Cinders

by Our Pale Companion

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.

I am Fëanor. High King of the Noldor, son of Finwë and Míriel, creator of the Silmarils. I was born under the light of the Trees. I will die under the stars in a darkened world.

I am dying in that darkened world.

I am alive; I craft the Jewels.

I am dead; my body burned to cinders with the fury of my soul.

I am alive; I swear vengeance upon any who would keep the Jewels from me.

My father dies, cut down by the blade of the Black Foe.

My father lives, High King of the Noldor.

No. I am the High King of the Noldor.

Gil-Galad is the High King of the Noldor.

My father dies.

My father lives.

My sons live. My sons die, doomed by my Oath. I see them fall in battle, driven to madness, cast themselves into the fires of the earth.

I am long dead. I am just born. I will live. I have died.

I will never die. I will never live.

I am dying in that darkened world.

The Trees stand and shine. A great Empire of Men rises in the sea. A Man and his Elven love wrest a Silmaril from Morgoth's grasp. A Dark Lord forges a Ring of Power. The Valar break Beleriand. A Man and his Elven love stand in defiance of the Lord of the Ring. A Hobbit tells riddles in darkness. Ancalagon lies broken atop Thangorodrim. The world ends. The world begins anew.

My world is ending.

I am alive, yet not alive. I am dead, but death can only follow life, which I have never had. Which I will never have.

My world is ending.

Time is wounded. It bleeds into itself. Ages that ought never have touched die arm-in-arm. Aragorn rules Númenor. Sauron dwells in Angband. Túrin Turambar slays the great worm Smaug. Names I should not know, must not know. They are my present, my future, my past and my never.

My world is ending.

I am dying in that darkened world.

I can never live. I can never die.

Eru Ilúvatar, the Maker, has perished in fire, as I will perish in fire. As I will never perish. The Music of the Ainur has ended. The Music of the Ainur will never begin.

His works will never come to pass. His works have already come to pass. His works live and breathe. His works are dying.

I am dying in this darkened world.

I have doomed my sons.

I will never doom my sons.

My world is ending.

My world never was.

I am dying in this darkened world.

I am dead.

My body burned to cinders with the fury of my soul.

In loving memory of 2nd Lieut. J.R.R. Tolkien, Lancashire Fusiliers

3rd January 1892 - 28th September 1916