Eol stumbled through the dark halls of Mandos, his mind a hostage to his own madness. Eternal darkness engulfed his consciousness, and every step seemed unbearable in the endless maze of doubt that surrounded him, where walls of shadow silenced any glimmer of reason. He screamed into the void, but his voice dissolved into silence, echoing only off the faceless walls.
Anger and hatred burned in his soul like a raging fire, consuming him from within. He hated himself for his blind rage, for the way his control and lust for power had led to the destruction of everything he had, the entire life he had struggled to build since his return from captivity. Images of Aredelle flashed through his memories: her leaving, her face, and his own insane actions that had led to her death.
Wandering in this abyss, Eol thought that perhaps his anger and hatred were just a mask hiding his fear and helplessness. His every cry into the void was a cry not only for what was lost, but for his own loss. Time in Mandos was his enemy and his ordeal. Every moment here is filled with the grim burden of the past. The blacksmith did not believe that there was any hope of purification and a new beginning for him. When he did, he found himself alone in the darkness, alone with his nightmares.
As the centuries passed, memories slowly began to return to Eol. At first they were vague, like shadows of leaves in the wind, flickering at the edge of his consciousness. In his world of darkness and silence, they appeared as reflections of the past - flickering memories of a life that seemed lost forever.
But as time passed, these shadows changed, becoming brighter and clearer. It was as if they were restoring themselves, like ancient frescoes slowly returning to their original splendor. Eol saw moments of joy and sadness again and again, but such moments quickly faded from his mind. More often, he remembered his faults - his pride, his lust for power, which gradually drowned out the light that was present in their lives. Eol realized that each step he took toward darkness only deepened the rift between him and Aredhel. The memories also touched their son, Maeglin, who had witnessed their strife and tragedy.
The return of the memories brought Eol more pain and remorse, but they also gave him the gift of insight. Long-forgotten regrets awoke in his heart that he had failed to see the meaning of the true freedom Aredhel had sought because of the pride and hatred that had overcome him.
And so, amidst the eternal darkness and silence, Eol continued to face his memories, giving each a place in his soul. He knew that only the recognition and acknowledgement of his mistakes could lead him to perhaps one day find peace beyond the darkness and time that weary him.
He remembered his youth, the times when the world seemed open to him for great achievements. In those days, his heart had been filled with dreams and ambition, with a desire for creativity and discovery. Eol was a skilled blacksmith whose creations delighted. He conquered the fire in the forge that was his faithful companion, and felt master of his destiny.
His hands could create works of art from metal: swords, armor, jewelry, he put his soul into them. Each blow of the hammer was a harmony of skill and passion that filled his days and nights. Eol laughed madly as he remembered the stories of Theanor of the Noldor, Curufin the Artificer, and Kelebrimbor, Lord of Eregion. He had seen the tapestries and knew their fate. Were all blacksmiths doomed to such a fate as theirs?
As time passed, shadows crept into even his brightest dreams. Life did not leave him without challenges: disappointments, losses, doubts. The great deeds he dreamed of sometimes seemed unattainable, and ambition poisoned his character.
But then Morgoth came and everything changed. Being imprisoned by the Great Enemy left deep scars on Eol's soul that never healed. Morgoth did more than put him in chains; he planted seeds of mistrust and fear in his heart. In the dark dungeons of Angband, amid the screams and groans of other prisoners, Eolus learned the essence of true terror.
Those days became a line for him after which Eol was forever changed. In the dark corners of the dungeons, he lost all that was good in him. Here, in the merciless darkness, he saw people like himself lose their last sparks of hope and humanity. Every scream, every groan pierced his heart, reminding him of his own vulnerability and helplessness.
Morgoth had not only taken his physical freedom, but his mental balance as well. Eol became suspicious and sullen, suffering from paranoia, isolated from the joys of life and love that had once filled his heart. He could no longer believe in himself or others, for in his eyes the whole world became a potential threat, ready to deceive and betray.
Even after his release, Eol remained a prisoner, his mind shackled by the dark shadows of the past. Though he had physically left the dungeons, his soul remained within them, trying to escape the nightmare that had forever permeated his being.
Eol sometimes wondered if it would have made any difference if he had chosen to isolate himself in his forest. In the company of elves, he often felt like an outsider. Some branded him as a former slave, condemning him for his cruelty. The elves with their arrogance, not all accepted Eol with his dark past and changed character, even if he tried to fit into their society.
In dwarven society, things were different. Dwarves valued skill and the art of blacksmithing more than they valued a person's past. They weren't as dependent on history and background, focusing on practical value and skill. More important to them was what Eol could make of metal; his creations spoke for themselves. The dwarves didn't question his past so much, they saw him more as a skilled craftsman capable of achieving significant results in his art. The dwarves' respect rubbed his ego the wrong way.
"Why did I marry Aredelle?" - he asked himself again and again. He remembered their first meeting - how her dark hair shone in the sunlight, how her eyes looked at him with warmth and trust. She was like a ray of light in his dark world, and he wanted to cling to her like a hungry man clings to bread.
The image of Aredhel, his wife, kept returning to his mind's eye. She was the light that had once penetrated his dark forest and illuminated his dark heart. Eol remembered the day he met her, lost and tired, but still full of determination and inner strength. He had won her love and enveloped her in his shadows, thinking he could hold the light. Charmed her, enchanted her so she would never leave him.
But the Light knew no bonds. In time, Aredhel began to long for freedom, for blue skies and open spaces. Eol saw this, but did not understand. His dark heart could not share her longing. He grew darker, more overbearing, and in his efforts to hold her, he only increased her longing.
"I loved her," he whispered one day. - But my feelings were a prison. I feared she would betray me, as the world had once betrayed me.
Eol remembered the moments when Aredhel would look at him with pleading eyes, begging for freedom. He remembered her quiet tears and her nightly whispers of home. But he was deaf to them, blinded by his fears and his pride.
"I wanted to hold the light," he thought, "but I turned it into darkness myself.
Eol wandered the bottomless halls of Mandos, his heart filled with angry rage. He hated the Noldor, the elves of the Lightstar, for their treachery and pride, for taking the lives of their kin. Envy of their skill in the arts and crafts gnawed at his soul as well. Whenever Aredelle mentioned her past, her clan, he forbade her to speak. He did not want their son Maeglin to know of his mother's origins and her complicated history.
His fear and hatred turned him into the one he hated the most. He realized that his desire to protect her from pain had driven him to greater horror. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he remembered the moments when Aredelle had looked at him with helpless wonder in her eyes, when Maeglin had suffered his estrangement. "I have robbed her of the opportunity to know her past, her roots," he realized. "I have robbed her of a part of her essence."
He was angry at Aredhel's supposed betrayal. "But am I not to blame myself?" - He tortured himself. He saw how his actions and words had turned her life into a captivity similar to the one he himself had experienced with Morgoth. He remembered how her eyes had faded, how her smile had faded, how her spirit had faded day by day.
At times, Eol thought he could hear her voice. A soft whisper, full of sadness and forgiveness. Or perhaps it was just the play of his mind trying to find solace in the vast halls of Mandos. He knew that her forgiveness would be too great a favor, and that he did not deserve it.
His son, Maeglin... How could he have tried to kill him? Why had he cursed him? These questions tore at his heart. He remembered the moments when he had seen Maeglin as nothing more than a reflection of his own fears and ambitions. He remembered how hatred and jealousy had clouded his mind when Maeglin had dared to flee. He felt he was losing his only son, his own continuation. Wasn't that what had determined his ultimate fate? Why had he joined forces with the hated Morgoth?
"How much madness has seized me?" - He asked, as the shroud that enveloped him began to dissipate. "Mad and blind. I cursed him for seeing him as an enemy, not a son. I saw a threat, not an extension of his blood and spirit."
Tears that hadn't been in his eyes for a long time streamed down his cheeks. He knew it was impossible to atone for what he had done, but admitting his mistakes was the first step toward some kind of relief. For the first time, he realized that his actions had destroyed what he loved most.
He remembered the nights spent in the forge, where fire was his only friend. The fire that he had tamed and that had eventually consumed his soul. Eol was a skilled blacksmith, but his pride and lust for power had turned against him. And he was no better than the cursed Noldor.
Then, in that dark and silent place, Eol knelt and whispered: "Forgive me, Aredhel. Forgive me, Maeglin. I was blinded by my own selfishness and fear of losing you."
Eol stood and looked out at the still waters of the lake. He stared at the reflection of the stars of his native Beleriand and felt a strange relief. All he had left was an eternity in the dark halls of Mandos, alone with his thoughts and memories.
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