind. The tongue spoken by many who didn’t follow the three chieftains back to Valinor.

Your native tongue, then? Oromë didn’t ask what Valinor was.

Maglor shook his head. Not quiet, my lord. Mine is Quenya, spoken in Valinor by all of the Eldalie there. Although there are more tongues like Vanyarin and Telerin, Quenya is what everyone knows.

I suppose we haven’t created this ‘Valinor’ yet.

The land exists, I suppose, Maglor said, but it is yet to become your dwelling and the Pelori mountains are yet to be raised.

You are very sure of this. Have the tales of these years survived till your time?

Everyone knows the tale of the Two Lamps and their subsequent destruction. Arda Marred we call the world since we know of the incident. And your kind calls it– “Aþāraphelūn Dušamanūðān”. He muttered the last part aloud.

“The lamps are to be destroyed…when will it occur, do you know?” Once Maglor had begun speaking, Oromë let go of the ósanwe between the two.

“That I don’t know of. Not quite the exact time. All our loremasters were told by the ayanūz that it occurred after Lord Tulukhastāz fell in deep sleep after the great feast of his and Lady Nereþāššai’s wedding.” Maglor replied.

“Then the disaster is to come soon. The feast ended two years ago and he is still in his slumber.” Oromë said, “It was the right choice to bring you here.”

That it was.” Maglor said, halting before the grand gate. “It is nothing like the Ilmarin yet everything seems familiar at the same time.”

“We don’t like change much.” Oromë opened the gate.

“It is the same for mine.” Maglor said, stepping in beside him.

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Chapter End Notes

Some Valarin words:
Arǭmēz - Oromë
Aȝūlēz - Aulë
Aþāramaχallām - appointed throne (my creation. Aþāra- appointed, maχallām - throne)
Mānawenūz - Manwë
Baharadūz - Varda (my creation)
Aþāraphelūn Dušamanūðān - Arda Marred. Aþāraphelūn - 'appointed' 'dwelling'
Tulukhastāz - Tulkas
Nereþāššai’s - Nessa (my creation)