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The Mythology of Beardsgaard • VIII • The Firsts • .ii

Posted on March 19 2020

“How does one greet a newly formed, if seemingly infinitely powerful creature such as this?”

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Let us tell you a tale.

≈ I ≈

ii. The Firsts

In the early days on the Realm, Êl and Angolon rested upon the banks of the mighty river Duin. One night Êl and Angolon laid down to rest, and when they did, their dreams were filled with dark fire, terrible and powerful and beautiful as the cosmos themselves.

And when they woke, they beheld a being. Towering above the pair with hair of spun silver and skin of a deep indigo that shone like fresh inky snow, the First of the Valar possessed eyes that flamed a furious black violet, radiating their own light.

Even in the sparkling golden morning rays, only shadow touched the one in front of them, the sun skating away like water on well-waxed wood. He did not speak for a long time.

When he did, he said, in a voice as deep and dark as the heavily shadowed western forests, “And what are we to do, now?”

It was a good question. Êl did not know. How does one greet a newly formed, if seemingly infinitely powerful creature such as this?

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Angolon asked.

“I would.” said the Shadow Lord.

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