A swirl of light bled into our eyes, pulsing with an otherworldly radiance that made the marble beneath our feet shimmer like water. The singing that surrounded us seemed to press closer, no words I recognized but each note resonated in my chest, if I even had a chest here. It was an odd sensation, being so certain I had a body yet not feeling a heartbeat, not drawing breath.
I felt Aruzhan shift beside me. I glanced her way. She was scanning the open space, if you could call it that, hands flexing at her sides. But right now, she was just as lost as I was.
She caught me staring and raised an eyebrow. "Well," she whispered, "go on. You're the one who led us into this mess."
I opened my mouth to fire back some snark, something about how I didn't exactly plan for us to die on a volcano fighting a wraith-lord, but the words died in my throat. A shift of wind, or maybe just a ripple of space, drew my eyes up to the throne again. There was someone there now. Not a slow fade-in, not some dramatic swirl of smoke, just a presence that hadn't been there an instant before. I blinked, struggling to process it.
A tall figure, robed in light, sat upon the throne. Their features were difficult to discern. My eyes wanted to slide off them like they were too bright…. Yet simultaneously, they appeared calm and still, hands resting on the throne's arms. The singing seemed to come from everywhere at once, but now it coalesced around this being, as if the sound was emanating through them, or because of them.
I chanced a look at Aruzhan. She stood stock-still, her jaw set. Her eyes flicked to me and back to the throne. Clearly, she wasn't about to be the first one to speak.
Another presence stirred, then another. More figures stepped out from behind that living moonlight seat, or maybe out of the light itself? They moved smoothly, robed in hues that reminded me of nature and the elements: green, brown, gold, pale blue. The first one I noticed had hair like woven leaves and eyes the color of fresh sap, and it was only then I realized she was the source of that gentle, nature-infused aura I felt prickling at my skin. It reminded me of my Green Lady magic, only… older, Just like something the ents had but far more powerful.
It was the same type of presence I'd felt through Y'ffre's blessings back home, like standing barefoot in a vast forest, when I first met Awalion. Her gaze flicked to me, a curious mix of warmth and sternness. But she said nothing yet.
A soft intake of breath from Aruzhan told me she sensed it, too. The presence of so many powerful beings. She knew we were in the presence of forces beyond mortal comprehension.
Then the figure on the throne, who felt even more immense than the rest, lifted their head. I couldn't see a face, exactly, just a suggestion of features in the shifting radiance. The singing quieted like an orchestra trailing off to let the conductor speak.
"You stand at a crossroads of fate," the throne's occupant said. The voice was male. Its resonance thrummed through the floor, stirring the mist around our ankles. "Much has changed because of your interference."
I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry. "My interference?" I echoed, my voice thin. I hated how small and unsure I sounded, but it was hard not to feel dwarfed here.
"Yes," another figure said, stepping forward. He, if it was a 'he', wore a robe of pale shimmering gold, his hair long and silver-white. "In this world, certain lives and deaths were woven into its tapestry. You aided the Fellowship, but in so doing, you saved those who were meant to die… and condemned others who were meant to live."
I flinched. My mind flicked to the elf I'd killed: Eltariel. And who else? Even beyond that, had I changed the fates of some who would've died if not for me stepping in? I remembered glimpses of orcs that I might've taken out early, or saving Boromir from a fight they might otherwise have lost. Could that ripple out to an entire shift in the tapestry of Middle-earth?
Aruzhan moved a half-step closer to me, folding her arms over her chest. Her stance was regal but tension gathered in her shoulders. "We only wanted to help," she snapped quietly. "Would you have preferred we watch people die instead?"
A flicker passed through the group. I caught the leaf-haired woman's gaze again, she looked… sympathetic? Hard to read, but there was no overt hostility. The one on the throne spoke next, still in that resonant, gently echoing voice. "We do not blame you, Aruzhan of the Falmer." He paused as if tasting her name which caused us both to look at each other. "Nor do we condemn you, Child of the Elder Blood. We simply state the truth. Fate, as it was woven in this realm, has been altered."
One of the robed figures stepped forward, a tall man with hair the color of wheat fields in the sun. His presence seemed warm, yet stern. "The One Ring is gone, undone in the fires of mount doom. Yet another ring remains: a ring that should never have outlived the Dark Lord's dominion." His gaze fell on me, hard and unyielding. "You know of which we speak."
"The Bright Lord's Ring," I said, voice hushed. I felt a lump form in my throat.
"Yes," murmured the leaf-haired woman, stepping forward. "It was meant to be discovered by others, under different circumstances. Eventually, it would have been destroyed as well, had fate followed its proper course." Her green gaze flicked between me and Aruzhan. "But that path has been lost. You have woven a new thread into Arda's Song."
At the mention of "Arda" and "Song," my confusion deepened. I'd heard scraps of lore about Middle-earth, about its creation, not that I remembered my conversation with Gandolf about this. Aruzhan must have caught my uncertain expression, because she spoke up, her tone carefully measured. "I see," she said. "But do not assume we acted with malice. We came from another realm entirely. We didn't even know your… tapestry existed until we were thrust into it."
A mild stir rippled through the gathered figures. The leaf-haired woman turned her gaze upon me again, an undercurrent of curiosity and recognition lighting her eyes. "You carry the touch of another deity, one not of this world. I sense forests, and the magic of living things. We call such power Yavanna's gift here, yet yours differs slightly… akin, yet foreign."
Yavanna… Was that her name? The Valar of nature in Middle-earth, if I recalled bits of the lore. Could she be the one with leaf-woven hair? Something about her aura told me yes. "It's Y'ffre," I said softly, "the Forest Deity of my home world, my teachers land Valenwood… Tamriel, if you know that word. She granted me the 'Green Lady' magic. That's likely what you sense."
A ghost of a smile brushed the leaf-woman's lips, though there was sadness there, too. "Y'ffre," she repeated as if testing the name. "Your presence here, Child of Y'ffre, is both a blessing and a disruption. We can feel the forest's breath in you, yet it lies outside our Song."
The others murmured in low, musical voices. I noticed another figure eyeing me, this one with a stern, almost severe expression. Their robe was the color of deep stone, and their posture made me think of an arbiter or judge. I braced myself, half-expecting a rebuke.
But the golden-robed man spoke again. "Tell us," he said, "of these other marks you bear. One resonates with a dark, chaotic magic, and the other is neutral, a shifting tide of mortal desire."
I knew exactly what he meant. The Mark of Sanguine, a Daedric Prince of debauchery, chaos, and revelry, and the Mark of Dibella, the Aedric goddess of beauty and love. Both were etched into my being from events that I wasn't sure about in Tamriel. "They're… well… they're from different gods," I admitted. "Dibella is a goddess of beauty, passion, and the arts. More neutral than good or evil. And Sanguine…" I hesitated. "He's a Daedric Prince who revels in chaos, hedonism, and pranks."
Aruzhan rolled her eyes, but she nodded in confirmation. "I have never had such marks in the past," she said, voice clipped, "but my twin here collects them somehow," she added pointedly, raising an eyebrow at me. "Some come in handy, though, ascetically at least."
We both fell silent, our attention returning to the robed assembly. I had no idea if they'd be furious or intrigued by the mention of Daedric Princes. If these were the gods or guardians of this realm, hearing about alien deities might sound like a threat or an abomination.
The tallest figure on the throne spoke again, voice soft but resonant enough to command the hall. "Dibella. Sanguine. Y'ffre." He tasted each name, as though measuring its worth. "These powers exist beyond Arda, and so they are unknown to us. Yet you bear them. Such things do not often cross worlds or realms."
Aruzhan cleared her throat, face set in a determined frown. "If this is a problem, then say so. We didn't come here to conquer your realm or pollute your 'Song.' We were simply trying to not die and ended up here."
The leaf-haired woman, Yavanna, presumably studied Aruzhan with a mix of solemnity and compassion. "We do not condemn you. But we must acknowledge what is. The presence of these outside powers has already altered the tapestry." She glanced at me, then at the throne. "Still… you did not act out of malice. You fought to protect those you considered friends. And for that, we hold no anger."
A short silence followed. I felt my shoulders uncoil a bit. That was… a relief, I guess. But then the man in golden robes stepped forward again. "Even so," he said sternly, "we cannot ignore the consequences. The One Ring's destruction is a great joy to all. But more pressing is that second ring: the Bright Lord's Ring. It remains. And the one who should have claimed it for destruction… no longer walks this path."
"So what," Aruzhan said, brows drawing together, "you want us to fix it? That ring nearly got my twin killed. She—" Aruzhan caught herself, then shook her head. "We barely survived it. It was the reason we ended up fighting that wraith-lord in the first place."
Yavanna's expression flickered with regret. "We do not force your hand," she said gently. "But we cannot deny the course events have taken. The ring remains unaccounted for, and it binds itself to no one easily. With Sauron gone, Celebrimbor's forging stands as the last great threat, unless it is neutralized."
"But… we're dead. Right?" I asked, voice tight with a mix of anger and desperation. "How are we supposed to do anything if we're not even alive?"
That got a ripple of reaction from the assembled figures. Some seemed almost sympathetic, others remote, distant. The figure on the throne, Eru Ilúvatar, I guessed, shifted slightly, and the singing behind him changed pitch as if reflecting his mood.
Aruzhan's back went rigid. "If you plan on sending us back," she said tersely, "at least tell us how. And why." Regal or not, she was in no mood to be toyed with.
For a moment, the one on the throne said nothing. Then he inclined his head toward us, a gesture of acknowledgment. "You are at neither the end nor the beginning," he said. "Death has claimed your mortal forms, but your fates are bound in ways that transcend a single realm. We sense that your journey is not yet done. The tapestry of Arda, of Middle earth, has been raveled and torn. You carry the threads of another story entirely."
The golden-robed figure nodded as if to confirm. "If you choose to return," he explained, "know that means you must destroy that ring. You cannot simply walk away from what you have set in motion."
I felt a simmer of anger rise in me again. "You're telling me it's my fault?" I demanded, a sharp edge creeping into my tone. "I tried to do some good. Yes, maybe I was after that ring, but I've risked my life helping Frodo and Sam. I lost two of my Wargs. I nearly got me and twin here killed." I jerked my head toward Aruzhan, who pursed her lips but said nothing. "You can't just drop this guilt trip on me like I maliciously twisted your world."
Silence fell as my words echoed. Aruzhan was at my side, scowling, but she didn't contradict me. She knew the cost we'd paid. The leaf-haired woman's gaze softened, and she stepped closer, her presence like a comforting rustle of leaves in the wind. "None here believe you acted in malice," she said. "But actions have consequences, child of Y'ffre. The question is: what will you do now that you know them?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. A swirl of energy passed through the white marble, the mist thickening near our feet. The enthroned figure lifted a hand, palm out. The singing rose again, a chord that seemed to vibrate through every part of me. My breath caught. It wasn't painful; it was just… overwhelming, like hearing the first sunrise of a new world.
But he did not give any final judgment yet. Instead, his voice threaded through the chorus. "Decide," he said, "how you will answer the call of fate. We shall not end your story unless you choose it." His attention shifted from me to Aruzhan. "Both of you. Even now, your souls are entwined. Two halves of a greater whole."
A hush settled in that moonlit hall, the singing fading to a soft murmur. I stood there, working up the courage to speak again, but my thoughts kept tripping over themselves. Didn't we help them? Doesn't that mean… maybe they owe us?
The notion came out of nowhere, so startling that I blinked. Next to me, Aruzhan must've caught my sudden shift in posture. She gave me a sidelong look, the corners of her mouth dipping. If she could read my mind, she'd probably be preparing a lecture.
Yet the thought took root. We helped destroy the One Ring, I told myself, fought a wraith-lord, and died in the process. Surely that merits something. I mean, everyone else who participated in that quest got their songs sung in taverns or had entire chapters written about them in dusty tomes. Me? My Wargs were gone, I was physically wrecked, well, I had been physically wrecked and now the Valar wanted us to handle an extra ring no one else could be bothered with.
I cleared my throat. "Look," I began, forcing the word past dry lips, "about this ring. I get that we messed with Destiny and all that, but we also saved the Fellowship. Sort of. We risked everything, and frankly…" I paused, summoning a bit more spine. "I think we deserve a reward."
The silence that followed was so deep it felt like it had mass. Next to me, Aruzhan let out a tiny, strangled noise. I risked a glance at her, she looked like she wanted to bury her face in her hands. She did bury her face in her hand, at least half of it, giving me that I can't believe you're doing this stare with the other eye.
From the assembly of robed figures, there was no immediate outcry, though I saw a few of them exchange puzzled looks. The singing drifted in uncertain, questioning harmonies. Yavanna arched her brow. "A… reward?"
I folded my arms, adopting a stance that might pass for confidence if one didn't notice the slight tremble in my knees. "Yes. I mean, obviously, we messed up some stuff. Fine. But we also fixed a lot of it. And if we're about to jump back into Middle-earth, again and deal with this leftover ring problem, then… I just think it's fair we get something to make our lives easier."
Aruzhan muttered something under her breath, probably an exasperated curse. But she didn't interrupt. She knew me well enough to understand that once I got going, I'd see it through.
The golden-robed figure with silver-white hair took a small step closer. He studied me with that calm, ageless scrutiny that made my skin itch. "You speak of balance, then? You desire compensation for your deeds?"
"Yeah, basically," I said, trying not to sound too eager. I reminded myself that these weren't petty lords in some mortal court, they were beings beyond mortal comprehension. So I cleared my throat, adding, "I mean, if that's permissible." A hint of respect, so they wouldn't think I was a total ingrate.
The one on the throne, let a gentle note pass through the chorus. "You have changed the tapestry of Arda, yes but you have also preserved it from a darker fate. In times past, we have been known to bestow gifts upon mortal children who serve the Song."
"I understand," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "It doesn't have to be some world-shaking artifact. Just… something that'll help us when we go back."
Aruzhan finally lowered her hand from her face. She heaved a sigh. "I can't believe you're haggling with the gods," she mumbled. Then, in a louder tone, "Forgive my sister's bluntness. She tends to speak her mind." A slight pause. "But since the question is out there now… maybe we can discuss it, yes?"
Yavanna's green eyes flicked between us, and though her expression was serene, I thought I saw the corners of her mouth quirk. She addressed the throne with a musical lilt that seemed to run through the entire chamber. "Will you grant them the chance to name a boon, Eru?"
Another presence a figure cloaked in twilight-blue robes spoke softly, "They cannot be rewarded for interfering with fate so drastically." Then, after a beat, "But they also acted in earnest, with hearts that sought to protect rather than destroy."
A nuanced murmur wove through the gathering. At last, Eru lifted one hand, settling the matter. "They may name two things, two boons. Whether those boons will be granted, we shall see."
I felt a flash of triumph, though I tried not to show it. Two? Perfect. Aruzhan, meanwhile, looked torn between relief and further face-palming. She pressed her lips together, waiting to see if I'd say something monumentally foolish.
I licked my lips, mind racing. Only two boons had to make them count. "Thank you," I said, inclining my head toward the enthroned figure. "First, I'd like permission for you to… well… interact with this." I raised my hand, flexing my fingers. Or, at least, the intangible spirit version of them. "I have something called a 'storage system.' It's a magical space that lets me store items. Weapons, potions, and bigger things. I'm basically a walking hoarder."
An indescribable hush passed over the assembly. Some of the robed figures exchanged curious glances; presumably, they'd never heard of such a thing. A few seemed apprehensive. Yavanna, at least, tilted her head, interest piqued. "You carry a pocket realm within your soul?"
"That's… one way to put it," I agreed, grateful for her quick understanding. "Anyway, it's a gift from a goddess. If you're willing, I'd like it enhanced." I felt Aruzhan stiffen, probably imagining me going on a mad spree of collecting everything that wasn't nailed down. But I pressed on.
"I want to be able to store living creatures in it, like my Wargs, so they're safe. Or maybe even a small companion if needed. since I have a mindscape I want them to be able to be in there, I'll send in food as needed. I'd also like the system to reduce the weight of anything I store by… a lot. Ten percent of the original weight should be what it should show in my system. It'll make traveling easier."
A crisp intake of breath from somewhere in the line of robed figures told me at least one of them found this request bold. Aruzhan made a small, strangled sound, half-laugh, half-groan. I didn't look at her. I was too focused on the reactions from the Valar.
The golden-robed man glanced at the enthroned figure. "To alter a gift of such a powerful goddess is no small request. It would require weaving new threads into the Song a… synergy with the power that shaped this realm."
I bit my lip. "I know. Plus…" I swallowed, thinking of Lady Fluffy and Pudding, thinking of how it might have helped to keep them safe. "I don't want to lose any more of my family if I can help it."
Silence stretched. I could practically feel the gears turning in the minds of these mighty beings. The singing resumed softly as if the entire realm was pondering the request. A swirl of leaves brushed near my ankles, though there was no wind.
At length, Yavanna inclined her head, glancing at Eru. "This is not a trifling boon," she murmured. "Yet their hearts cling to life and those they protect. Shall we deny them what might preserve that which they love?"
Eru's radiance pulsed once, a soft wave that washed over the hall. For a moment, I saw something like compassion in that shifting light. "Should we allow you this gift," he began, voice echoing, "it will carry responsibilities. You must destroy that ring."
So I just nodded, pressing my palm over my chest in a gesture I hoped looked respectful. "Understood," I said quietly.
Aruzhan exhaled, the sound laced with exasperation. "I suppose that's your first boon," she said, eyeing me with a mixture of wary amusement and resignation. "Please don't request anything more absurd." Her gaze flicked to the enthroned figure. "That is… if it meets your approval."
A faint note of humor danced in the air. One or two of the robed figures might have even smiled. The sense I got was that the Valar were not immune to mortal curiosity and, at times, had encountered stranger petitions. Eru turned his attention back to me. "You asked for two things. Are these two requests combined? The storing of living things and the lessening of weight?"
I shifted uneasily. "Well… it's kind of one big upgrade to my system. But if you see it as two, that's fair, I guess. I'm grateful just to have them considered."
Another pause. The man in golden robes conferred silently with the others, his expression distant. Yavanna studied me closely, perhaps gauging the sincerity of my desire. Then she nodded. "We shall deliberate on this request. If the Song allows, we will weave these abilities into your storage system."
Some of the tension in my shoulders eased. That wasn't an outright no. Aruzhan's face was half-turned away, but I caught sight of her wry smile. She was probably both amused and horrified that I'd basically asked the gods for a bigger bag of holding.
But Eru raised a hand, and the conversation paused. His voice, when he spoke, held a cautionary edge. "Know that each boon ties you further to Arda's fate," he said. "Should you accept these gifts, you accept the burden of seeing this matter through. The Bright Lord's Ring must be destroyed, no half measures, no hesitation. It is the last echo of Sauron's shadow. That is the price."
A pang shot through me. I remembered how fiercely I'd fought to claim that ring for myself, not so long ago. Had I truly been willing to risk everything for that power? Now, faced with these beings' calm but unwavering demands, I realized how precarious that choice had been. But I lost Pudding, and Lady Fluffy, a little voice whispered. I can't keep sacrificing everything for a ring… it was my mistake I was blinded but the idea of using that for my revenge instead of relying on others.
"We understand," Aruzhan said, her tone firm. She cast me a sidelong glance. "We'll discuss our path forward. We'll see it through until the ring is gone."
The enthroned figure's luminous head inclined, acknowledging her vow. The hush settled again, thick and charged with possibility. Yavanna breathed a soft sigh, like wind rustling through distant pines. She studied us both, then said, "We will confer. Should the Song permit, your request will be granted."
Aruzhan nodded, She might have been a princess in her old life, but she wore that mantle of responsibility well. "We won't underestimate it," she promised.
I exhaled, the chance to protect what I cared about, to store living allies safely, to carry supplies for long journeys… it was priceless.
Amid the swirling mist and low, resonant hum of the singing, I caught a flicker of movement near Yavanna's robe, a delicate vine curling in midair, brimming with a greenish glow. She placed her palm gently against it, as though urging patience. The assembly seemed to be waiting, and I realized they were conferring in some silent, telepathic way, or perhaps weaving their decisions into this living Song of Arda.
Aruzhan let out a small sigh, stepping closer so only I could hear her. "I can't believe you asked for that," she hissed. "Of all the possible blessings or powers… you basically demanded a cosmic warehouse."
I shrugged, not even bothering to hide my grin. "Hey, I like my loot. Besides," I added more quietly, "we'll need every advantage we can get if we're heading back. We lost so many things. I don't want to lose more."
Her gaze flicked over me, softening slightly. For a moment, it reminded me that she was my other half, we'd come a long way together. "Alright," she whispered. "Let's see if these… Valar… go for it."
A hush fell over the gathering, and the singing paused as if every note held its breath. Yavanna and the others who had stepped from behind that gleaming throne exchanged glances and subtle nods. Even without words, I sensed their silent communion, that deep resonance echoing through this ivory-and-moonlight plane. Aruzhan stood tense at my side, her brow furrowed. She was the picture of regal composure, but I could feel the roil of her emotions in the set of her jaw. We both waited, hearts in our throats.
Finally, the enthroned figure lifted his head. Light radiated from him in a gentle wave, washing over the hall. Then he spoke, that resonant, layered voice thrumming through the marble beneath our feet.
"Your request has been heard," he said, each word a chord in a cosmic symphony. "We shall grant it. Your pocket realm, your storage system, shall carry the enhancements you seek."
A flicker of relief fluttered through me. I tried not to sag visibly, but part of me wanted to slump against Aruzhan. I did it, I'd pulled off an ask so audacious my twin nearly face-palmed herself into next week. And we'd succeeded. I glanced at her, half-expecting a withering glare, but she merely rolled her eyes in grudging acceptance.
Eru's gaze, if that haze of light could be called a gaze, shifted between us. "Know that by claiming this boon, you have bound yourselves to destroy it."
Aruzhan dipped her head, regal in her acknowledgment. "We understand," she said quietly. "we'll finish what we started."
A faint stir drew my attention, Yavanna was stepping forward. Her leaf-woven hair seemed to move with a life of its own, braided vines swaying around her shoulders. Though her expression was serene, a kindly warmth shone in her eyes. "And there is… one more matter," she began. Her voice was a breeze through springtime boughs, soft yet carrying a quiet power. "A parting gift, if you will, though it may also be a test."
I swallowed, trying not to look too desperate. "A gift?"
She inclined her head. "Your connection to Y'ffre is strong, Child of the Elder Blood. I sense your longing to protect and restore. I feel your sorrow for those you lost, and your wish that no more precious companions be taken from you. You carry guilt and hope in equal measure. In that spirit, I would see you carry a greater measure of nature's grace."
"How do you mean?" I couldn't help but ask.
Yavanna's lips curved in the smallest of smiles. With gentle steps, she closed the distance between us, lifting her sun-kissed hand. A swirl of light-green tendrils shimmered around her palm, coalescing into a softly glowing mark placed on her soul where her heart was. "I shall place upon you the Blessing of the Green," she said, "that your magicka be replenished more swiftly when calling upon nature's gifts, that your spells draw less from your mortal strength. And that your bond with living things deepen, so that you might heal and foster growth where you tread."
I stood there, uncertain, a lump in my throat. "I… I don't know what to say." Was it truly just a gift, or did she hope I'd restore the wounds in Middle-earth once this new crisis was resolved? Probably both. But I wasn't about to refuse.
Aruzhan eyed me from the side and smiled as the mark appeared on her chest too. "You're just going to… give it to us?" she asked, voice carefully level. "No catch?"
Yavanna's mouth curved at the corners. "The only 'catch,' as you call it, is that she must use it wisely. Return to Arda if you will, or find your way to your own realm. The Song does not chain you." Her gaze slid over to Aruzhan.
Aruzhan pursed her lips in that thoughtful, regal way, but said nothing. She reached out, pressing her glowing palm against my chest. There was a brief flare of color, a deep green shot with gold, and a warm rush that spread through my entire being. I gasped. It was like drawing in a breath of forest air after being trapped underground. My vision swam for a second, leaves and vines dancing at the edges of my sight.
Mark of Yavanna
Type: Divine Blessing / Permanent Mark
Source: Bestowed by Yavanna, Valar of Nature
Effects
Nature's Favor
+30% to Maximum Magicka Your overall magicka pool is increased by approximately 30% as a flat increase no matter at what level.
Flourishing Spells
-25% Base Magicka Cost for Nature Magic Nature-themed spells (healing via plant energy, growth acceleration, flora manipulation, etc.) cost 25% less magicka to cast. Additionally, these spells scale more effectively with your skill level, leading to stronger outcomes than normal.
Harmonious Renewal
Accelerated Magicka Regeneration in Verdant Environments When surrounded by natural settings, forests, fields, or even well-cultivated gardens, your magicka regenerates at a modestly increased rate (approximately 15% faster). This increase stacks with other regeneration bonuses you may have.
Flora's Resonance
Heightened Sensitivity to Living Plants You gain an instinctive awareness of nearby plant life. This doesn't grant full communication with plants but offers gentle intuitive "nudges" or warnings (e.g., sensing if a grove is sickly or if an area has been corrupted).
Emblem of the Green
A subtle, glowing vine-like mark that appears on your skin (often the back of your hand, forearm, and chest). The luminescence intensifies when channeling nature-based magic.
Then it receded, coiling deep inside me, it was like a seed. I let out a trembling breath, my heart pounding. "Thank you," I managed, voice hushed. "I... this means a lot."
Yavanna withdrew her hand and offered the barest tilt of her head. "You have walked among forests, yes? Now you may walk with them more closely still."
From behind her, a new voice spoke, quiet, measured. "The time for your return draws near." It was the figure in golden robes, the one who seemed both gentle and stern. "Do you have further words before we send you back to Arda? Once you cross the threshold, you will be bound to your mortal form once more."
Aruzhan straightened, bracing herself. "Just one question: Will our injuries remain? Last we saw, we were… well, dying." She threw me a slight glare. "Because of certain choices."
Yavanna's expression shifted, a hint of sadness there. "Your mortal shells will be restored, but not without scars. Physical wounds can be mended, yet such trauma leaves echoes."
I stared down at my arms, which appeared whole in this spectral environment. My chest felt neither crushed nor burned, but I could almost remember the agony of that final fight. "I'll take scars over death," I said, voice hoarse.
Aruzhan crossed her arms in a regal flourish. "Fine. Scars are a small price to pay for a second chance."
Eru Ilúvatar lifted his hand, and the singing changed, rising in pitch, swirling around us like a tangible current of air. The robed figures parted, forming a half-circle behind the throne. Yavanna stepped to the side, giving us a final, long look. I felt Aruzhan's grip on my elbow. She tightened it slightly, the unspoken question in her eyes.
I wasn't sure. But it didn't matter. We'd made our choice.
The light intensified, pouring from the throne like liquid dawn. A low hum built in my ears. My body, this strange, soul-shaped projection vibrated, as if plucked by invisible fingers. Aruzhan squeezed my arm. I closed my eyes, swallowing the knot of apprehension in my throat.
Then everything dissolved. For an instant, I felt nothingness, no ground under my feet, no air in my lungs, no weight to my limbs. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a raw awareness of the void. Then, abruptly, sensation rushed back. Gravity slammed into me, and I gasped. My lungs expanded in a great gulp of oxygen that tasted of ash and grit. Pain blossomed in my shoulder, my ribs, my broken finger that… ached but wasn't quite broken anymore.
I coughed, tears springing to my eyes at the harsh air scraping my throat. Mount Doom was quieter now—no roaring inferno, no endless quaking but the sky was still a churning mess of dark clouds. A low rumble of distant lava flows lingered in the background. My limbs felt like lead, and when I lifted my hand, I saw the faint outline of a new mark etched along the back of my palm and wrist a swirl of leaves and delicate tendrils glowing with soft green light.
Experimentally, I glanced at a jagged stone and reached for my storage system, half expecting the usual swirl of light. Instead, there was a twist of resonance, a subtle shift in my mind's eye. A new prompt flickered in my thoughts, indicating the item's weight would be drastically reduced upon storage. It worked. My lips twitched in a tiny grin despite everything, we had a real advantage now.
I studied the horizon, where the sky glowed faintly with the dying fires of Mordor. Talion was gone disintegrated by the destruction of the One Ring and Frodo and Sam had presumably escaped. My Warg, Mister Snuffles, was… somewhere with them.
"Now," I said, "we finish what we started.…" My throat caught, as I moved to stand and grabbed the ring that was further up.