It was too bright, that was what Melkor noticed first. It hurt his eyes and he could not see. Then he heard his brother's voice. "See the light, Melkor?" Manwë asked. "Doesn't it look beautiful? Doesn't it make you want to do good?"
'No,' Melkor wanted to say. "I can't see the light. Where are we, brother?' But all that came out of his mouth was a distressed groan. Melkor tried to find his words, but his mind felt foggy.
"Perhaps he needs a drink," suggested Varda. "He was locked away for a long time." Soon Melkor felt a cup pressed to his mouth and he gratefully sipped the liquid inside. He gave a sigh of relief when he was finished, he had found a few words and knew he could communicate on some level.
"Are you ready to fix the mess you made, brother?" Manwë asked in a hopeful tone. "What… Do you…Mean?" Melkor rasped out unsteadily. "Where… Are we? Is it… Time for the Second Music?"
"What?" Manwë gasped in alarm. "We are in Arda brother. Don't you recognize it?" Melkor shook his head innocently.
"No," he moaned miserably. "I… Can't see. Eyes… they hurt, Manwë." His brother gasped in disbelief. How could a Vala lose their sense of sight?
"I'll summon Estë." Manwë said, just in case his brother was telling the truth. "Can you really not see?" Melkor again shook his head.
Just then Estë, the healer Vala appeared. She immediately sensed Melkor could not see and gasped in shock. "What happened?" She demanded as she gently healed Melkor. As his brother explained, Melkor looked at his surroundings in amazed fascination.
They were in a meadow filled with flowers and bright green grass. Melkor gasped in wonder at a pretty yellow flower and stroked its petals gently. They were very soft and fragile. "What is this?" Melkor asked, transfixed on the delicate beauty of the flora.
"That is called a buttercup," Manwë explained in confusion. "It'a a type of flower. Yavana created it." "It's pretty." Melkor said, awed by the thought one of his own kind could make something like this.
Estë looked at Melkor sharply, watching as he carefully played with the flower. Something about it reminded her of baby elves and their innocent fascination of anything new. Her suspicions fulfilled, she turned to Manwë and told him. "Melkor has lost his mind." Manwë startled and blurted out.
"But the evil is no longer in him. I thought he changed." Estë shook her head. "It is true he has no more guilt than he did when he was first created. But that is because he has lost his memories of ever doing wrong. He is like a child."
Manwë couldn't believe it. His elder brother, acting like a child! All at once, a bunny bounded over to the buttercup. And, before Melkor could ask what it was, it ate the flower and hopped away. Melkor was inconsolable.
He began sobbing uncontrollably, wailing at the top of his lungs. "Melkor, calm down!" Manwë tried to soothe. "It will come back soon." But Melkor continued to wail and shriek.
"Dear me," Estë exclaimed over the noise. "He's worse than Yavana when she found out the children would need to cut some of her trees down!" "It was so pretty!" Melkor wailed. "And now it's gone!"
"But it will grow back soon," Estë soothed softly. "And it will be even prettier than before. You can play with it again then, and be even happier." Melkor began to calm down and Manwë asked Estë through their mental link if he should follow through with the rest of the plan.
She said it could work if they kept close tabs on Melkor. Then she left, leaving Manwë and Melkor alone. Manwë looked at his brother helplessly as Melkor began to admire a bird. "What is that?" He asked in amazement.
Manwë shuddered, to think that the mightiest of the Ainur could become this! "It is called a dove," he told his brother. "I created it. Come now, let us be going." "Where are we going?" "To a friend's house."