Right, another chapter. I felt I needed to get one out for y'all. Felt fair, I've been waiting for other fanfics to release chapters so why not do another chapter of my own? So this chapter is kinda rushed, not really, there's a lot and a little in this arc of Ghiscar. We have new characters coming in like Sauron, we've got ringwraiths, and we've got the Valyrians conquering the Ghiscari empire in the first war instead of the five long ones that I was not going to cover. There are going to be two or three more arcs I'm going to write before we get to the doom of Valyria and the conquest of Westeros, and I plan on going all the way to 300 ac and who knows, maybe beyond that, what do I have planned, you'll never know, and who knows, I hope I can finish this fic. I don't want this fic being to short, and I don't want these arcs being short but I feel if I drag it on too much it gets boring. SO I WANT YALL TO COMMENT IF I SHOULD MAKE THESE ARCS LONGER. anyway, leave a comment on what you thought of the fic, and in the next arc were gonna go take a glance back at Westeros and see what shenanigans Melkor is gonna do to shake up cannon and Forevor alter the seven kingdoms.
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The City of Ghis was blanketed in flame. Its walls crumbled under the onslaught of boulders and fire that reigned from the sky. Legions of orcs and men slaughtered the Ghiscari Lockstep Legion. And Dragons burned the harpies, sending them to the city like stars falling from the sky.
Melkor and Aina walked the streets of the city. Bodies of the Dead lay around them, some burned to unrecognizable husks, others with all their blood sucked from them like shriveled raisins, or butchered and bisected forms scattered and crushed by the assaulting army.
Melkor form was clad in obsidian Black armor, and a cloak pricked from the night sky donned at his back that billowed with the howling storm that raged above.
His pale complexion Marked him as a foreigner not accustomed to the scorching sun of Ghis. Atop his head of Silky Black hair laid a crown of Iron, its points sharp as blades that pointed to the sky.
In his right hand, he gripped Grond, the Hammer of the Underworld, and in his left hand, he held the hand of his wife, Aina, the Light that shone throughout the night of Ea.
Her stature was only a foot shorter than Her Beloveds, and her form cast a light, perfectly contrasting Melkor shadow that encompassed him.
Aina wore a Breastplate of steel across her front, and her legs were clad in breaches and armor, but in her wake, she was clad in a silken cloak of blue like the sky in the day.
Her beautiful white hair swayed with the storm as it hammered against the world, an unnatural storm in every sense.
Melkor felt no joy for the bloodshed he witnessed.
He no longer reveled in the death, the despair of the innocent.
But he did not feel anguish, did not feel, sadness like his brother did in the war.
He had felt those feelings only a handful of times, and those times had revolved around his family.
He could not give a truthful answer anymore on why he had started this war. His only response, when questioned on his reasoning, was simply to lie, just as he had done so many times with the Ainur.
Melkor could not find a definite reason for his continuation to lie. He did not like it anymore, to lie. It only brought pain and suffering to those he loved.
This war had endangered his dear daughter too many times, and he could not blame anyone but himself.
A lie started this war, and a lie will end this war.
"My love, what troubled you so" Aina's ethereal voice soothed Melkors aching soul. His worries washed away as he looked into the fiery eyes of his wife.
"This war my love, I wish it over. My mind. Indeed, it is not the same as it once was, not as erratic, not as lost. But I fear that the peace I found with you and Fae is disappearing. I am losing myself once again, and I worry I shall lose you just as I had all those years ago."
Aina's smile never faltered as she looked into the aching eyes of her husband. Her hand rested against his cheek, soothing his fears. "You are overcomplicating things as always. We are staying right here my love, and any who think they can break our family apart will face a force stronger than nature itself."
Melkor smiled down at his loving wife and took her lips for himself.
"YOU!" A loud shriek broke the loving couple's moment of love.
Melkor and Aina's eyes locked onto the figure that had interrupted them.
There in the rain and ash stood a woman of ethereal beauty. She looked much like a noble lady of the Ghiscari but gave off a sense of divinity.
Melkor strode forward, hammer over his shoulder. "Ah, I know you. You're the Harpy. Sauron told me of you. What was your name again."
Zuulmar clenched her fist. This was the god she had heard tales of, the dark monolith that moved across the land like the night sky.
Zuulmar straitened her posture. Her face shifted from a storm of fury to a sea of calm. "My name is Zuulmar, and I rule over this Empire in all but name, and I will give you this one chance to turn your armies back, and return home so you can prepare for the coming storm I will bring. Should you refuse, I shall make your torment all the worse."
Aina watched her husband. Just as he had spoken moments ago, his tone, and personality shifted.
"No, I don't think I will turn my Forces around. Your people have been granted a swift death. I will not torture them. But I will see this Empire fall under my boot."
A great roar of fire resounded out from beyond the crumbling walls of the Capital of the once mighty empire.
Melkors eyes turned to the wall, his face donning a cruel smirk that he would always wear during the War of Wrath
"And here comes my boot."
The walls Imploded under the dragon's charge, his four legs so unlike the Valyrian Dragons taking him to his next enemy.
"That dear Zuulmar, is Glaurung, the first dragon I created. But he will not be your opponent this day."
Zuulmars aura flared. The wind that howled through the storm gathered around her. "And who shall be my Opponent, you?'
Melkor snorted "No, if we were to face, well, it would be terribly boring."
Zuulmars anger cracked under the perfect form she tried to portray around the mortals. "Do not underestimate me."
"No, I'm not underestimating you, I'm actually probably overestimating you. But enough of who's stronger than who. I need to make sure Glaurung isn't going about causing to much damage, and that the orcs are in line. So I'll be leaving you with my chief Lieutenant, Sauron, and I'm sure you'll remember him, except he went by another name."
Melkors tone had changed. It was no longer the calm loving husband of Aina, but a cruel conniving eccentric war god who played with his enemy.
As Melkor finished, he closed his crimson eyes, and the world around him shifted.
A great eye of fire emerged in front of him and out of the darkness strode a monolith of darkness clad in armor.
In the figure's hand, he held a mace. And as the fire died and only the figure remained next to his master, the world shifted again.
Melkor and Aina no longer stood before Zuulmar, all that was left was Melkor's chief Lieutenant.
"Where has that fiend gone to?" Zuulmar demanded.
The figure strode forward. Stopping only meters away from the harpy goddess.
"Lûg krimpûrz ghâshûrz bûrz-mul, ûk-dûr, thak-krîm u-bûrz."
The figure's voice was that of death. It sounded like all the pain and suffering of Zuulmars people had been encrusted into his words. It felt dark, and it felt wrong.
Zuulmar's once perfect posture and form of control shattered under Sauron. She had approached Melkor for she felt no true power role off of him, no true strength. But this figure, he gave of a sense of despair, of certain death.
She could not fall into despair, she was a goddess, the most powerful of her pantheon. She was the conqueror of worlds, the Lightning queen, She who rules the Heavens.
Zuulmars form shifted, and no longer stood the beauty of the Ghiscari Emperors. Now stood Zuulmar the Harpy, the goddess of Ghis.
Her form now was covered with feathers. Her arms were now wings, her legs and hands talons.
"You shall face the MIGHT OF THE HARPY!"
Zuulmar bolted forward, talon outstretched ready to cleave the armored figure in two. She moved faster than light, no being could stop her, and no god that had been sent to this world could match her in speed. Her power was beyond any save for those of the North and the one of the Sea.
Zuulmars attack never reached her intended mark though. Her talon had been grabbed by the figure's gauntlet-clad hand.
"Lûgûr krîzg" The figure's voice came out just as it had earlier. Despair sunk into her soul. Her form one confident and strong, now began to shrink under Sauron's voice.
Sauron threw the Harpy. Her form crashed to the ground in a roar of thunder. And he spoke those dark words once more.
"Khamûl, kâsh! Lûgûr ûk thak."
Zuulmar recognized only one word he spoke. A name, a name of the boy she had cared for as a son, the boy she had envisioned conquering the very world.
A dark shadow descended down to the right of Sauron. his form was draped in a cloak of night, his arms and legs clad in armor, and he donned a horned helm.
Zuulmars eyes widened at the helm she had commissioned many years ago as a gift for the young Emperor.
Zuulmars face changed from surprise to cold unbridled fury.
She dashed at Sauron faster than before. Her strikes landed against the monolith of armor. Slash after slash. Sauron was unable to react to the sheer speed of Zuulmar.
Channeled her powers over the sky and storms. Her gaze looked upwards, and the largest bolt of lightning came crashing down onto Sauron.
Zuulmar jumped away from the bolt. She gathered her breath as the dust settled from the explosion. She knew Sauron was still alive, a feeling she felt she just knew.
But she had thought he would be in some form injured. Her surprise grew when the Monolith stood standing exactly where she had called forth the lightning, with nothing but dust and dirt marred his form.
Before Zuulmar could gather her strength again, Sauron Disappeared. She could not see the attacks, but she felt them. Blow after blow, she felt like she was being pounded against the ground, a being who served someone had such strength, how powerful did that make his master?
As that thought crossed her mind, the blows stopped, and Sauron stood towering over her.
Fear gripped her heart, and she did the only thing she could think of.
Zuulmar sped away as fast as she could. She had to reach the mountain peaks. She had to reach her family.
Her speed allowed her to reach her home in mere seconds. She needed her family, and the other gods, for she could not face this enemy alone.
But as she reached the summit, a sight of horror greeted her.
All around her lay the misshapen forms of her family.
Her children were dead and dying, and her husband's throat clutched in the grip of the assailant.
A form of armor much like Saurons stood in the center of the carnage. His hammer coated in the blood of her family, his helm masking his face. But she could recognize him no matter the form.
Melkor stood atop her home, a place she felt safe, and happy, that now laid in ruin.
Before she could even utter a word, two cold pale hands wrapped around her throat and snapped her neck.
The great harpy is now dead at the hands of Aina and her Husband.
Aina's eyes looked at the shocked look that lay frozen across the harpy's form "Shame, I feel if we had gotten to know them better, our families would have been friends."