Chapter 4: The First War
Melkor alighted in a deserted area, some distance away from his fellow Ainur, crushing some of Yavanna's smaller plants beneath his feet.
Culnaur! he called silently. Report to me! What has been happening?
I am coming, my lord, Culnaur replied, distant but strong. There is much to tell. Things do not go as ill for us as it might seem.
Moments later he arrived, in visible form now like the others. When he saw Melkor, his face broke into a cruel grin of approval. "Now that is a form suited to your power, Lord!" Then he became serious. "Why did you not call on us to stand with you?" he asked.
"I did not expect a battle," Melkor answered plainly. "I was caught unprepared by Manwë's reinforcements, and I did not even think of calling for my own. But I will need all of you to fight alongside me now."
Culnaur nodded, pride and loyalty flashing in his red-gold eyes. "There are more of us than there were when you left," he said. "I have recruited many of the Ainur to your service in secret. Some I have instructed not to reveal their allegiance openly - unless you command it, lord - but many more are ready to do battle alongside us."
"Yes, I noticed Thuringwethil," Melkor said. "You have done well to gain her allegiance! Now, where are my Valaraukar?"
"They have gone underground," Culnaur replied. "I sent them to hide until your return. The rest of us, including myself -" he laughed shortly, "have been telling the other Ainur that we are innocent and know nothing of the attack you launched against them."
"Then it is time to reclaim my world!" Melkor said.
Manwë obviously suspected nothing. Standing amidst the deep, lush growth of one of Yavanna's new forests, next to Yavanna herself, he seemed completely relaxed and insufferably pleased with himself.
"You have done beautiful work, Yavanna," he said admiringly. "To think that this is only the beginning of what you have imagined in your song!"
Melkor did not give the Lady of growing things time to answer. He strode into the forest, pushing aside the tall green fans and the brown stalks that grew among them, and crushing to death the small, leafy green plants that covered the ground.
Yavanna cried out as if Melkor had crushed one of her own hands. Manwë stepped lightning-swift to stand before her, though she was nearly his equal in power. "What are you doing back here, Melkor?" he demanded.
"This world is mine, brother!" Melkor retorted in fury. "I am taking it back now, and you will not stop me again!"
Now! he commanded. All of his Valaraukar erupted out of the ground at once a few feet away, leaving a gaping crater with flames shooting out of it fast enough to carry great rocks into the air with them. Yavanna and Manwë stumbled away from the rim, heated air blasting their hair back from their faces.
The Valaraukar circled back down to earth and began tearing up more of the ground, withering and destroying an ever-expanding swath of Yavanna's plants. Melkor fueled the fires of his demons with poison, so that what had once burned clean now poured out thick, choking clouds of roiling black smoke.
"Why, Melkor?" Yavanna cried out from somewhere in the blackness. "Why do you kill my young plants? I have seen in your eyes that you love them."
"Because this is not where I choose that they should grow!" Melkor declared. "This ground must be cleared for my other purposes. You shall make more for me, where I tell you to."
As the earth continued to break apart, Melkor heard Manwë's voice, heavy with grief. "Come, Yavanna! The plants here are lost. We must rally our brethren for a line of defense." There was a brief pause. "Please..."
Melkor laughed in triumph as he heard them leaving. He knew that at the same time, Culnaur was leading a vast force against others of the Ainur, destroying more of their works.
No line of defense will stop me! he warned the departing Manwë. All of you will submit to me, or be destroyed along with all that you have made!
Manwë did not reply. Melkor paid him no more heed, but turned his attention to the Valaraukar. He left half of them to continue expanding the inferno they had created here, and sent the others burrowing in all directions to break through the surface and wreak ruin in other, distant places. Then he went in search of Ulmo.
"No, you must not do it that way!" Melkor commanded. "It is my design that will be followed!" He summoned a mighty geyser of flame and boiling stone, up through the heart of one of Aulë's nearby mountains, and sent it spewing into the air to choke the valley that Ulmo thought should become a lake.
"It is at the design of Ilúvatar that all things shall be ordered, Melkor," Manwë replied. "Not yours!" He sent a roaring wind to push aside Melkor's flames.
"Is this the defense you thought to raise against me?" Melkor asked. "You forget that Ilúvatar taught me all that he taught to the rest of you!" He lifted his right hand, half-closed it in a clawlike, grasping motion, and twisted it in the air. Manwë's wind changed direction, driving Melkor's leaping fires towards another forest of Yavanna's that stood on one edge of the valley.
Ulmo abandoned his attempts to fill the new lake. He raised up most of the churning gray water in a colossal wave and sent it to drench the fern-woods as protection against the fire. Meanwhile, Manwë regained control of his wind and once again began sweeping the flames back towards the hollowed mountain they had erupted from.
Culnaur! Melkor called, knowing his lieutenant was nearby. Destroy this lake for me! He smiled grimly. I have a forest to kill.
Turning to face squarely towards the now-soaked forest, Melkor stretched out both of his hands towards it. "Yavanna will pay the price for your arrogance, Ulmo!" Summoning a cold hatred from deep within his heart, Melkor began to pour another aspect of his power towards the primeval plants.
Culnaur quickly surveyed the scene as he strode over the rim of the contested lake. Ulmo seemed completely engaged in trying to protect Yavanna's forest against Melkor's attack. Yavanna herself was not visible, but the vigorous green of her plants, which seemed almost to be growing taller and stronger as he watched, made him suspect that she was standing somewhere among them.
Catching sight of the rivers of flame pouring into the valley, he smiled. Manwë, his face at once furious and determined, was using his winds to blow the fires back towards the mountain that Melkor had torn them from - but the wind could move only the flames themselves. The liquid, seething stone underneath continued to flow unopposed towards the water in the lowest part of the valley.
This will be my attack, he thought. Deprived of Melkor's attention, the molten stone was beginning to cool slightly, forming a thin, gray crust. Now, standing directly in the lava's path, Culnaur willed it to burn hotter.
The stone crust broke apart, the fragments melting into spatters of liquid orange as they flew. The released lava flowed swiftly forward, parting to swirl around Culnaur until it surrounded him, reaching as high as his waist. Unharmed by the fires of his own power, Culnaur laughed aloud for sheer delight.
Suddenly an onrushing wall of water came gushing over the far rim of the valley. Culnaur stared in surprise for a few seconds until he saw Ossë, the servant of Ulmo, literally riding the wave as it approached.
"Move aside, Culnaur!" Ossë shouted in unbridled fury. "You have no right!"
"What right do you have to oppose Melkor?" Culnaur retorted. "You cannot defeat him!"
"Maybe," Ossë growled. "But I can certainly defeat you!"
As Ossë and his torrent of water drew near, Culnaur summoned more lava from the volcano that Melkor had created. It flowed freely in answer to his will, the hottest parts glowing exactly the same blazing shade of red-tinged gold as Culnaur's own eyes.
Ossë's wave crashed headlong into the leading edge of the lava. Great clouds of steam went up from the meeting of water and molten stone, billowing up to match the tops of Yavanna's treelike ferns on the valley's rim far above. Vast amounts of water were consumed in an instant, but at the same time much of the lava was cooled again, solidifying as it had done before.
Struggling against the surprising power of Ossë, Culnaur poured more heat into the lava, fueling it with his own heart's fire. Ossë, snarling, stood in the middle of an ever-widening river, drawn up from the distant ocean by the power of his furious will. Second by second, the waves and the fires tore at each other.
Slowly, inevitably, Culnaur won. Gradually his lava filled the valley, cooling as it flowed into the water, but always with more behind it to break through or flow across the surface of the newly hardened stone. Finally, though he had fought valiantly, Ossë had no choice but to turn and leave the seething valley with what remained of his river of seawater.
As the battle between Culnaur and Ossë raged behind him, Melkor focused all of his attention on Yavanna's dripping green forest. Attacking the very water that Ulmo had sent to protect the plants, Melkor drew upon the bone-chilling cold of his own envy and froze the water in reality as he had done, with song alone, in the Great Music.
Yavanna's anguished cry of "No!" could be heard from somewhere deep within the forest. Melkor laughed, a harsher, crueler sound than the world of Arda had yet heard. As he watched, a thick, transparent layer of ice formed over each of Yavanna's plants, individually covering each one of their delicate fronds. The effect was beautiful, like a forest of living jewels, and at the same time it created a scene of shocking destruction. Melkor felt a rush of fierce pride for its creation, short-lived though he knew this doomed forest would be.
Red eyes flaring with triumph, Melkor turned to face the stricken Manwë. "Now let even your Varda stand against me!" he exulted. "No spirit in Arda will be able to stop me. I will tear apart all things that you will not give me for my own!"
Many ages later, far to the North, Melkor was wrenching a cold mountain range up from the ground of a verdant plain when he heard a rushing of footfalls coming towards him like a thundering wind. Turning around in anger to see who dared to approach, he saw in the distance a mighty figure that he recognized at once, though he had never seen this spirit in visible form within the World.
Tulkas! Outrage surged up in Melkor's heart, as well as a sudden fear that he struggled angrily to master. Surely he is less powerful than I! Melkor told himself fiercely, but the sheer speed of Tulkas' approach woke a deep fright that would not be silenced.
"Rebel!" Tulkas shouted in a deep, booming voice, his face filled with rage like a mighty stormcloud. "You have been hurting our brothers and sisters! Do not think you will get away with it!"
Despite his fear, Melkor drew himself up and stood boldly, facing down Tulkas with his new mountain range behind him. "Take care who you challenge!" he shouted back, allowing no trace of fear into either his face or his voice. "I am the greatest of the Ainur!"
Tulkas laughed, mirth suddenly flooding his features. "That you may be!" he said, now very near to where Melkor stood. "But I will still defeat you, Melkor!" He laughed again.
The laughter stabbed Melkor to his heart. How could he, the incomparable Melkor, be the target of ridicule from anyone? It was too much to bear.
"Now begone!" Tulkas thundered, less than a dozen strides away. "Or I will crush you as you have crushed the things our brothers and sisters love!"
Almost before he realized it, Melkor turned around and fled. Straight up the sides of his new Iron Mountains he ran, springing from their peaks into the same Void that Varda had driven him to long before.
Culnaur! he shouted with his mind, keeping hold of his anger and determination in spite of the choking shame he felt. Send Thuringwethil to me.