Chapter Text
Nothing could survive in the formless Void and nothing did: Matter collapsed upon itself and was annihilated, and Spirit was razed down to its very Core. Even the Core could only flicker faintly, barely clinging to life in the wastes of Outside.
There was nothing in the Nothing, no heaven and no earth, except for one Spirit. It was very ancient, this spirit, and full of helpless malice. The Void was filled with its grinding hate, and anger, and woe, but was still empty. Nothing would have changed until the last day, when Eru would close His hand around Eä to snuff it out of existence, but at one point in Time immeasurable, there was Light, and the Nothing became Everything.
Belekôrôz.
Now it must be made clear that this tale is a translation made for the sake of the Eruhini, and so the terms and images it will use are those comprehensible for Eldar and Atani minds. This is not how it was, in that realm of imperishable souls known as the Timeless Halls, but it is still the truth.
The spirit, shriveled and forlorn, lifted his gaze to the throne of the Presence.
“What do You want?”
The Presence ignored the harsh tone of the spirit’s thought. Instead, He did the impossible: reaching out and illuminating Melkor’s soul, He offered him the thing he had lost so long ago, that he could not remember what it was like to have it. Melkor could not even remember how desperately he wanted it back then, how it hurt.
Salvation.
To return to his Source, to belong to Him again.
Melkor was aghast. For a long while he could not speak.
“No.”
Yes.
“Truly, after all this time?” he finally managed to grind out. “After I’ve marred Your creation so deeply it could not be healed? After I’ve defied You, tortured and slaughtered Your Children, You who are called the All-father? The entire Arda is drenched in the blood of my atrocities! And now I’m supposed to believe that You would have me back, just like that? No! This is some trick, one of Your games, and I don't want to be played.”
The offer was extended again, shimmering and enticing. It wrapped around him, gentle and comforting in its magnitude, soothing away his aches and worries. This was no trick. It was real.
You’ve paid for your sins, Belekôrôz. I forgive you.
That magnificent Light he hungered for so long ago, that rejected him, that drove him mad with longing when he could not have it, was suddenly within his reach. Abundant, beautiful, an end to his suffering and bereavement. Melkor faltered, dizzy with re-awakened need.
It was too late. Paradise, once lost, could never be regained. Melkor fought to keep whatever bits of his frayed mind he still possessed. Even if he were at the peak of his power and not so deranged after a forever in the Void, he was no match for Him. Still, he would not go out without a fight.
“No. Put me back in the Void, for all I care. I will never submit to You again.” He was dimly aware of his twin standing at the foot of the throne and of some others of his more prominent siblings nearby, but it was hard to make out their souls in the all-blinding Light. His twin was radiating pity and worry. Melkor loathed him.
You need not be afraid. Open your mind to me.
But he was afraid. Melkor would have backed away if such a thing were possible, but there was no escaping the Place. A sense of dread descended upon him and his soul changed colors like a storm cloud. He lashed out with all the force he could muster. “Oh, but You are cruel. You cast me away and despised me when all I wanted was to worship You, and now, when I’ve made peace with my loss, You drag me back? Why must You torment me so? I hate You! I hate You!”
It was as if a hand cupped his cheek then, warm and all encompassing. Melkor staggered to his knees.
“I hate, I hate, I love…” his growls wound down to thin, rugged whispers and broken half-words. He felt the tendrils of thought that were slowly but steadily engulfing his soul, aligning it for Claiming. Tears that he hadn’t shed since before Eä streamed freely down his face. “I must not love You. I must not yearn for You. I have to defy You, to oppose You in every turn, or I would never be able to – Master!”
Melkor’s soul screamed and shattered as it was pierced to the Core by the strength of the Claiming. He writhed in agony, or was it ecstasy? His memories glimmered before his mind’s eye, full of fire and beauty. The memories filled him with sadness and a sense of loss, but then they fled: his mind was burned to a crisp when Eru divided darkness from light in his soul and cast the darkness away, binding him to Himself again. All of Melkor’s memories, all the knowledge he accumulated in Eä, and all the damage his pain and anger did to him – all were gone. He was whole again, pure and new, like he was supposed to be: a spirit of change and renewal, He Who Arises In Might. For one endless moment he was suspended in Eru’s Light which shone all around him, through him, hallowing him again to serve His purpose. And then the Light went out and he toppled over.
Melkor lay on his back, slowly coming back to his senses. He heard a voice speaking his name. He blinked and his brother’s face coalesced above him. He grabbed his arm.
“Where’s the Maia?”
“Which Maia, brother?”
“The fiery one,” answered Melkor, blinking through a flitting sense of loss. “The one who was… I forget.”
Manwë eyed him carefully, but then Melkor’s face relaxed and his fire and darkness mellowed to light and soft shadow. For the first time in millions of years, Manwë allowed himself a genuine smile.
“Come, my dear brother. Our Lord awaits us.”