Isildur
"How has this never been discovered?" He asked Maple. She had lead him to a weirwood grove deep in the forest.
"This is where my people and I speak with them. We have never worshipped them but men mistook our veneration for worship and followed our example." Maple said, not quite answering his question.
Isildur beheld the weirwood tree. Its bark was white but in his own mind its beauty paled in comparison to the White Tree. Unlike the sapling of Nimloth, the leaves and sap of the weirwood were as red as blood and a face was carved upon the trunk of the tree. The face was carved to resemble one in mourning and it made Isildur feel unsettled.
He shuddered. He had been before weirwoods many times before but never had he felt so keenly that presence, the presence of something he could not see and yet could sense was ancient, primal and old. Isildur swore he could see the eyes of the tree moving to watch him.
"Place your hand on the tree," Maple ordered.
Reluctantly, Isildur obeyed. The moment he did so, he could feel something reaching out and pulling his very soul, panicked he tried to let go of the tree, but their hold was strong and he felt his spirit being pulled in. His world fading to darkness.
When Isildur awoke he found himself in a familiar place. He would always be able to recognise the leaves of the trees of Andustar. In the distance he could see it. Andúnië
But his hometown looked not like how it had been when he had been a young man of fifty. Before Pharazôn had commanded his family to remove to Rómenna. It looked exactly like how he remembered it.
"Forgive me, I had felt it would be best to speak to you in a place you were comfortable in. I hope that my illusion of it is accurate"
The voice came from a fair lady before him. He could have easily have mistaken her for one of the Eldar who had come secretly to the house of his grandfather long ago but she had an air of highness greater than even the Elves and she spoke with a voice of power.
"No, the illusion is perfect. For a moment I had thought myself back in Númenor. Why? Who are you and why do you taunt me so with a land I will never see again?" Isildur demanded.
"My apologies, you may call me Yvaine. I needed you to know the consequences of ignoring my words. She gestured him to look back at the city
But it was no longer Andúnië. In its place was Annúminas and he could see a giant wall of water rolling in from the Sunset Sea.
Please. Don't make me witness the destruction of my home again.
Before the water hit, the lady swiped her hand and the vision was dispelled. A large mirror replaced it.
"Come look into the mirror," she said. Swiping her hand once more, the mirror shimmered to reveal to Isildur the image of a great choir, their voices the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.
Could it be?
"This is the Music of the Ainur, at the beginning of time. It is when Arda was created and all other worlds were made in its image."
Seeing Isildur's look of confusion, she continued, "Melkor brought discord to the music, laying the roots for the Marring of Arda and because of that discord so too was this world and all other worlds of creation marred." The images in the mirror changed to show him even as she spoke the words. "There were some who had attuned their music to the theme of Melkor in the beginning and it is through them that evil spread throughout all of Creation. One is upon this world and his intentions toward your people are not kind."
"Eight we were, the youngest and perhaps the least of the Ainur. After the creation of Arda, many among the Ainur began asking for more worlds of their own and Eru granted them those worlds. We too sought a world of our own and so he created for us this world. Our power was not enough to shape it and so we had to infuse the world with our very essence, weakening ourselves but giving it life. And for a time we had harmony and prosperity.
Until at some point after our creation, we saw them. The Elder Kindreds, the older and more magical races of this world. They had been created by Eru and when they awoke we took notice of them and many of them became our followers. For the one thing the Ainur have not is the power to create true life, for the ability to do that lies with Eru alone.
Yet our harmony was not too last. There was strife between us and our loyal servants followed us into our foolish wars with each other.
It was almost too late before we had realised what we had done. In our struggle, we had squandered most all the power we had left and we had ruined our work, throwing our once peaceful world into turmoil.
Aggrieved at the destruction we had caused, we withdrew from the world, residing in places unknown, unseen, and unreachable by any other. We swore never to use our full power again, lest we ruin our work beyond our ability to mend. No longer did we walk the world in forms visible to lesser beings.
Twelve hundred years ago, men crossed the Arm of Dorne into Westeros. They were the youngest Kindred and had woken in the aftermath of our struggle. They warred with the Children, slaughtering them and burning the sacred weirwoods. Desperate, the Children called upon us to smite the First Men invading Westeros, but we refused. By Eru's laws we were not allowed to harm any of the Kindreds. The Children then begged us to shatter the Arm of Dorne. Taking pity on them, we did so. The breaking of the Arm did not save the Children however, for Men were already too entrenched in Westeros and more had begun crossing on ships.
They begged us to shatter another piece of land, this time the Neck. But our power was fading, and some of us refused to aid the Children, and so the Neck was flooded and not destroyed. With our power spent, the Children grew more and more desperate and in their desperation, they foolishly trusted the traitor.
The eighth of the Ainur of this world. When we entered this world, each of us had one part, a domain of sorts, in which our power was strongest over. My power was strongest over the living things of the world, the trees and plants, all of them were dear to my heart.
My siblings chose other domains, the traitor's domain was winter and darkness. Snows and ice were his ilk and the dark nights his strength.
Even at the beginning, he was the strongest among us, and while we whittled away our power shaping the world, he hoarded his, intentionally infusing the least power into the world and slyly manipulating the rest of us to waste what strength we had left in our useless struggles. When he saw the Children so desperate, he took the opportunity. In disguise, he walked amongst them and revealed to them a way to create a powerful army to protect them.
Following his instructions, they captured many men and using a dark and twisted ritual they pierced their hearts with dragonglass and turned them into monsters. No longer were they men, now they were creatures of ice and snow, their power drawn from his domain. By the time the army was complete however, the Children had made peace with the First Men. No longer needing them, the Children ordered their army to the Far North, where they would slumber forever, never to disturb the peace.
It is perhaps ironic that the Children had never realised that the allegiance of their army had never rested with them but rather with him, the Maia whom they drew their power from. Amassing strength in the Lands of Always Winter, they descended upon the world in the Long Night eight hundred years ago.
It was a dark time. The very seas began freezing over. Men froze to death in their homes, mothers smothered their babes for they had no food to feed them. An entire generation of men lived and died under the shadow of winter and the world was shrouded in darkness. And they came in the midst of it, raising the dead and making them their soldiers with foul necromancies taught to them by him. Men called them the White Walkers, pale and inhuman, an ethereal beauty hiding the malice in their hearts.
For the betrayal of our brother, I and the other Maia struck his name from the memory of all in the world. No longer would we call him by name, for he had lost that right. From then on we would refer to him only as the Other. And in time, those who served him became known as the Others.
The world was dying, held in the thrall of winter. The rest of us banded together and we were able to banish him to a prison beyond the world even as his servants were defeated by the Kindreds. Yet in doing so, we had used almost all the power we had left, and now we dare not take physical form, lest our strength fail us entirely.
The last of our strength we use to hold him at bay, yet he remains stronger than us, and there will come a day when we can no longer keep him imprisoned. It will not be in your lifetime, nor the lifetime of your children or grandchildren, but it will come. When that day arrives, he will return and he will try once again to cover this world in eternal darkness.
Isildur Elendillion, if you fail, if your people do not remember the true threat to the North, then all is lost. Our power is spent. When he returns, we will have not the strength to stop him.
We, the Maia of this world beseech your aid."
Isildur looked absolutely shocked by the magnitude of the tale told to him. Yet, he made his decision swiftly. He opened his mouth and answered.
Shortly after the Battle of Steelbow Hill, Isildur and his army marched on the Crag where House Westerling surrendered to them. With their submission, Isildur marched on the Banefort where the garrison, led by Morgon's younger brother refused to submit. After a brief siege, the Arnorian army assaulted Banefort and the line of House Banefort was doomed to die when the last Banefort was sent to the Wall. Banefort was thus seized by Isildur for his royal father and in later years it became known as Fornost, Northern Fortress.
Upon their return to Annúminas, the army was greeted with cheers and a hero's welcomes. Isildur however did not accept any adulation or praise but instead rode straight to Amon Erain. There he spoke with his father and brother in a cloistered room for many hours. Witnesses note their faces being grim and tired when they finally departed.
The next day, King Elendil made a proclamation to all Arnor. Revealing to the people that they had been contacted by the Ainur who revealed that the Dúnedain were no longer in Arda and warned them of a very grave threat beyond the Wall. The stories they had heard from the First Men of the Others and the Long Night were all true and thus from that day onward the Kingdom of Arnor would give aid to the Night's Watch. As part of Elendil's proclamation he also decreed protection for the Children of the Forest and their weirwood trees.
The Ainur of the world, are seven Maiar, representatives of Eru. Each of them are very powerful beings and although their power is strongest over their own domain, each has a limited ability to influence everything in the world.
The first was Yvaine. She was the Maia responsible for the growth of fruits and the tender of the forests. She was commonly associated with Mother Nature by many. Diane was the second. She was the Huntress of the Maiar. Wild animals and dogs are close to her heart. She never wastes anything she hunts and is displeased with those who do. Third was Valkas, a great craftsman and smith. It had been he who had fashioned the mountains of the world and his domain is all the earth and all that lies below, the metals, gems and rocks of the world. Fourth was Cala, the Lady of the Skies. All the winds and airs are her servants and storms are her wrath upon the world. Her weapons are the wind and lightning. Fifth was Arren, Lord of the Sea. Master of all the waters in the world, be they in the oceans, lakes or rivers. The sixth was Aurelian. His domain was over warmth, fire and light. He was often associated with the sun. The seventh and last was Seline. Her domain was over the moon and stars of the night sky. Like Aurelian she also had command over light.
There was also a last eighth Maia. His name has never been discovered. His domain was the ice and snows of winters and the darkness of night. Long ago, he betrayed his brethren and he and his servants covered the world in darkness in the Long Night. To differentiate him from his followers, the Others or White Walkers, he is referred to as the Great Other. According to legend, the other seven used the last of their power to banish him to a prison beyond the world. He is prophesised to one day, return to the Lands of Always Winter, and cover all the world in a second darkness.