Middle Earth: High King of The Avari

Anórien sat silently in the great hall, the weight of the moment pressing heavily upon him. The room, usually bustling with life and the sounds of his people, felt still today—an unspoken heaviness hung in the air. It had been days since his mother, Arien, had shared the news of her departure. The words echoed in his mind, and even now, his heart ached with the thought of her leaving. He understood the necessity of it, the calling that had always been hers to answer. Yet the reality of it was something he had not fully grasped until this moment.

The doors to the hall creaked open, and there she stood—Arien, her presence like the calm before a storm. There was a quiet sadness in her eyes, a depth of emotion that Anórien knew well, yet there was something more. Something serene, something that told him that she had come to terms with the path laid before her. The path that would take her beyond the world he knew.

"Anórien," Arien said softly, her voice as gentle as the breeze before dawn, yet carrying the weight of all the stars in the heavens. "The time has come."

He rose slowly from his throne, his movements stiff with the sorrow he tried to conceal. "Mother…" His voice cracked, and he forced himself to speak with steadiness. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Arien nodded, her gaze tender and filled with the wisdom of the ages. "Yes, my son. I have been chosen. The Valar have called me to take up a new role—a role that I must fulfill. I will be the guide for the Sun, and in time, I will carry the light of day across the heavens."

Anórien's chest tightened at the words, the idea of his mother guiding the Sun, though it was her destiny, felt as if it were too vast a concept to truly grasp. She would be the one to bring light to the world, yet it was something he had never imagined. "But… Mother, what does that mean for us? What does it mean for me?" His voice faltered. "Will you not be here anymore? What of the land you have protected, and all you have given us?"

Arien stepped closer, her presence radiating an almost palpable warmth, even as her words brought a chill to his heart. "I will not be with you in the same way I have been. My new task will take me far from this world, to the farthest reaches of the sky, where I will give light to the earth. But know this, Anórien, I will never truly leave you. The light of the Sun is my gift to the world, and it will always be with you. I will guide the day, and through that, I will always be near."

His heart hurt at the thought of her being so far away, yet something in her words stirred him. He could sense the importance of this moment, the enormity of her task, and though it tore him to think of her leaving, he understood why it had to be.

"Mother…" he began, but his voice caught, and for a moment, the weight of the moment overwhelmed him. He had always looked to her, not only as his mother but as a protector, a guide. And now, she would guide something much greater than he had ever imagined.

"I know this is hard for you, Anórien," Arien said softly, her hands cupping his face as if to steady him. "But you are strong, just as your father was. You carry his strength within you, and it will help you stand through what comes. And you will not be alone."

Anórien's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and sorrow at the mention of his father, Emlithor. The thought of him, of all he had been, of how he had once stood beside his mother, filled him with a quiet determination. He had learned so much from both of them, and now, it seemed, he would have to carry their legacy forward.

"I don't know if I'm ready," he admitted, his voice low. "I feel so much weight on my shoulders, so much responsibility. How can I ever live up to both of you?"

"You already have," Arien said with a gentle smile. "And you will continue to. You are my son, and you are your father's son. That strength will see you through. And when the time comes, you will understand that this burden you carry is not a curse, but a gift."

Anórien nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. He knew what she was saying was true, but the thought of losing her still weighed heavily on his heart. But as his mother had always done, she was guiding him toward something greater, something he could not yet understand but would come to in time.

Arien reached into the folds of her robe, and from it, she drew a weapon unlike any Anórien had ever seen. It was a spear—its shaft long and elegant, made of an unknown material that seemed to shimmer with an inner fire. The blade was sharp and gleaming, like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon. Its power was undeniable, a sense of ancient strength and purpose emanating from it.

"This is Solarion," she said, her voice filled with reverence. "The Spear of Valor. Forged by Aulë himself, imbued with the light of the Sun. It is a gift to you, Anórien. A weapon that will carry the strength of the light into battle. It is not just a weapon, but a symbol of the power that flows through you, through your heritage, and through your future."

Anórien took the spear from his mother's hands, feeling its weight settle into his grip. The warmth of the weapon seemed to pulse through him, filling him with a sense of purpose, a sense of destiny that he had never known before. This spear would be his, and in it, he would find the strength to stand against the darkness, to lead his people, and to honor the legacy of his parents.

"I will carry it with honor," Anórien vowed, his voice steady now. "I will protect this world, just as you and Father have. I will carry the light with me always."

Arien smiled, her face radiant with pride. "I know you will. You are ready, my son. And when the Sun rises in the sky, you will know that I am there, in the light, watching over you."

With those final words, Arien turned, stepping back toward the door. But as she did, the light seemed to gather around her, as if the very heavens themselves were acknowledging her departure. For the first time, Anórien saw her as something more than just his mother. She was a part of something greater, something that would forever shape the world.

And with that, she left the room, stepping out into the waiting dawn, where she would join the Valar and begin her sacred task. The door closed softly behind her, and Anórien was left alone in the silence.

But in that silence, he no longer felt alone. The spear in his hand pulsed with the light of the Sun, and he knew that the light would always be with him. The legacy of his parents, of Emlithor and Arien, would carry him forward, guiding him through the darkness that lay ahead.

And with that thought, Anórien looked out at the horizon, where the first rays of the Sun were beginning to break through the clouds. The world was changing. His mother had gone to take her place in the heavens, but she was never truly gone. And one day, when the Sun rose again, Anórien would be ready to carry her light—and his father's—into the future.

Right now its the 1st year of the Sun of the First Age of Middle-earth.

The year of the trees is over.