Thoughts of The Lost One

It started in Moria, in the darkest depth of Khazaduum-- Looking back, I supposed a lot of things started there for the kinship.

Malgamorie had been found. The dark force behind nature's upheaval, the disappearance and madness of the Rune Keepers, the force who had commanded the spider, Nilithion, who our kinship had slain in the peaks of the Misty Mountains-- He was the source of so much corruption and evil, and yet he was not what we had expected. Through the mouths of his slaves he had painted himself up to be a Balrog, but now we stood before him, and he was nothing of the sort:

We could not see his face. He was huddled in the shadow of a rock and did not so much as look up to greet us, but we knew he was a man.. Or rather, the shriveled remains of one. Indeed, what we beheld before us was little more than a corpse, a skeleton wrapped in a thin layer of papery flesh. He was long decayed, more so than many wights I have ever seen. The spongy growth of the lake and dust of the earth had long since settled on his remain. If he was even breathing it was imperceptible!
Yes, to our horror, we discovered Malgamorie was dead in all but his mind, which he had used to enslave and torment. Some in the company were disappointed that the body of our foe was so pitiful, and recognizing it, Malgamorie tried to play on their sympathy.. But he could not fool us. He was a wretched victim of his own maliciousness: The dark magic with which he had surrounded himself had consumed him completely, yet devoid of mercy would not grant him death. His soul was still tied to the corpse whilst his mind had plagued the land above Moria and far beyond...

How often, I thought, we had come to these depths during our time in Moria. How often we had passed this lake, seen this stone on the distant shore, and walked right by our enemy time and time again-- All because we sought something of towering height and incredible strength. We thought our foe's physical form would be as mighty as he claimed. We had believed him, fallen prey to his lies.
He had eluded our detection, sickened the land, maddened the animals, stolen our friends, he had caused misery and fear... But he was nothing. He had no physical strength at all. It was deceit that gave him power. It wasn't that he had been undefeatable, we just believed him so, and thus he was able to work his dark magic to our manipulation and suffering. We believed he was powerful and therefore overlooked the weakness we sought desperately for.

...As the corpse was vanquished by phoenix fire, Malgamorie fell forever into the darkness he had sold himself to. He would never torment the world again, and his absence was immediately apparent: The captive minds were freed, speaking to us in their own words for the very first time. Tension, it seemed, was released from the walls of Moria; as if a festering thorn had at last been removed, and real healing could begin. ...Moria will be reclaimed. I have no doubt of that. The mountain itself knows and awaits it. Thus our kinship returned to the surface, soaking in the sunlight they had so longed for during the bitter months of our hunt. The fresh air was welcomed into their lungs. They and the world around them were ready for much needed healing. They departed...

...But I stayed.
I stayed under the pretense of aiding the dwarves in reclaiming their great kingdom, but the truth was my eyes had been opened: Malgamorie was just one. One who stewed long, but one nonetheless. One one of the darkness' many pawns. The darkness had other followers yet hidden from us-- I say this not in despair, but in realization. For in Malgamorie it was made clear to me, Malgamorie embodied what the darkness really was: A lie.
It built itself up to be something amazing and powerful, something that promised it could never be defeated, but was really only an opportunistic leech. Something weak that relied on neglectful glances in misdirected directions in order to carry on it's sneakery unhindered. ...And I knew it would be back. It lusted after many in our kinship. I had seen it pulling at the mind and heart of my mentors, Apostos and Drakelvin. It pulled at my brother Tarvhos, at Dekota, at Ardonali, at Lartenell, and at others I have yet to meet. It is not because they are bad people, it is because the darkness wants them and their power. It tells them they can never be good enough, it says they were born in the dark and in the dark they must remain.. I have heard them when they voice their doubts. I know what it tells them. And I know even if they individually can not contribute anything of significance to the darkness' strength, as long as they are bound in it's web, neither can they contribute to the light in which their potential would be unhindered. It is a struggle. They need to shut their ears to it's whispers.

...As do I.
I am constantly reminded that I am a descendant of a dark wizard, the son of a man who heeded darkness' lies, apprentice to those who once succumbed to darkness for themselves. My history is spotted with unseemly black marks... I will not let this define me as other have.. I left Moria shortly after my kinship did, but secretly and in the opposite direction. I am a lore master, but there is no one here who can teach me how to use my magic. I have to teach myself.

~Taivian