So - like this. Eons before wheeling time; epochs under Trees, Sun, and Moon. Finally, his fell form - threads of darkness, copper from forges at the beginning of the World, archaic robes of Númenor, fire from devastating wars of Wrath - is collapsing in on itself. It’s his fate then - to fail, to fall. So many names over so many incarnations merge, shattering into black dust. He billows up, disintegrating - a cloud of rage, shame, and despair. His pride, all his efforts - forgotten. Ruined and nameless. Like this, then, is how it ends - blown away like seedlings by the sweet Spring breezes.
Chapter End Notes:
Written for B2MeM 2017. Prompt: Darkness falling.