Malphegor
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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 239
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 19:11:12 +0000 UTC"Greetings."
Garrett dismounted from his horse, tethering it to a small fence at the base of the tower.
"Garrett, Lord of Wayfort, has come to pay a visit."
"We know of you. Your deeds in recent years are without equal, thunderous as storm clouds gathering. Every Elf dwelling here has heard tell of them."
The Elf before the tower asked, "May I know your purpose in coming here?"
"Would it be possible for me to go inside and take a look at that seeing-stone?"
"Forgive me. I cannot make such a decision."
The Elf shook his head respectfully.
"I understand."
Garrett did not seem particularly surprised.
The Elves' response was entirely reasonable. That object was indeed not something for mortals to use casually, after all, it was a sacred relic, one through which one could directly glimpse the Undying Lands.
Even if Sauron were to one day seize this place, he might not risk touching it. A single glance from the Valar across the sea would be enough to bring ruin upon him.
As for Garrett, he did not yet know what attitude the guardians and rulers of this world might hold toward him.
Toward himself, however, he was quite clear-eyed, he certainly did not yet possess the power to sink a continent.
But the Valar across the sea could do exactly that.
And sinking a continent was only a fraction of their might.
Some of them governed matter: earth, mountains, and minerals were their creation.
Some governed water: seas and rivers, and every pure drop held dominion over creatures of darkness.
Some governed spirits, some ruled over growing things, and some even presided over the very concept of "the breath of life."
Aside from those who presided over subtler laws, there were also those who were simply titanic in strength, if they were to unleash themselves fully, the earth would quake, mountains would collapse, continents would sink, and the world itself would shatter and break apart.
That was why the upper limits of this world were constrained, and why one no longer saw such overwhelming gods and monsters. At most, there were figures like Gandalf and Saruman, who conjured minor spells, cast enchantments, or contested each other in battles of will.
Anything too excessive had been forbidden.
For the One who created this world did not wish for it to be destroyed. Even though He could create new worlds again, He was good and merciful, unwilling to abandon His children.
Nor did He wish to interfere too greatly in the world's workings.
Still, when it came to the Valar of this world, raw "battle strength" was only one aspect of their power, not its entirety.
Wisdom, creativity, imagination, inspiration, these too could be counted as power.
A person who was not strong in battle, but excelled in those other aspects, might also be described as "mighty."
Gandalf, for example. Though he was gentle in nature, and preferred not to use force, his "power" among the Maiar was notable, he was publicly acknowledged by the Valar as one of the most gifted among them.
But... if one spoke only of "authority" and "inherent qualities"...
Consider this: Minecraft, another name for it might be "Become a God of Creation." While inelegant, the name did reflect something true.
Even compared with the Valar, Garrett was by far the most versatile.
Even if not yet strong enough, he could continue to expand, and expand again, until it was sufficient.
His strength was not fixed, merely balanced, for now.
A few steps further, however, and he might no longer belong to this world at all.
Before the high tower of Elostirion, Garrett smiled faintly, stepping back without insistence. He had only come by on his way. If he could borrow the stone's sight to glimpse Valinor, his curiosity would be satisfied. If not, so be it.
"Please, come within."
Just as he turned to walk back toward his horse, a voice called out to him.
The great doors of the tower swung open, and from within stepped an Elf.
Garrett looked at him, silent for a moment.
This Elf... he did not recognize, nor was he any well-known figure from the tales.
Perhaps he was the keeper or warden of the tower.
"You may ascend."
The Elf smiled and stepped aside, inviting Garrett within.
"Thank you."
Garrett paused for a moment, then nodded, following him into the White Tower.
All the way to the topmost level, when the palantír came into view, the Elf withdrew to the doorway, leaving space for Garrett.
"So this is the legendary palantír of Elostirion... the one said to reveal visions of the Undying Lands."
Garrett closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped closer.
The dark crystal, black as the night sky, shimmered with inner starlight. Its surface shifted and changed, spanning sea and sky, reaching toward some unknown point high beyond the heavens.
White shores, vast green fields in the distance, and the rising sun.
A scene of beauty and harmony reflected in Garrett's eyes.
As the vision widened, the first landmark to appear was the great tower of Avallónë, the site of the Master Stone among the palantíri. It was only because of that Master Stone that this seeing-stone before him could reflect those distant sights.
After Númenor sank beneath the waves, the Undying Lands, home of the Valar and the Elves, were removed from the circles of the world, so that no later age might repeat the same transgression.
Now, only those permitted could travel the "Straight Road" over sea and sky to reach it. Others would find only endless ocean.
As the Tower of Avallónë came into view, Garrett soon felt a pull.
This power drew his sight beyond the tower, past the narrow pass behind it, until it fell upon a golden land teeming with life.
Countless tall and wondrous beings lived and flourished there, and many beautiful, thriving cities rose, where Elves made their homes.
Valinor, everything in this land, from stone to stream, was sacred and unmarred. Life upon it was free from disease, decay, or withering, and could endure eternally.
It was like... it was like his own domain, in a way.
Upon the golden plains stood many vast and holy halls. Even without being told, Garrett knew, they were the dwellings of the Valar.
In a trance, his vision was pulled again, across these halls, over lush pastures and forested foothills, across rivers and lakes, past an unforgettable garden of surpassing beauty, until it reached the world's very edge.
There, near the Walls of Night, stood a quiet and secluded hall. It was silent and empty, with no living beings or moving things within.
Yet a lamentation echoed there, sorrowful, yet instilling calm and hope.
Even he was moved by it. A strange and nameless emotion welled up in his heart.
[Corruption Level: 0%]
Suddenly, the crystal dimmed.
When it shone again, what it revealed was no longer the splendor of Valinor, but the sorrows of Middle-earth, sufferings past, the dead, and losses to be mourned.
The vision shifted again. His eyes narrowed slightly, what it showed now was his own realm: Wayfort, the Beornings of the Vales of Anduin, Dale, Lake-town, the settlements along the Crossroads...
The people there were prosperous and joyful. They lived with hope, filled with energy in all they did. Just looking at them was enough to kindle heartfelt gladness.
Then, a pair of sorrowful eyes, still bearing the traces of tears, gazed upon Garrett.
In that instant, he understood whose eyes they were.
Nienna, the Valar's Lady of Mourning, and Gandalf's wise teacher.
From her, Gandalf had learned pity and patience. From her, he had learned to listen... to listen to the grief of others, and to use his strength to free them from darkness, rekindling hope.
Just as he had done for Garrett.
Indeed, like teacher, like student.
Garrett suddenly smiled.
The vision within the crystal vanished. All returned to its former stillness. The brief encounter was over. There had been no revelation, no exchange of words. The presence in Valinor had merely wished to look upon him, nothing more.
It was time to leave.
After bidding farewell to the White Tower's guardian, he mounted his horse and continued westward, toward the Grey Havens.
