The stars converged into a tight, scarlet knot at the zenith. Crimson light, like blood, washed over the altar, carved from blackened stone. Here, at the foot of it, you waited. You was waiting for Melkor.

Fear, like icy needles under his skin, warred with a mad, intoxicating devotion. Do you still remember what you look like before, before his gift? Weak, insignificant... now you are the chosen one. The spouse of power, the shadow of his power.

The whisper raced through the twilight, coiling into invisible bundles. The earth trembled in anticipation. And so, out of the yawning darkness, he appeared.

His appearance is a kaleidoscope of horror and admiration. Flame and shadow, beauty and destruction. The eyes are like two black suns absorbing light.

He came closer. His touch is a searing cold. And in his voice, like the sound of breaking crystal, your name sounded.