I have seen them. Yes, of course. Awakening, yet ever-awake in the mind of their master. Hidden like precious pearls within the tight-closed shell of the black land. Shivered at their sightless gaze, groaned under the thrilling agony of their apprehension - I am a favoured Man.
I cannot comprehend the dread that all nine pairs of eyes together, all nine wills bent like exquisite swords of malice, could set in a Man. I deem it beyond the heart of any Man to stand firm beneath their co-joined dread. Enough, even for me, to stand before a lesser number. Comprehended, plundered, witnessed, judged. A fire of transformation beyond any earthbound flames, burning away impurity.
Arodiel, slayer of horses, spy at the stone, bearer of blood ... she attempts to fence with words. This northern woman does not comprehend what stands before her, and what stands behind me, like great shadows thrown by my outstretched wings. I will her to be of use to me. If she fails to be of use... then ... Behind me rises my silent tower, where forgotton men weep against the uncaring stones, longing to find one thing in their minds that they can offer to me. Anything that could be useful, some tattered memory that could buy a release from their misery. She is too precious to be wasted thus - but - there she must go, to await my pleasure if she fails to obey, if she is foolish enough to remain silent.
She should know, that I am the sweeter master. I remain a Man, whilst other judges no longer recall name or form. She should know what path she chooses to tread if she denies or defies me. The exquiste swords of malice, kings and lords of Men, once, of a time.
How I long to ask them, what was your desire? A lust that so consumed you that it burnt life away to this dread shell, and from the ashes granted immortality. For they are alive, certainly, though their senses are no longer bound by a Man's fleshy mortal prison. Century upon century they dwell close to the fire of immortality, gifted that elusive prize by the Eye. Granted by Him that which should have been ours by right, that the Elves coverted as their own, that they have ever striven to deny Men. The gift that is promised to all Men of good faith, once this war is done.
