Son of Fëanor

"Many have seen beyond my thought, and that too is part of my design. If you wish to enter Ea, you may do so, but you must know that what you do will be subject to time; you will not be able to undo it. What you build will change, and what you destroy will leave scars," said Eru Iluvatar. His voice, though serene, resounded with an authority that the Ainur could not ignore. It was the first time He had spoken since the Song of Creation.

-Varda-

Varda, one of the greatest Valier, stood at the highest point of the inhospitable tower of Taniquetil, the grandest in all Aman, where she dwelled with her partner Manwë.

Very few were fortunate enough to set foot in such a splendid palace. Among them was an elf, small in her eyes yet as beautiful as if he had been created and molded by Eru Himself. He was the most beautiful, even among the Valar, an elf of exceptional skill and gentleness, overshadowed only by his insatiable desire to learn.

Lost in the glorious view of what had been crafted through their resounding voices in the Song of Creation, the memory of Eru's first words still echoed within her. "Why?" she asked herself in a melancholic tone that revealed her boundless sorrow. "Was the rebellion of such beautiful creations also destined to happen?" Her voice was a plea for an answer. Though she was a Vala, one of Eru Iluvatar's first creations and among those closest to His grace, she could not find answers to her questions.

"Even that child, so precious and pure, will he too be stained by the darkness that covers his people?" she whispered to herself, sadness coursing through her being. It was already too late when they realized that her brother Melkor was no longer bound to the Song of Creation.

He was now a being of infinite darkness, the embodiment of evil. They had defeated and chained him once, hoping he would reclaim his place among them. Oh, how naïve they had been! From the very beginning of creation, from Eru Iluvatar's first word, Melkor had shown he would not be like them.

"All that we sing belongs to us. Why not descend and claim it?" she recalled Melkor's words, his laughter echoing like a void.

"Nothing belongs to us," Ulmo had replied. "If we go, it will be to protect, to care, not to possess."

"To care, to belong, there is little difference. How can something that essentially depends on your care for its survival not belong to you?" Melkor had countered, his discordant voice filled with malice and mockery.

Though subtle, that had been the first conflict, unnoticed behind sweet words and a generous demeanor. It was all a facade while they shaped the Earth. Manwë blew the winds, dispersing the mist; Ulmo, distant and solitary like the sea, created the first oceans; Aulë, with his mighty hammer, molded the land; Yavanna, with her splendid harmony, gave life to plants and trees; and she, Varda, lit the skies, while others brought order for those yet to be born.

"What you destroy will leave scars." Varda recalled this with particular attention. How great was Eru! His reasoning had now come to fruition. The destruction caused by the first war against her brother Melkor had led to the present. The Noldor elves were abandoning Valinor, their continent Aman, their home, in pursuit of vengeance and death against Melkor.

He had cut down and extinguished the light of the sacred trees Telperion and Laurelin, murdered Finwë, and stolen the precious gems that still held the radiance and splendor of the now-lost trees.

Amid her contemplation, she saw him. That child, so dear to her, walked with a downcast spirit. Even from such a distance, his sadness was evident in his gait. His hair, as dark as the night itself, danced gently in the winds, as if they sought to console him with their touch. She knew why he was here. With a delicate motion of her beautiful hand, a blinding light shone. Her figure now stood at the entrance of her and Manwë's dwelling.

"What brings you here, my little star?" she asked with the grace and warmth of a mother. It would not be a lie to say she treated him as if he were her child. The soft glow of Eru's greatness illuminated Alarion soul, a brilliance that outshone even the brightest stars she had created. She felt a deep connection with the boy.

She watched as her beloved star bowed before her, as he always did, no matter how many times she reminded him it was unnecessary. The boy always showed her respect and admiration, earning the approval and affection of all the Valar.

"I have come to bid you farewell, great Varda," he said with a bow, his voice carrying melancholy and reluctance. "I am about to journey with my father," he continued, his divine visage marred by a sorrowful expression.

"Why, my little star?" she asked gently, a flicker of guilt clinging to her question. "Why not stay with us?" she concluded, her divine face now crestfallen. She considered him her child, her sweet little boy. How could she not grieve when her son said he would leave her side?

Those words from Varda felt like daggers piercing his already hesitant heart. He didn't want to leave this place; he didn't want to part from such a glorious land where happiness alone could be found. Yet, he had to follow his father. A wild impulse for adventure stirred in the most hidden corner of his subconscious. He was a humble reincarnated soul who had gradually adapted to this new land that he once considered fiction.

He didn't remember who his parents had been before arriving here, a fact that made it easier to grow attached to his new parents, Fëanor and Nerdanel. The love they gave him made him cherish and love them as a true family.

Seeing Varda's divine face melancholic over his departure tightened his heart. Like his mother Nerdanel, Varda had filled him with unconditional love and affection, becoming a second mother to him.

The reluctance to leave this place and separate from the Valar, who had given him so much love, gnawed at him. But he had to follow his father. He wanted to explore this world, even though he didn't know what timeline he was in. That didn't matter; he wanted to discover what had happened before what he once saw in the movies. What new events would unfold by following his father? He didn't know, but he was excited about it.

"I must follow my father. Something inside me tells me that only I will prevent my family from falling into the shadow of darkness Morgoth brought upon us," he said. As disconcerting as it was, something told him he would be the sole salvation for his family.

He didn't fully understand it, but the wisdom imparted by his mother and Mandos allowed him not to doubt that feeling.

Those words lightened Varda's divine face. Her dark hair, like the night, shimmered with tiny stellar glimmers. With her soft and delicate hand, she lifted Ilarion bowed head. Her once immense stature had diminished, allowing her to gently caress the delicate face of her little star. She understood the reason for his departure.

"Now, my little star is about to become the radiant light that will guide his people away from the dark shadow that plagues them," she said, as if prophesying an uncertain future.

From her divine garment, she gently tore a piece of fabric from her sleeve. Ilarion astonishment, the fabric grew into a silver cloak, where soft trails like shooting stars occasionally passed through its expanse.

Tenderly, she extended the now complete cloak, draping it over him from neck to knees, wrapping his body in a warm and comforting embrace. "This is my gift to you, my little star," said Varda, offering a warm smile, one she often gave him during each visit.

"When you feel lost, I will be there for you. The stars will always guide you, my little star. No matter what darkness you traverse, my warm love will always accompany you," she concluded, moving to stand face to face with Ilarion. With a gesture reserved only for her husband Manwë, she leaned forward and bid him farewell with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Go, my little star. You will always be welcome in these lands, which are your home," she said, like a mother sending her child off into the adventure of life.

Knowing that his adoptive mother, whom he saw in Varda, was not angry about his decision to leave Aman, an invisible weight lifted from his body. Now, he could depart with greater peace. With a radiant smile, as brilliant as a quasar, he allowed himself to take in Varda's full splendor.

"Then I will depart, Lady Varda," he said, as he wrapped himself in the warm fabric of Varda's divine cloak, a gift no other being would receive, proof of how special Ilarion was.

With everything said, he turned and headed toward his abode, where his brothers were waiting. Along the way, he planned to bid farewell to Tulkas and the other Valar who had shown him so much love. Despite his father's hatred for the Valar, he, being the kind and pure-hearted person he was, had not been implicated in his father's curses. Without delay, he set out to bid farewell to his most cherished individuals.

An Elf of free will, no promises or oaths would bind him. His destiny was written only by himself, a blessing granted to him by Eru through divine decree. Now, with that kiss, a blessing from the greatest and most powerful of the Valier, his path would be illuminated, guiding him when answers eluded him.

***

Advance chapter in "[email protected]/Mrnevercry"