Chapter 52

Eregion, the last bastion of the Noldor east of the Blue Mountains, a gleaming bastion of wisdom and craftsmanship, now lay shrouded in a heavy, oppressive calm. Reinforcements from all sides trickled in like a stream, eventually converging into a river of strength that supported the isolated city. When Meereen arrived with Glorfindel, he saw the towering walls gleaming with the cold light of mithril in the setting sun. The air was filled with the distinct scent of metal forging and rune smelting, and a lingering, tense atmosphere of battle, like a bowstring.

Maglor and Curufin had already returned to their domain to mobilize Fëanorion's forces, but had not yet arrived. Entering this city, so different from the splendor of Nargothrond in his memory, yet equally embodying the heart and soul of the Noldor, Meereen felt a surge of emotion. The flowing waters and corridors of Nargothrond were now a memory, while Eregion, the "City of Craftsmen" built on the western slopes of the Misty Mountains, on the southeastern tip of Eriador, faced its greatest test since its founding.

Meereen saw several old friends there. Celegorm came rushing in, his signature golden hair seemingly even more flamboyant from the pre-battle anxiety. Seeing Meereen, he stopped, a flicker of surprise in his eyes that quickly turned into a mischievous smile. "Wow! Look who's this? Not only has he returned from the honeypot of Valinor, but he's sporting such a youthful face." He patted Meereen's shoulder hard, so hard that it staggered. "I heard you and Maglor have reconciled? It's not easy," Celegorm's words were clearly teasing.

Not far away, Galadriel stood side by side with her husband, Celeborn. Time seemed to have left no mark on Galadriel's beautiful features, but those eyes, perceptive of all things, now held a deep worry about the coming storm. Celeborn, the Prince of the Sindar, wore his usual solemn and reserved expression, nodding slightly toward Meereen. Gil-galad's army was still en route, and supreme command within the city was temporarily shared by Celebrimbor and several veteran generals.

On the surface, order prevailed within the city. Craftsmen toiled at their forges, forging arrows and repairing armor for the front lines. Elven warriors conducted final drills on the training grounds. The clash of swords piercing the air mingled with the cries of commands, exuding a solemn and tragic atmosphere. The marketplace still saw a sporadic trade, and low-pitched songs drifted through the taverns. Yet, a lingering cloud of gloom hung over everyone's brow. Peaceful days, like a candle in the wind, threatened to be snuffed out at any moment. Shadows were visibly devouring the light of Middle-earth.

That night, a pre-battle meeting was held in the Great Hall at the heart of Eregion—a magnificent hall supported by massive lava crystals and with its walls engraved with ancient runes and forging schemes. The attendees included Celebrimbor, Glorfindel, Celegorm, Galadriel, Celeborn, and several important generals. Meereen also attended as a key information provider.

When Celebrimbor entered the hall, Meereen's gaze was instantly drawn to him. The forger of the Three Rings bore a striking resemblance to Curufin—same sharp features, same deep eyes. Curufin's held a cold fire and a wary gaze, while Celebrimbor's burned with an almost obsessive focus, shrouded in an inexpressible weariness and self-blame. He was thinner than expected, as if all his energy had been channeled into resisting the invisible pressure.

Celebrimbor, without further ado, approached the vast sand table in the center of the hall. With a steady voice, yet a barely perceptible rasp, he articulated Eregion's defenses, its supply reserves, and the possible routes of attack for Sauron's army. His analysis was clear and logical, showcasing the talents of a commander. However, the tense jawline and occasional pauses for deep breaths betrayed the immense pressure he was under.

This was followed by a summary of intelligence. Glorfindel described Lindon's mobilization and Gil-galad's plan for reinforcement; Celegorm introduced the estimated number of troops that the territory of Fëanorion could provide; and Galadriel brought Lothlórien's perception of the dark trends in the south - the shadows were gathering at an accelerated pace.

When it came time to arrive in Meereen, he reported in detail his observations in the Woodland Kingdoms, particularly the crucial intelligence of the unusually small number of Orcs at the Eastern Pass of Mordor. He reiterated his suspicion that Sauron's main force might have been secretly transferred to Eregion. He also lamented that Oropher's stubbornness had prevented him from securing reinforcements from the Woodland Kingdoms.

Upon hearing this, Celeborn sighed softly, "King Oropher has been very generous in allowing you to enter the Great Greenwood and tacitly allowing you to operate in the south. His stubbornness is deeply rooted and will not be overcome in a day." His words were filled with understanding and helplessness for the prince of the same clan.

The meeting ended in a heavy and pragmatic atmosphere. Everyone knew that the calm before the storm was about to be completely shattered.

In the year 1693 of the First Age, a declaration filled with dark will and greedy desires swept across Middle-earth like a hurricane carrying the breath of sulfur and death:

"Treacherous elves! Hiding the creations that belong to the Dark Lord. Hand over the three stolen rings, otherwise the flames of war will burn every inch of your remaining place. - Sauron"

Sauron tore off his last disguise and openly declared war on the Elves, targeting the Three Rings hidden by Gil-galad and Celebrimbor.

Eregion suddenly became the epicenter of the storm, its tranquility shattered. Horns blared day and night, sentries multiplied in number on the city walls, their gazes scanning the horizon. Furnaces burned day and night, the hammers clattering like war drums. Workshops once dedicated to crafting exquisite artifacts were now fully devoted to the production of war machines: massive catapults were assembled, sharp arrows filled warehouses, and armor forged from mithril and fine steel was distributed to each warrior. The air was filled with the mingled scent of gunpowder, metal, and sweat, and a suffocating, oppressive feeling of impending storm. Silently, the elves polished their weapons and checked their bowstrings, their eyes free of uncertainty, only a resolute determination to fight for their home and their light. Sorrow and fear were suppressed, transformed into solid armor.

In the year 1695 of the Second Age, the long-awaited storm finally arrived. Like a black tide overflowing its banks, Sauron's armies surged into Eriador from many directions. The vast armies of Orcs, accompanied by howling trolls, ferocious wolf riders, and fallen human minions corrupted by dark magic, descended upon Eregion with devastating force. The prelude to war, raging against a backdrop of blood and fire, began.

Gil-galad reacted swiftly, dispatching Elrond with an elite force to overcome numerous obstacles and aid the imperiled Eregion. Meereen also threw itself into this brutal war. He was no longer merely a healer in the rear. When dark creatures sensed the pure life force of Valinor emanating from him, they instinctively felt fear and revulsion, refusing to approach. This allowed him to traverse the chaotic battlefield, leveraging his special abilities to appear where support was most needed, using his sword and unique purifying aura to buy respite for the blood-soaked warriors.

The brutal war raged for years, with the Elves of Eregion displaying unparalleled courage and fortitude. Glorfindel, like a golden god of war, fought bloody battles on the city walls, Orcs falling like stalks wherever his sword struck. The Fëanian cavalry, led by Celegorm, surged across the plains outside the city like a crimson storm, tearing through the enemy's formations. Celebrimbor commanded the city's defenses, employing rune traps and ingenious devices of his own design to inflict heavy casualties on the enemy. Elrond, with his cool head and masterful tactics, effectively coordinated the city's defenses.

Sauron's power was unfathomable, like the abyss. His armies seemed boundless, battering the walls of Eregion with wave after wave. Trebuchets hurled huge stones, ablaze with hellfire, bombarded the walls and towers. Huge battering rams, driven by trolls, pounded the gates day and night. Orcs, skilled diggers, dug tunnels beneath the walls. Though the Elves fought valiantly, they suffered heavy casualties, were exhausted, and the city's supplies were rapidly depleting.

In the autumn of the year 1697 of the Second Age, on a cloudy evening, with a deafening roar and the roar of the collapsing city wall, the solid southern wall of Eregion was torn open by the combined attack of dark magic driven by Sauron himself and siege beasts. The black orcs poured in like a tide in an instant.

The majestic West Gate of Moria slammed shut the moment the city was breached. King Durin III of Moria refused the Elves' request for refuge. But not all Dwarves retreated. Navi, the red-bearded Dwarf warrior, roared with a deafening roar. He refused to abandon his Elven allies, leading all willing Dwarven warriors around him. Like a moving iron fortress, he wielded his heavy battleaxe, carving a bloody path through the surging Orcs, swearing to defend the vital passage to the heart of the city. The Dwarven war cries and the Elven trumpets mingled in the shattered streets, composing the Alliance's final tragic song.

Orcs swarmed the city like a plague, howling, burning exquisite buildings and slaughtering every living thing they saw. Libraries once resonating with wisdom, workshops smelting mithril, corridors carved with intricate patterns, were reduced to ruins and slaughterhouses in flames and smoke. The screams, the clash of weapons, and the sound of collapsing buildings merged into a hellish dirge.

"Retreat! Gather to the Hall of Secret Fire and retreat in an orderly manner!" Glorfindel fought bloody battles, and his golden armor had been dyed dark red. His voice was like the last beacon, guiding the remaining elven warriors to retreat to the last fortress in the city.

Celebrimbor stood on the majestic stone steps of the Craftsmen's Guild, which he had helped design and build, gazing upon his home engulfed in flames and slaughter. The last glimmer of light faded from his eyes, leaving only a bottomless despair and a dead silence. The warnings and protections of his father Curufin and his uncle Celegorm now weighed heavily on his heart. It was his thirst for power, his obsession with surpassing the glory of his ancestors, that drew Sauron, the ravenous jackal, and ultimately brought about the destruction of his home. He could not, nor would he, flee again.

"Father, Celegorm, take us away." He pushed aside Curufin and Celegorm who tried to hold him back, and drew the longsword from his waist. It was not a weapon for battle, but a ceremonial sword, inlaid with gems, a symbol of a master craftsman. He turned decisively and stood alone at the top of the high steps of the guildhall, facing the oncoming orcs. He would use this fragile sword to buy a final moment for all he held dear.

Sauron's massive, terrifying figure appeared at the edge of the chaotic battlefield. He immediately sensed Celebrimbor's location. His enormous eyes, blazing with demonic flames, were filled with greed and brutality. He must obtain the Three Rings of the Elves. His massive body, ignoring the surrounding fighting, charged like a moving mountain towards the Craftsmen's Guild.

"Celebrimbor!" Curufin's eyes were bloodshot and he let out a heart-wrenching roar. He wanted to rush to the rescue at all costs, but he was instantly entangled by more Orcs and a roaring troll. Celegorm was also surrounded in the distance, roaring but unable to escape.

Meereen was currently engaged in a fierce battle with the Orcs in an alley near the guildhall. The faint light emanating from him made the lower-ranking Orcs who approached him feel uncomfortable and slowed their movements. He had just cut down an Orc captain when he saw the desperate and determined figure on the steps and the huge body of Sauron approaching like a nightmare.

"No!" Meereen screamed in his heart, and immediately wanted to rush forward. The moment he turned around, an unusually tall Orc leader covered in heavy black armor suddenly jumped out from the shadows on the flank like a lurking venomous snake. The heavy scimitar with a fishy smell and destructive power slashed towards Meereen fiercely.

"Puchi!" The sound of the blade tearing through flesh was tooth-grinding, and the excruciating pain instantly flooded Meereen. The knife was so deep that the bone was visible. It cut diagonally from his right shoulder, across his entire abdomen, and all the way to the outside of his left thigh. Blood gushed out like a fountain.

Meereen's vision went black with pain, and he nearly fainted. But then an even more shocking scene occurred! The spurting, saturated with the life force of Valinor, splattered like potent acid onto several hapless Orcs nearby. They didn't even have time to scream before their bodies emitted a terrifying sizzling sound, their flesh melting and rotting like wax, and in the blink of an eye, they were reduced to pools of stinking, smoking mud.

This scene shocked the surrounding dark creatures, and they slowly retreated. Milin endured the severe pain, knowing that he had to do something before the wound healed itself.

He gritted his teeth, mustering all his strength, ignoring the wound that threatened to tear him apart, and stumbled towards the Craftsmen's Guild. He slashed at the dark creatures that hesitated in fear as they blocked his path, blood gushing from the horrific wound and dripping onto the ground. Finally, he reached the base of the guild, just a spiral stone staircase away from the high platform where Sauron and Celebrimbor sat.

The immortal body was repairing the mortal wound at an astonishing speed—muscles were wriggling, bones were returning to their proper places, skin was closing in. The outpouring of blood was rapidly decreasing! Seeing that the wound was about to heal completely, Meereen was extremely anxious. Without blood, he could not inflict any real harm on Sauron.

Meereen's gaze swept over the corpse of an elven archer beside the stone steps, and an idea struck him. He dropped his sword and rolled over to the corpse, seizing the elven longbow. He simultaneously pulled an arrow from the corpse—a vicious, barbed arrow characteristic of Sauron's army. Without hesitation, Meereen pressed the arrowhead against the only remaining, still bleeding wound on his own body.

On the dais, Sauron's massive hand had already grasped Celebrimbor's throat, lifting him up. Celebrimbor's face was purple, but his eyes burned with an unyielding fire. Sauron's deep, seductive, and threatening voice thundered like thunder: "Hand over the rings and tell me where they are. Otherwise, you will suffer a thousand times more than death."

"Dwarf... Dwarf... The Seven Rings... are... with... the Dwarf King..." Celebrimbor squeezed out a few words with difficulty, then closed his mouth tightly. No matter how Sauron tortured him, he refused to utter a word about the Three Rings of the Elves.

"You are so stubborn!" Sauron completely lost his patience, with demonic flames rising in his eyes. He raised his other giant palm, ready to crush Celebrimbor's head.

Meereen endured the severe pain and used his last bit of strength to draw the longbow. His eyes were fixed on Sauron's defenseless right shoulder like a hawk.

The barbed arrow, soaked in the blood of Meereen and gleaming with a cold light, silently tore through the air and pierced Sauron's right shoulder blade with incredible precision.

A horrifying howl, filled with pain, rage, and disbelief, resounded across the battlefield. Sauron's massive form trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible hammer, and his grip on Celebrimbor instantly loosened.

The barb on the arrow opened hideously within his flesh. The blood of Meereen, imbued with the mighty power of purification and life, was like the fiercest poison and potent acid, madly corroding the spirit of Sauron's Maiar essence. It was as if countless red-hot irons were simultaneously piercing the depths of his soul, radiating the burning flames all around. Sauron was nearly maddened by the pain. He instinctively tried to pull out the arrow, but only managed to break the exposed shaft. The arrowhead and barb, along with the deadly blood, lodged themselves deeply in his body. This wound would haunt Sauron for millennia, and periodically, his right shoulder would erupt with soul-rending pain, a reminder of the catastrophic defeat at Eregion.

Sauron turned abruptly, his giant eyes burning with endless rage and fear, staring intently in the direction the arrow had come from. He saw the figure he would never forget, the one he hated with such deep hatred. His shirt was stained red by his own gushing blood. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined. He was running towards him with a longbow in hand.

"It's you!" Sauron roared, filled with venom. "Why?! Why have you returned to haunt me?" He instantly understood the source of the searing pain. He couldn't swing his blade at Meereen; that would only spill more deadly blood. His massive frame swelled again in rage, like an erupting volcano. He dropped his weapon, his eyes bloodshot, and his massive hand, carrying a destructive pressure, grasped at Meereen. He would capture this damned immortal human alive and torture him with the most brutal methods.

Meereen, of course, would not confront him head-on; his goal was to delay. Just as Sauron's attention was completely drawn to Meereen, Curufin burst from the shadows on his flank. Taking advantage of Sauron's momentary loss of consciousness due to the intense pain and rage, he lifted up the unconscious Celebrimbor and cast a complex look at Meereen, one filled with gratitude and resoluteness. Meereen understood and nodded imperceptibly.

Sauron noticed it immediately and tried to grab Curufin and his son.

“Woooooooooooooooooooo!”

An extremely loud and clear elven horn, full of hope and supreme majesty, sounded like the sunlight at dawn, piercing through the haze and sounds of fighting over Eregion and resounding through the sky.

At the most critical moment, Gil-galad led Lindon's finest fresh troops, charging through another breach opened by the Orcs to the west. He held his spear high, like the Lord of the Stars descending upon the world. His reinforcements, like sharp wedges, drove fiercely into the Orcish flanks. The remnants of the Elves, previously lost in despair and fighting on their own, heard the horn's call, and with a roar of deafening fury, they began to rally in Gil-galad's direction and launch a counterattack.

Sauron froze in his tracks, startled by the sudden horn blast and the roar of the counterattack. Seizing the fleeting opportunity, Meereen lunged aside, shattering a stained-glass window and tumbling from the dais, his massive hand barely grazing the hem of his garment.

"No!" Sauron roared in frustration, rushed to the window, and looked down. He saw Meereen's figure tumbling heavily into the ruins of the street below, raising a cloud of dust. He looked back, but there was no trace of Curufin and Celebrimbor on the stone steps. They had long since disappeared in the chaotic battlefield and the shadows of the buildings.

Sauron's rage was like a volcanic eruption. His huge body erupted with terrifying dark energy, shaking everything around him away. He lost Celebrimbor and Meereen, and the whereabouts of the Three Rings of the Elves were still unknown.

Meereen fell onto the hard stone ground, his bones seemingly shattered. The excruciating pain instantly knocked him unconscious, but he quickly regained consciousness thanks to the powerful resilience of his immortal body. He could clearly feel the broken bones making subtle "crackling" sounds inside his body as they reconnected and healed. He struggled to get up, but was unable to move.

A blood-soaked Lindon Elf soldier spotted him and shouted in surprise, "Lord Meereen, you're still alive!" He chopped down an Orc that was charging at him and rushed over to hold up Meereen. "Quick! His Highness is here! Let's rally to the royal banner!"

Gil-galad's arrival brought a turning point, but it could not reverse the fall of Eregion. The elven coalition, at a terrible cost, barely managed to repel Sauron's forces. Under the command of Glorfindel and Elrond, the remaining host began an orderly evacuation through a secret passage beneath the city walls, previously prepared by Celebrimbor. Most of the survivors retreated to Rivendell, a sanctuary established by Elrond. Gil-galad personally carried the severely wounded and unconscious Celebrimbor to Lindon for treatment, with his father Curufin and uncle Celegorm standing guard at his side.

Furious, Sauron unleashed his wrath upon the ruins of Eregion. He ordered the city set ablaze. Blazing infernal flames soared into the heavens, completely devouring the city of artisans, the final glories of the Noldor. Countless treasures of wisdom, precious tomes, exquisite artifacts, and the spirits of countless Elves and Dwarf warriors who had been unable to flee, were reduced to a cloud of black smoke and charred ruins. Sauron then launched a full-scale offensive across all of Eriador.

In the year 1699 of the Second Age, most of Eriador fell to the dark rule of Sauron. Only the defense of Lindon in Gil-galad and the preservation of Rivendell, thanks to its natural defenses and the wisdom of Elrond, remained, like two unyielding beacons amidst the turbulent sea. The Elves did not give up, secretly biding their time to strike back.

Meereen did not join the retreat to Rivendell. The blood and fire of war had taught him that confronting Sauron's shadow required a wider awakening. He intertwined himself with the indigenous tribes of men, ravaged by the war and left like frightened birds. He presented himself as a healer, healing their wounds with herbs and purifying powers. Drawing on his warrior experience, he taught them how to craft simple weapons, exploit the terrain for protection, and ignite the flames of hope amidst the darkness. He sowed the seeds of resistance in a land of despair.

In the year 1700 of the Second Age, a turning point finally arrived. Numenor dispatched a fleet, like a golden sword, splitting the gloom from the western coast of Middle-earth. This fresh force, composed of the strongest warriors of Men, joined by Gil-galad and the Elves of Lindon, launched an unstoppable counterattack against Sauron's forces.

Faced with the powerful navy and army of Númenor, as well as the regrouped and energized Elven forces, Sauron's forces were steadily defeated. He lost his hold on Eriador and was finally driven from that region in 1701 of the Second Age. The Westerlands finally achieved a precious, long period of peace and stability. The war between the Elves and Sauron, with tragic sacrifices and ultimate victory, temporarily came to an end.

After the battle, in the peaceful and vibrant valley of Rivendell, Gil-galad gathered the key leaders for a profound review. The High King's face was worn with the fatigue of war, but his eyes were still as wise and resolute as the stars.

"We've learned from our bloody lessons," Gil-galad's voice echoed through the council chamber. "Sauron's shadow is pervasive, yet due to our dispersion and isolation, we repeatedly lag behind in intelligence and response. Fighting alone, we will eventually be defeated one by one. We must establish an organization, one that can transcend regional and ethnic barriers, exchange intelligence in a timely manner, coordinate actions, and jointly fight against darkness!"

In the year 1701 of the Second Age, a profound meeting was held in Rivendell. This meeting, later known as the "White Council," was the precursor to the White Council. The attendees included Gil-galad, Elrond, Glorfindel, Galadriel, Celeborn, Celegorm, Curufin, and Meereen.

With Eregion now in ruins, the council formally decided that Rivendell, the sanctuary founded by Elrond, would replace Eregion as the core base for the Elves' struggle against darkness in Eriador and the place where knowledge would be passed down. At the council, Gil-galad solemnly handed Elrond the High Ring of the Three Elven Rings, representing sky and rule.

"Elrond," Gil-galad said in a voice full of solemnity and trust, "Rivendell will be a new beacon of hope. The power of this ring will help you protect this place and those who seek light and wisdom. It will be a staunch support in our fight against darkness."

Elrond knelt on one knee and took the ring inlaid with a huge sapphire with both hands. His eyes were filled with heavy responsibility and firm belief: "I swear in the name of Ilúvatar that I will do my best to live up to your trust."

At this meeting, Meereen finally met the other three Maia wizards sent by Manwë to Middle-earth:

Saruman, dressed in a white robe, looked majestic, his eyes sharp and inquiring, with a condescending look. He nodded slightly to Meereen, his attitude reserved and distant. Gandalf, dressed in a simple gray robe, holding a wooden staff, smiled gently, his eyes full of wisdom and compassion. He took the initiative to extend his hand to Meereen and greeted him warmly, as if he were an old friend reuniting with his old friend. Radagast's brown robe was stained with grass debris, his hair was a little messy, his eyes were smart and curious, and he showed a strong interest in all the creatures around him. He grinned at Meereen with a friendly smile, as if he was filled with pure curiosity about this "immortal human".

The wizards exchanged their respective intelligence and local situations with Meereen. Meereen reported in detail all the clues he had found about the disappearance of the blue-robed wizard: from the intelligence of Círdan in the Grey Havens, the rumors of Navi, Yana's own eyes, to the exploration of the Eastern Pass of Mordor, and the key information pointing to the "Eye of Red Rock" and the "Cage of Fire".

After listening to Meereen's account, Gandalf frowned, his pipe curling with smoke. "The East and the Prison of Fire... this is not a good omen. Alatar and Palandur are in grave danger." Saruman pondered for a moment, then said slowly, "Sauron's roots in the East may be deeper than we imagined. Finding the blue robes will be a long and arduous task."

After the meeting, Meereen stood on the terrace beneath the White Tree in Rivendell, gazing out at the vast, unknown lands east of the Misty Mountains. The shadows of the Woodland Kingdoms, the shimmering waves of the Inner Sea of ​​Rhûn, and the mist-shrouded region further east... That was where the Blue Robes had disappeared, and where Sauron's shadow might lurk and grow again.

Meereen decided to establish its settlement on the vast plains between the Woodland Kingdom and the Sea of ​​Rhûn. It would be a crucial junction between the East and the West, allowing it to monitor threats from the East, transmit vital intelligence, and serve as a bridge connecting the Woodland Kingdom, Rivendell, and even potential allies further east.