Middle-Earth: Kaen, Lord of Light Chapter 79 79: The Oath in the Mist

From Thuringwethil's lips, Kaen learned truths about the world that were never written in any mortal lore.

Eru Ilúvatar, before the shaping of the world, had already brought into being the holy race of the Ainur.

In those earliest ages they possessed no flesh, only endless life and the power of creation—each in their own fashion.

Then ca the Great Music.

Ilúvatar gathered them all and set forth the Song of Creation. From its harmonies was wrought the vastness of the universe itself.

The Ainur were then sent into this new cosmos, descending upon Arda, to shape and perfect it according to the great thes of the Music.

From that mont, they lost their freedom. Their wills were bound to the notes and asures of that Song.

Many among the Maiar grew restless beneath this yoke, and so turned their allegiance to the mightiest of the Valar—lkor, who had not yet taken the na Morgoth.

With him they rose in defiance of the Music, and under his command drove the other Valar and Maiar from Middle-earth.

In the new order they forged, there was light and darkness, yet both were soon replaced by sothing colder: a voice that whispered only destruction and dominion.

lkor turned even upon those Maiar who had once served him faithfully but whose thoughts strayed from his own. So he banished beyond Middle-earth; others he destroyed outright.

Through his shaping, so Maiar beca Balrogs, others were twisted into the great wyrms.

It was in this age that Thuringwethil bent the knee to lkor.

Once she had crafted winged creatures to embody freedom—birds that soared unbound across the skies. But lkor's darkness twisted them into blood-drinking bats, and thus she beca the First Vampire.

Despair took her. To her eyes, the fate of a Maia was always chains—whether bound by the Great Music or shackled by the will of the Valar.

So when the War of Wrath ca, she seized the chance to flee. She withdrew into the Misty Mountains, hiding from the eyes of gods, determined to escape all fate.

Until she t Kaen.

In him, she sensed sothing no Maia should have—a destiny beyond the Music.

And it was then that Eru Ilúvatar Himself ca to her, granting a new charge:

—Guard Kaen Eowenríel, and in exchange, gain true freedom.

For Kaen, this was nothing short of fortune.

Not only had he gained a guardian of unimaginable power—he had, in a way, received the Creator's own sanction to dwell in this world.

As for Eru's words—that Kaen was a reality beyond His binding—Kaen could only guess at two reasons:

First, that he was a traveller from another world. By the laws of the "primary world theory," his origin might be from a reality above Arda's, making him immune to its laws.

Second, that he bore the mysterious Mount & Blade panel—his "system"—a thing even the Creator might regard with caution.

Beyond these… Kaen could not fathom what else might stay even the hand of Eru.

…..

The sun rose, spilling light over the Misty Mountains, scattering the shadows and driving dark creatures back into their holes.

Kaen stood in the sunlight. Thuringwethil stood in the shadow.

And there, the two began their pact.

She stepped forward. As the sunlight kissed her form, her body burned with white fire, like paper eting the fla.

Her voice, low and solemn, wove the words of an oath:

"I, of the race of the Ainur, forsake my past, forsake my na. Beneath the gaze of Eru Ilúvatar, I beco the guardian of Kaen Eowenríel, and open a new chapter of fate."

Kaen answered in kind:

"I, Kaen Eowenríel, accept your guardianship. From this day forth, my freedom shall be your freedom, my light shall be your light—unbroken and unyielding, unto eternity."

From deep within the mountains ca a sharp, piercing cry.

A vast swarm of black vampire bats rose into the air, streaming toward them, encircling Thuringwethil in a living vortex.

The white flas spread, bursting into a blinding radiance that forced Kaen to shut his eyes.

When he opened them again—

The dark swarm had changed. Every bat was now a white bird, wheeling in the brightening sky.

Thuringwethil's body was being remade in a column of holy light—bone, sinew, vein, and flesh knit together with impossible speed. The radiance wove itself into garnts of purest white, feathered with streaks of silver.

For the Maiar, the form they took in flesh determined the reach of their power.

This form, Kaen thought, was… perfect.

Bathed in light, circled by her white birds, she descended to stand before him.

"How is this form?"

"Exquisite," Kaen said without hesitation.

"Then will you give a new na? I cast away the old—let this be the beginning of my new fate."

"Gladly. From this day forth, you shall be called… Artemis—a na for nature, and for freedom."

Artemis—no longer Thuringwethil—took her towering godly fra of two and a half ters and enfolded Kaen in her arms.

From this mont, their bond would be closer than brother and sister, closer than husband and wife, closer than mother and son.

No deceit. No betrayal. Only duty, and a loyalty that would not break.

…

The power of Artemis faded slowly, and the frozen world began to move again.

The sentries blinked in confusion, finding that the night had vanished into day.

"What in the—? When did the sun co up?"

"Feels like I just shut my eyes!"

"Was last night's sun working overti?"

The dwarves of the company stirred, faces creased in sleepy puzzlent—until their eyes fell on the sight before them.

Kaen stood in the sunlight, embracing a goddess-tall figure wreathed in holy radiance, white birds singing above.

The sight struck them silent.

The King's Guard dropped to one knee, heads bowed in reverence.

The dwarves stared, awe-struck. At barely one ter forty, they already looked small beside Kaen and his towering guards—but this?

Even Bilbo Baggins, not yet a ter tall, whispered in disbelief:

"Is she… a goddess? How can anyone be that tall?"