4) The Astrologer – Year of the Sun, 60 Quellë (Fading)
Ardana
The full Moon shined over the far north of Middle Earth, a bright light in the clear night sky, illuminating a balcony where two elves stood, deep in conversation. Ash, mixed with snow, fell on the stone floor and a distant orange glow cast eerie shadows. One elf, a woman with long black hair, framing a pale face of unearthly beauty and the other, a man with deeply tanned skin and piercing silver eyes. The woman bent her face down into the palm of her hand as if thinking. She shook her head over and over as the man spoke.
She looked up at the Moon and sneered, the silver orb blotting out the lights of her beloved stars. Then, she thought upon what the man had told her. The plan was insane, likely impossible. The sheer audacity of the idea made Ardana's head spin. But still, it could destroy the hated Sun and Moon and let her beloved stars shine as the brightest objects in the heavens once more. How could Varda, the Vala of the stars, allow such a travesty to blot out her own creations? How could her teacher betray her like this? Tall, slender and elegant, Ardana turned gracefully, her gown glittering like the stars in the night sky. Then, his words ran through her head as she curled a finger through her jet-black hair. The Dark Lord had all of the answers. Only he could make things right. He was the chosen one to lead the world. She could not disappoint him. She pointed a finger at her companion. "Morthaur, we cannot bring this to Morgoth unless we know it will work. I don't want to be made a fool of," she said impatiently, her chin tilted up with a sense of arrogance often reserved for the most powerful of the Noldor. Her black eyes glared at Morthaur, eyes that were like void.
Morthaur, a tall Noldo of average build, put his fingers over his lips. "Well, I cannot guarantee anything, my lady. But I will say that this is our best chance to return the stars to their proper place in the heavens." He shifted uncomfortably in his tan coveralls, which were covered in the soot of his experiments. He was a bookish fellow, always obsessed with research and knowledge.
"Cannot guarantee? Cannot guarantee? You told me that this would work," Ardana practically spat. Her normally serene face twisted in sudden anger, her full lips curled and her large eyes narrowed. "We cannot go to our lord without some faith that this will ensure his dominion over all things, seen and unseen. Do you not see the sky? Do you not see how this…this Sun and Moon mar Varda's glorious creations? How can I, as an astrologer, bear such an insult," she asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
Morthaur stepped back as if stung. He took a breath and wiped his sooty hands on his coveralls. "Ardana, as you know, I scoured the wastes where our lord fought against the spider. Come, let me show you the treasures that I found. I have been working on them all night. I assure you, Ardana, this is our best chance to return the stars to their rightful place in the heavens." He motioned for the lady to follow him and began walking to his laboratory. As he strode past two women standing at the balcony entrance, he ushered them into the Fortress of Angband. "Fëatur, Yavëkamba, you're with us. I will show you all the power of which I speak."
The three women followed Morthaur deeper into Angband until they came to a large hall, filled with strange contraptions and odd bits of strange treasure. Ardana walked in and crossed her arms, an expression of impatience written on her face. "How long will this take, Morthaur? The lord is waiting," she said, looking down her delicate nose.
Morthaur put the palms of his hands out as if to placate her. He motioned to Yavëkamba, a slender Noldo with long, dark brown hair, wearing deep blue robes. "I want you nearby. This will be dangerous, and I may need your healing powers." She nodded without expression and moved closer to him. He pointed to the other woman. "Fëatur, stand next to me. I will need your power to harness the force of the gem." The woman snorted and pursed her lips, but she moved next to Morthaur. He stared at her face for a moment and narrowed his brows, studying her. "Your golden hair, soft features and thin lips remind me of a dead man. Ahhh, that's it. You look exactly like your brother. Your late twin brother. I never noticed that before. Remarkable," he said and reached out to touch her face. Fëatur slapped his hand away with a growl but said nothing.
Ardana made a chopping motion with her hands. "Enough. The lord promised us dominion over the land and sky if we can deliver. I long to see my beloved stars again and soon." Her black eyes blazed like smoldering coals.
"And we will have it, lady," Morthaur answered. He put his palm out towards a silver box and then nodded to Fëatur. "Now," he commanded, and she did the same. Slowly, the box opened and lifted off of a glass cube. Inside, something pulsated with dark energy, seeming to devour the light around it. "Behold! One of Fëanor's gems, consumed and belched out by the demon spider. Instead of radiating light, it annihilates it. It is as if the void were contained within."
Intrigued, Ardana moved forward, but Yavëkamba held her back. "No, my lady, it is too dangerous," the healer said.
Ardana shrugged off the healer's hand. The astrologer's face filled with wonder. "Morthaur, I did not believe you when you said you had this. I…I apologize. Pray, continue."
The sides of the glass cube fell away, and the gem was exposed to air. The room grew cold and dark, and frost accumulated on the table beneath the gem. Morthaur shivered. "I need your power to contain this, Fëatur," he said, his voice straining with effort.
"Do not worry," Fëatur answered, her voice as cold as the table. Still, her tanned face was twisted with effort, and she clenched her jaw.
Morthaur grunted and huffed a breath out. "I…I scoured the wastes and found a dozen of these gems before the sons of Fëanor arrived to search for the Silmarils. Two, I spent in my experiments before I found the answer. This should be the proof of my concept." Raising their hands, he and Fëatur made the gem rise above the table. He extended his other hand, and a small light glowed, soon to grow into the semblance of the sun, blazing with fire. "This…this represents the hated sun, the vessel of the hated Maia Arien." Breathing heavily, the two floated the dark gem towards the light. "Now, Yavëkamba. Do it!"
The healer pulled a long dagger, known as a kynac in the south, that shimmered with a golden hue. She stepped forward and made a tiny slice on the palm of Morthaur's hand. Blood dripped onto the stone floor. For a moment, the pool of blood sat there, but then flew into the dark gem, which pulsated and made sounds that chilled the hearts of all nearby.
With an unearthly howl that made Ardana's skin crawl, black, oily tendrils snaked towards the small sun and enveloped it with a deathly embrace, pulling it into the void of the gem itself. Then, the light was gone. The gem shriveled up and fell back upon the table with a heavy thud, now a lifeless husk. "This is but a demonstration," Morthaur said as sweat flowed into his eyes and mouth. He wiped his brow with a sooty forearm. "But I bring you the destruction of the Sun and Moon and clear skies filled only with the light of the stars."
Ardana gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. "You…you were right. But how…how will this destroy such great lights in the heavens?" Though amazed, she was not entirely convinced. "What you showed me is just a tiny lab experiment."
Morthaur let out a long breath. "I have divined a solution. I used my blood, the blood of a mere elf. We must use blood that is much more powerful, much more potent. We must use the blood of a Vala…a sacrifice. Only the life of one so powerful can be the catalyst for the gems to bring down the Sun and Moon."
"What?" Ardana said in horror, her mouth falling open. "What you propose is treason! You cannot be serious. We cannot sacrifice the Dark Lord!" she added menacingly.
A sly grin curled over Morthaur's lips. "Not the Dark Lord, but the Dark Lord's child."
Ardana recoiled, her mind racing. Shock and fury filled her heart. "Are you mad? There is no child of the Dark Lord."
"Not yet."
Yavëkamba took a sharp inhale, and she pushed her lips together in a sour way. "This is madness. We are playing with things that are not meant to be." She looked at the astrologer and shifted uncomfortably, her nostrils flared with disgust.
Ardana shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. "And just who do you propose to bear the Dark Lord's child?"
Morthaur splayed his sooty hands outward and gave a broad grin. "Why, it should be you, my lady."
Ardana's first instinct was to throttle him and channel the power of the stars to smite him for such blasphemy. But then, she turned away and put her hand on her chin to consider his words. "Why? Why do we need such a child?" The shimmer in her gown of stars flashed as if to signal her mood.
Morthaur's grin became a full-fledged toothy smile. "You know the power of blood. The essence contained within can do many things to create and destroy. Imagine now, the power of Vala blood. We take the life essence of this child and infuse it into the gems of darkness and the power will be unimaginable. I consulted with Morthrog, the Dark Lord's seer, and he has seen the darkness come to pass."
"If what you say is true…we could actually do this," Ardana said, imagining the return to the eons before the Sun and Moon where only Varda's stars existed in the heavens. "Very well. I believe in this course. We should begin preparation right away." She mused for a moment how it would be to bear the Dark Lord's child. She imagined a warm, loving encounter with the godlike being that she had admired for so long. His words to her in Valinor were always sweet and encouraging and had filled her soul. Her first teacher, Varda, was now just a distant memory.
"How could you sacrifice your own child?" Yavëkamba asked with a clear and powerful voice, full of concern. Normally reserved, the healer seemed to find strength. "Morgoth promised us a fair and just world under his strength. He showed us the evil of Valinor, showed us the corruption of how all elves were held in their cages. How we had no will of our own. Having left Valinor, now we are free. We are the masters of our own destiny in an open land. If we do this, are we not as evil as the Valar we left behind?"
Ardana waved her hand dismissively. "You always were a naïve one. The road to victory is paved in blood and we have to show strength if we are to take this land for our own. Sacrifices must be made if our hard-earned freedom is threatened. We were cheated. We were persecuted. Valinor was rigged against us. You pledged yourself to the king and I once before. I hold you to that promise."
Yavëkamba turned away for a moment and then bowed her head in surrender, her face becoming expressionless again. "Yes, my lady." She seemed sad and shrunken now.
Ardana raised her chin, and her black eyes seemed to glow. "Very well. Let us go and present our plan to the Dark Lord." She felt a renewed sense of confidence. The sky would only be full of stars once again. Varda would thank her. All would be forgiven and they would reign supreme in this new land.
The four marched quickly with a purpose to the grand throne room of Morgoth. They entered the magnificent hall, filled with tall, granite pillars around a massive throne of iron. Upon it sat the Dark Lord with a crown of enchanted, iridescent metal. Three shimmering jewels were mounted upon the crown, casting Morgoth in an unearthly light, giving his perfect face a sinister appearance even amid its perfect symmetry and proportion. To his right stood a monstrous balrog, taller and more menacing than any of the Dark Lord's demons. This was Gothmog, the lord of the balrogs, the slayer of mighty Fëanor. His eyes were flame, and his horns sharper than spears. To Morgoth's left stood another balrog, smaller, but shrouded in darkness with a smoldering fire covering its body. Even this lesser demon stood over twice as tall as Morthaur.
As the four approached, Morgoth seemed lost in thought, such was the godlike mind of a Vala. They stood for a minute beneath Gothmog's glare before the Dark Lord took notice of them. Fear and pride intermingled in Ardana's heart, and she trembled for a moment before she could speak. A massive figure, his voice boomed like thunder when he spoke.
"Have you come before me with success or failure for the task that I gave you? How are we to defeat the evil in our land, cleanse it and establish our dominion? I told you that we could return the heavens to their state of beauty," he said and then looked down his strong, straight nose at them.
Ardana closed her eyes for a second, but then looked up into Morgoth's perfect, pale face of perfect symmetry and proportion. "My lord. Morthaur recovered gems of great power that Ungoliant belched forth from her ravenous maw. These gems hold the key. All we need, my lord…all we need is the blood of your child to unleash their essence to bring down the hated vessels and return the sky to the magnificence of the stars."
He shifted and put a closed fist to his lips. "And how do we create this child…my child. And your intention is to sacrifice my child?"
The astrologer nodded. "Yes, my lord. I will bear your child and sacrifice it for your glory," she said, her voice growing stronger. Nearby, Yavëkamba closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
Morgoth extended his other hand and closed it into a fist, a slow smile forming over his mouth. "Yes. I like it. It is fitting that you bear and shed the blood of my child. And together, we will see the end of the Valar's folly. Now away. I am preparing my armies for the final battle. Legions of orcs and demons will overrun the elves and cast them back into the sea. Only I can fix this. Then, we will complete our task. Return to the balcony and witness my might. Await my command."
The four bowed and backed away and then turned to walk back to the balcony. They were accompanied by the smaller balrog. Continuing down the hallway, they noticed the balrog shrinking until it was only a head and half above Morthaur's height. It's horns and wings were gone and its face, that was of a raging bull, had diminished to become the normal face of a bald man with shiny red skin and the darkest black eyes. Before the group could speak, it said, "I am Morfuin, a demon of might. The master has tasked me to join your cause. I am aware of the job that you must do. You would be wise to accept," he continued in a voice without emotion.
"You are most welcome. The Dark Lord had the foresight to have you accompany us," Ardana said with approval. They walked out upon the balcony, which had been quiet only two hours before, but was now filled with the din of commands, boots marching on stone and the growls and howls of wargs. Ardana looked down from the balcony, which sat hundreds of feet above the iron gates and saw a line of troops snaking ten miles ahead, uninterrupted. The war machine of Morgoth had been released. Retribution was at hand.
"None dare stand before them," Fëatur said with a rare tone of pleasure. "I look forward to pillaging the bodies for treasures and mutilating the corpses before they rot in the sun. This would please the Dark Lord," she said, her delicate features now almost girlish in her glee.
Morfuin inhaled deeply and he began to grow again, nearly doubling in size. His feet became cloven hooves, his back curved, growing sharp spines, horns erupted from his forehead, curling like those of a bull and his eyes flashed into fire. His black body smoldered with sparks and dull flames and, in his right hand, a sword grew that was more like a cleaver. The weapon burst into fire and with his left hand, a multithonged whip emerged and crackled with flame. With a roar, Morfuin cracked his whip across the sky, sending sparks and burning cinders into the air. "Tonight, we end the elves," he said in a voice twisted in an inhuman throat and carried forth by fire.