Of the Taurethar, the Great Ones and the Powers of Aeriador Page 1

The Shaping of Aeriador

In the beginning, Aeriador was not, save in the thought of Aerendyl, who was mighty among the Elves. Long he pondered in silence, devising in his heart a realm unspoiled, free of the ruin wrought by Men. In his design the beauty of the Eldar was set as a measure, and mountains he envisioned, and rivers unnumbered, and oceans that rolled beneath unending skies, where the clouds drifted in grace above forests without end.

Yet the nature of Aerendyl was not whole, for within him the seed of evil was sown. In ancient days he had touched the shard of the Abyss, and from thence came to him both power and torment; and in secret he served Pazuzu, the Lord of Portals, the Ruler of Shibaxet. Therefore though his purpose was fair, the shadow of corruption abode in his heart, and it would not be turned aside.

Long did Aerendyl labor with spell and craft, fashioning first a dim demesne, small and uncertain. But he was tireless in will, and with cunning he layered enchantments, and forged devices of strength to bind his work. He raised simulacra, pale and witless, yet steadfast in their service, to aid him. And to his own advantage he wove a chamber where the course of time was bent, that he might toil for ages in the span of years. Thus in patience unending he set hand to the shaping of his realm; and he called it Aeriador.

He wrought the land in its form, and he set in place the heavens about it, and he kindled moons to wander there, and the light to fall upon the world. In these labors he had little aid, yet not none. For Aerendyl, mighty in craft and in the making of gems and enchanted works of power, fashioned an orb of pure crystal, wrought to endure for all ages and designed to contain a flame eternal. Into this vessel Zemira poured her fire, and by her hand it was kindled to burn, an unceasing fire. Then she lifted it high and set it in the firmament above Aeriador, that its radiance might fall forever upon the world below. And Finduilen bent his strength to the ordering of the waters, of seas and rivers, and to the shaping of all that dwell therein. Celeborn kept guard beyond the borders, lest enemies break in unawares. Faeryl held ward within, and Amara stood watch over Aerena, the daughter born of her and Aerendyl.

Thus the world grew, and was arrayed in beauty, and this was the Primordial Age: the age of shaping and of chaos. But the evil of Aerendyl’s heart seeped ever into his work, though at first unseen, as the venom of corruption lies hidden until its hour. In the latter days of that age the wound was made: for Aerendyl, stricken with dread at the darkness within himself, cast forth his power upon the earth. Then the land was rent asunder, and a vast chasm yawned, black and seared as if by the fires of hell. From that wound a passage was laid bare, and it reached unto the Abyss; yet its true peril was hidden for a time.

The rift spread until the Six together withstood it, and only by their might was it stayed. Yet already it stretched a hundred leagues in length, and well-nigh sixteen in breadth, and its depths none could fathom. Thus was the world marred in its making, and the Abyss was given a gate into the heart of Aeriador.

At last Aerendyl brought into his world the first of the Elves, for his desire was that this realm should be their home, and theirs alone. But Finduilen, moved by pity and stirred by compassion for the lesser kindreds, would not see so fair a land withheld. Therefore he brought also into Aeriador the race of Men, and the Dwarves, and the Halflings, that they too might dwell beneath its skies.

Yet Faeryl, the Huntress, who was nearest to Finduilen in spirit and in power, for both loved the free lands and all that dwelt therein, spoke to him in counsel. For knowing his mind she perceived what he purposed, and she said: “Brother, I see whither thy thought is turned, and I do not doubt the truth of thy pity. But heed my words: Aerendyl’s heart is proud, and his will is not lightly set aside. His wrath is swift, and the shadow in him is deep; and if thou dost cross him in this, a rift shall be made between you that none may heal.”

But Finduilen would not be turned, for his compassion was greater than his fear, and thus he fulfilled his intent, though forewarned of the peril.

Then great was the wrath of Aerendyl, for in this act he beheld defiance of his will, and his pride was pierced. In anger he cursed Finduilen, and would have cast him out from the company of the Six, banishing him forever from the Powers of Aeriador. And it is said that in that hour the bonds between them were broken utterly, and the enmity that followed could not again be healed.

Yet Zemira spoke, and her voice was as still waters upon the storm, and her words fell with the weight of mercy. For in his wrath Aerendyl had lifted his hand to cast down Finduilen, to strip from him both name and power, and to hurl him from the fellowship of the Six. Indeed, it is said that his very life hung upon a breath, and that the fire of Aerendyl’s curse was already kindled against him. But Zemira stood between them, as a Queen of the Eldar, and with the calm of her wisdom she stayed the hand of the High King.

Thus Finduilen was spared, and his place among the Powers endured; yet his honor was lessened, and he bore ever after a lower seat among the Six. But his followers clove to him still, and from that day they strove ever against the darkness of Aerendyl and his house.

And it is told among the Eldar that in that hour Zemira spoke words not fully understood, for she said: “Wrath and pride are mighty to rend, yet greater still is the power to heal. What is broken may in the end be mended, though long be the sundering.” Some hold this to be but counsel for the moment, spoken to soothe the storm; yet others deem it a shadow of things yet to come, when in the far-off ages Aerendyl himself shall be turned, and strife shall pass away, and the sundering be made whole.