Middle Earth: High King of The Avari

I stood at the edge of the forest, feeling the cool wind against my face as it swept through the trees. The stars above Cuiviénen seemed to burn brighter tonight, their light almost blinding in its intensity. It was a strange feeling, knowing that the Great Journey was about to begin. We had all known this day would come, but still, it was hard to grasp that it was finally here.

I felt the weight of my bow on my back my constant companion since I was young. The bow was old, older than even I could remember, and it had always been a part of me. I had learned to hunt with it, to fight with it, and in many ways, it had shaped who I had become. Its string had withstood the pull of countless battles, and the wood was marked by years of use. But tonight, as Oromë's presence loomed closer, I could feel that something was about to change.

I turned to look at my friend, Finwë, standing beside me. His face was alight with excitement, his eyes sparkling with the promise of the journey ahead. It was the same look I had seen in him when we were young—when we would run through the forest, chasing each other beneath the stars. He had always been the one to dream of the unknown, to reach for what lay beyond. And yet, standing beside me now, he was still the same. He had always been my closest friend, the one who understood my heart in ways that no one else could.

"You're sure about this?" Finwë asked, his voice soft but insistent. "The journey, Emlithor, the land of the Valar... it could be the answer to everything we've been waiting for."

I looked at him, and for a moment, I could see the longing in his eyes—the same longing that I had felt, years ago, when Oromë first spoke of the journey to the Blessed Realm. It was tempting, no doubt. To leave behind the shadows that began creeping into our world, to walk beneath the light of the Valar, where peace might be found. But I knew that for me, it wasn't the answer.

"I can't leave, Finwë," I said quietly, turning my gaze back to the horizon where Oromë's golden figure appeared, riding Nahar like a living flame. "This land is my home. I've walked it since I first opened my eyes, felt its heart beating beneath my feet. No journey, no matter how bright, can take me away from it."

Finwë didn't answer at first. I could see the confusion in his face, the sadness, as if he couldn't quite understand. But then, after a long pause, he nodded slowly.

"I don't understand, but I won't fault you for it," he said, his voice quiet but filled with a strength I knew well. "You've always been the one to stay, Emlithor. Maybe that's what makes you who you are. You're not afraid to face the darkness, even when it's alone."

I smiled at him, trying to hide the tightness in my chest. "It's not that I'm afraid," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "It's just... this is where I'm needed. There's something here, in these lands. Something that won't survive if I leave. I can't walk away from it."

Finwë's eyes softened, and for a brief moment, we stood in silence. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying with it the faint sound of hooves—a sound that made my heart beat faster. Oromë was drawing near.

"Then I stand with you," Finwë said, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Even if I go, part of me will always be here, with you. I'll never forget the bond we share, Emlithor. That, no journey can take from us."

Before I could respond, Oromë's golden form was upon us, and the air grew heavy with his presence. The ground seemed to tremble as Nahar, his steed, came to a halt before us, and the brilliance of the Vala's light filled the space around us, making the night seem like daylight. My heart raced—not with fear, but with an undeniable certainty. This was the moment I would decide my path, and there would be no turning back.

Oromë's eyes scanned the gathered Elves, but they settled on me with a knowing gaze. "You remain, Emlithor?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding, yet somehow kind.

I nodded, not trusting my voice for a moment. "I do. I cannot leave these lands, Oromë. The stars are my guide, and these forests are my home."

Oromë studied me for a long while, as though weighing my words, then finally, a smile touched his lips. "Few would choose this path, but I respect your decision. Your heart is strong, and your resolve even stronger. That is a rare thing."

He dismounted and came closer, his gaze never leaving mine. He looked down at my bow, resting on my back. "It has served you well, I see. A weapon like this is not born in a day, nor is it forged by mere hands. You are tied to it, as it is tied to you."

I felt my breath catch in my throat as he stepped forward, his hand raised over the bow. I didn't move, though my mind raced. Oromë had the power to reshape destiny itself, and in that moment, I felt something stir within me, as though the very fabric of the world was shifting.

"This bow," Oromë said, his voice quiet now, "has seen the storms of the world. And it will see many more, should you choose to stay and protect what is yours. From this day forward, it shall be known as Raumo—a storm of the heavens, unyielding and unbreakable. Whenever you draw it, let the sound of thunder be your call to arms, and let none stand against you."

His words were like a thunderclap in my chest. A blessing, a gift, and a burden all at once. I felt the bow tremble beneath my fingers, as though it were alive, as though it knew what was to come.

"I will not fail you, Oromë," I said, my voice steady now. "I will protect these lands."

He gave me a solemn nod, then turned to the others, his presence shifting like a storm cloud on the horizon. I felt the pull of his departure as the Elves began their journey, their footsteps growing fainter with each passing moment.

Finwë was the last to leave. He glanced at me one last time, his expression unreadable. "May the stars guide you, my friend," he said, before turning to follow Oromë.

And so, I stood alone beneath the stars, the storm within me building with every breath, knowing that the path I had chosen was mine to walk. My bow, Raumo, was a part of that storm. And with it, I would face whatever darkness awaited.