Solitude by Erulisse

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

The slightest of breezes tickled my awareness into an alert status. I straightened slightly, my body rendered almost immobile by Angainor, and my featureless metal mask facing forward. My brother had returned. Námo began to speak; mind-to-mind as always, picking up from our previous discussion an incalculable number of turns earlier.

 

*Why did you murder the Children?* Námo asked.

 

*I did not intend to murder. Truly. I did not. I looked at the Children sent by Eru in fulfillment of the Song, with amazement and great joy.*

 

*Joy?*

 

*Yes, joy. When I saw those shining beings scattered across the sands of Cuiviénen's broad beach, I marveled. Like lustrous pearls, they almost glowed in the starlight. I rejoiced when I realized that I was the first to see Eru’s promise fulfilled.*

 

Námo hissed in the darkness, and then silence fell once more.  

 

I continued, desperate to keep him there as long as possible. *You scoff. You believe jealousy and a zeal for destruction motivated my actions. You are wrong. We each have a role to play in Arda. My part in our Father's Song is as valid as your own, Watcher of the Dead.*

 

I took another moment, pushing my anger aside. The long years of solitude seemed immeasurable and I needed these rare conversations. Although I was already losing patience with my brother, I cherished his rare visits. The Ages were turning slowly and each Turn brought me closer to losing the small thread of sanity to which I still clung.

 

I existed in darkness unbroken. I recognized Námo's presence by the change in the air where he stood and the spark of his mind as we conversed. I sat in an immovable chair - bound, chained, contained, immobilized and hooded - kept from any exterior stimulation. Even my fingers were encased, each in a sheath of metal separating it from the others. Aulë has a wicked sense of justice. Angered by my actions, the methods of my imprisonment became the anvil upon which he wrought his despair.

 

I cannot move, see no light and hear no sound. I have nothing but my own thoughts to accompany me on my long slide into total madness. Time does not exist behind the metal mask I wear. My brothers and sisters could not have planned a more malicious punishment since there is not, nor ever will be, any escape from my punishment through any means except by their pardon. Even death cannot save me because as a creator of this world, I cannot die within it. Námo is the only one who enters my chamber. He has patience, standing immobile and watching me for as long as he deems necessary. It seems to me he has always held himself apart from the rest of us, but then, I've been accused of doing the same.

 

I catch up with my thoughts once more. *No, I did not intend to murder but I was curious about these new creatures. I needed to discover their boundaries - pain, pleasure, heat, cold, and other aspects. Therefore, I experimented. Eru constructed the Song, but each of us only sang our own part. We knew nothing of the whole of his Great Plan. Each of us has learned more as we explored and experimented.

 

*In Middle Earth I discovered how to manipulate death and decay. After all, death allows rebirth through other forms. Fish, when buried in the earth cause it to be richer and bear stronger plants, which then provide better food for the animals. The cycle of life and death exists only on Arda. It fascinates me.

 

*You ask why did I kill, maim and torture these new beings. Yes, I brought them death in many forms. I tasted their bodies and their blood and reveled in the salty tang that possessed my throat. I grasped their warm internal organs slipping them through my fingers and passing them from one hand to the other; so slimy and sensuous. Their terror fed the measure of my Song. Their screams were my music, their torment, my happiness. Their deaths brought me great joy.*

 

*Joy,* thought Námo once again. He moved toward the doorway, preparing to leave.

 

Embittered, I cried out. *Leave me, little brother. Abandon me to my solitude and my memories. I expect no compassion, no understanding for my part in Arda’s Song. Yet know this - I have acted as I was made.*

 

Solitude pressed around me once more. As the door closed behind Námo, I laughed hysterically while I remembered joy in the days long before I had been chained to my chair in the stygian cell.