Flamme Im Wind || Angbang

Flamme im Wind

The sun had sunken beyond the horizon long ago, but yet a tall figure stood in front of the gates of Angband. If you didn't look closely, it would've been nothing more than a mere shadow three star-like, bright spots and a candle. But no, it was a dark lord, known by the name of Melkor... Though "Morgoth Bauglir" was more popular among many, he did not call himself that. Neither did his lieutenant. Standing motionless like a statue for hours and hours, he held a candle with a weak flame in his burned and destroyed hand. He would not even need such a thing as a candle, but the flame was bound to another creature's life ... The only one that had ever been so very dear to him.

Oh he shouldn't have left Mairon's stubborn mind win. He should not have left him alone out there. Those thoughts were haunting his already troubled mind, as he watched the flame of the candle flicker, fighting for gleam and warmth. The Vala knew exactly what this meant. Shivers, which were caused by the huge amount of guilt ran down his spine... That was unusual for the dark lord. Melkor could snap any creature's neck without feeling a thing. He rarely felt pity, guilt or fear at all. Especially not for another living being. Yet, there was one exception. Him and him alone.

"Oh what have I done? If I only wouldn't have let you go..." He quietly muttered to himself with a more than just grievous tone in his deep voice.

But Mairon had agreed to this. He had wanted this and he had convinced his master that he could do this. Again, because he had wanted to. Because he wanted to prove himself to his dearest Melkor. There were so many better ways to pass the road of Helcaraxë, yet... He chose to walk and walk alone, being convinced that he could do it. But he did not know that the snow would block his powers. Mairon did not know that he would not have any opportunity to travel any faster anymore. But it was too late to turn and choose defeat. He just had to get to Valinor. Cursing the Valar, the lieutenant gritted his teeth. He was naive... So naive.

If he had only taken his crystal ball, so he could call out for help... If only he had not been so foolish... The snow hit Mairon's face with such a speed, that each snowflake felt like a small, icey cold knife, which cut little wounds into his face. Of course there were none, but it felt like it. The Maia gripped his cloak tightly, while trying to breathe normally. Every breath and every step he took felt like a step closer to his end, but yet he heavily tried to struggle against it. This could not be his end.

The fallen Maia tried to conjure up a flame. It did not work well. All he could manage to do, was a small one — similar to a flame on a candle — and it was immediately blown out by the wind. He tried to shift his shape and that did not work at all. His usually flaming and glowing red hair was full of snow; in fact everything was. That would normally not be a problem, but his entire usually glowing presence was fading away now. The snow was everywhere, even in his eyelashes, so he rapidly blinked, just for the ability to see.

So his knees gave in and he slowly broke under the weight of his own body, landing in the snow, which was slowly suffocating and annihilating him. There he curled up with a loud sob to at least get some warmth from his own body, but it was too late. So the snow was dancing around the little flame that was Mairon's body, which contained no light, no warmth and no hope in itself anymore. No, he was almost completely defeated by the ice; defeated by the wind and snow, which froze him to the bone and stiffened his limbs. The dark Maia was shaking for he now felt the blood behind his face. It was bitterly cold... He was bitterly cold.

But yet he refused. He refused to give in to the snow and ice. He refused to give up and he refused to choose defeat. With his last strength and a loud sob he arose and sharply inhaled the crisp air. The tears streaming from his eyes immediately froze on his cheeks, the ice biting into his skin, but he could not care any less. Mairon took another deep breath, before he started yelling and howling into the wind out of pure pain and desperation.