PREFACE.

Good wishes, fellow reader.

You were audacious enough to be drawn to this story of the times of old. Most likely by it's name you were beckoned, for Turin is a name none can forget or disregard. But I must warn you, dear friend, for this is a tale filled with pain, dreadful fates and doom; and your heart and mind may be greatly troubled if you stay and listen to this account. So true this is, that no mortal man is supposed to know of these facts, and they were kept secret up to this day; but to me they were revealed, in dreams and sudden enlightenment. Why was I chosen? I can't tell. Perhaps because of my stubborn resolve to delve into the secrets of old; or perhaps because my heart is bruised enough to endure what I witnessed.

Still here? Brave you are! But do not come to me whining later, holding out to me your aching heart and your anxious mind; and don't say I did not warn you, for I did.

Turin. You are probably familiar with his name, many are. He was the greatest of mankind heroes; the bravest, the strongest, save maybe for his father Hurin Thalion; but he was also the darkest of heroes, and the one who's story transcends for being the most tragic of all.

Wronged, persecuted and cursed he was by the foulest of all evils, Melkor, called Morgoth, the first wickedness, The Black Enemy of Iluvatar's children.

But of all this you probably already know, and I shall not waste your time telling you of Turin's earthly life; for many story tellers can give you every detail of it. But there is a part of his story and destiny few know of, for it is beyond his life, and even pass his death; the prophecy of his return. On this I will elaborate, for only a fraction of it was revealed to mankind; but to me it was fully exposed, and if you are patient and bold enough to stay with me through this adventure, then it shall be revealed to you as well.

As follows is the bit revealed to men, as found in the book of lost tales, "The Second Prophecy of Mandos." And it foretells the Dagor Dagorath, the final battle against Melkor that will cease the world at the end of days:

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Thus spake the prophecy of Mandos, which he declared in Valmar at the judgment of the Gods, and the rumor of it was whispered among all the Elves of the West: When the world is old and the Powers grow weary, then Morgoth, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of the Night out of the timeless void; and he shall destroy the Sun and the Moon.

But Earendil shall descend upon him as a white and searing flame and drive him from the airs. Then shall the army for The Last Battle be gathered on the fields of Valinor. In that day, shall the light come from the west, and the darkness from the east; on one side, covering the land with the brilliance of Aman, the army of the Valar; on the other side, trampling over everything beneath their feet, Morgoth and his hordes, for every foul creature shall be awaked from the depths of earth to battle along with their master. Even the line of Morgoth's drakes shall wake and be released, for it is written: "....they lie imprisoned in the Caves of Forgotten, until the Last Battle and the Day of Doom."

In that day, Tulkas shall strive with Morgoth, and on his right hand shall be Eonwë, and on his left Turin Turambar, son of Hurin, returning from the Doom of Men before his final departure, and his last deed within the Circles of the World will be that the Black Sword of Turin shall deal unto Morgoth his death and final end; and so shall the children of Hurin and all Men be avenged.

Thereafter shall Earth be broken and remade, and the Silmarils shall be recovered out of Air and Earth and Sea; for Earendil shall descend and surrender that flame which he hath had in keeping. Then Fëanor shall take the Three Jewels and bear them to Yavanna Palurien; and she will break them and with their fire rekindle the Two Trees, and a great light shall come forth. And the mountains of Valinor shall be leveled, so that the light shall go out over all the world. In that light the Gods will grow young again, and the Elves awake and all their dead arise, and the purpose of Iluvatar be fulfilled concerning them. But of Men in that day the prophecy of Mandos does not speak, and no Man it names, save Turin only.

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Now you know of the prophecy; now you know what has been revealed only to a few. But I, in my inquisitiveness wanted to know more as soon as I found those words many years ago. For the chronicles of this ancient Middle Earth fascinated me deeply, and though I knew how it first came to be, its forging, growth and struggles; I did not know how it all ended, and ever since that day I delved, and asked, and thought, and dreamed about this foretelling, for my heart grew heavy over it, and I had no peace. My days went by in constant and unrelenting deliberation, seeking as much as I could find, building in my mind the solution for the riddles in my darkness.

But it all came to a strange conclusion, only two months ago, as in a dream the rest of the prophecy and the truth about the end of Middle Earth was revealed. Strange conclusion I say, for the revelation did not bring peace but further tribulation to my soul, as the full extent of the prophecy proved to be more disturbing and intricate than the brief glance revealed thus far.

Read on, dear friend. Open your mind, heart and soul for I shall open mine.

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TURIN'S PROPHECY.

The White Lady of the Galadhrim stood unmoved upon the heart of Caras Galadhon, gazing down on her mythical mirror that still revealed the thoughts of the Powers of the World. For the first time in countless centuries, she shivered, as she could not discern what the mirror showed her, and her soul was overwhelmed with uncertainty.

"I have never seen you so troubled," came a deep, smooth voice from behind her, and she turned around to find Lord Celeborn staring at her with his pale, ageless face.

"Never before had I seen such dark and baleful mists looming these lands," Galadriel said, her piercing eyes going back to the blurry shapes in the mirror. "Something beyond my understanding draws near, but I cannot see the where, the when or the whom. It is all confounded in the mirror, as if the very Powers of the world could not comprehend."

Celeborn walked up to his beloved wife, covering her cold shoulder with a comforting hand. He gently pulled her away from the visions in the water. "Not all the answers are found in this mirror of yours. Sometimes we must also look to the mirrors the Powers left in other places."

Galadriel scrutinized her husband's face, and saw the same uncertainty she felt in her soul reflecting in the depths of his eyes. "You have seen signs yourself.... Where?"

"You know how my kin delights in the stars," he started, taking her hand and leading her to a clear in the midst of the thick woodland. "Tonight I've looked up to the great and black parchment that is the starlit night, and signs never before seen were shown to me. Behold!" he whispered reverently, as his hand pointed to an unusually bright group of stars shinning boastfully against the dark sky.

"Menelmakar!" gasped the White Queen. Suddenly, the visions in the mirror became clear.

"Yes. The great Swordsman of the Sky. Its path across the firmament has changed. Now it has chosen the summit, where it has lingered for two moons now, and its stars shine brighter than any other, specially the ones of his belt." The elf Lord paused and his eyes lowered upon his wife's. "You know the fate of this gathering of stars; you know what the prophecy spoke."

Galadriel allowed her eyelids to fall upon her all-seeing eyes, and sighed slowly to answer, her words filled with doom. "Yes. It is said of the constellation Menelmakar, with his shining belt, that it would be a sign of Turin Turambar, who should come into the world, and a foreshadowing of the Last Battle that shall be at the end of Days."

"The prophecy is clear, as is now the sign that leads to its completion."

"But it cannot be! The time is not yet right."

Celeborn smiled weakly. "And who are we to say or know when the time is right? Not even the Powers know; only Iluvatar in his wisdom can tell the day and the time."

"Indeed! But it does not make sense. The time of men has not yet started, and men are supposed to rule over the land for an age before the end arrives. How can this be if their time is yet to come?"

Celeborn remained silent, unable to make sense of it himself. For hours they stood silent and still, staring at each other, trying to find an answer. Finally, the Noldorim Queen spoke.

"I cannot pretend to discern the thoughts of Iluvatar, but my heart cannot be fooled. Something dark and dreadful is behind these signs, this is not the work of The One."

Celeborn took her hand, linking her fingers with his. "I'd rather disagree with you, but I cannot. My heart tells me the same, and I can also feel the shadows haunting the world of men. But what are we to do? Our destiny is to sail with the rest of the ring bearers and our departure is now at hand. The elves will take no part in this matter, for the few left in these shores will have no leadership or guidance. Scattered they will live until they decide to sail away."

"No," said the Queen, her voice stern with resolution. "We cannot turn away from this. The elves are obliged to help the world of men, for they are our young brethren."

"Would you choose then to stay in these shores and forsake your fate? Would the rest of the elf Lords do the same? You know all the rulers of the Eldar are appointed to sail with the ring bearer, only months from this day. Would you ask them to stay?"

"No. That is not my right, nor my place. They will sail, as allotted; and you and I will do the same."

"Then?"

"We will call for a secret council, and a sovereign will be ordained to rule over the remaining elves. Then, he must be trained, taught and skilled to face whatever is to come."

"And who has shoulders broad enough to carry such burden in these lands? The line of the Great Eldar Kings is spent. There have been great Rulers of the Noldor, the Sindar and the Teleri; but a King over all the elves has not yet existed. Who can be worthy of this? In this time?"

Galadriel smiled, peacefully now. "There is one whose blood has the strength of the three races; one whose inheritance is great enough to be worthy of this authority; one whose love for these lands is great enough to stay and wield a gallant battle. You know of whom I speak."

"Yes; I know him, and that's why I doubt he can live up to your expectations."

"Do not underestimate his young heart, beloved," the Lady said, holding her husband's face while her voice flowed to the air like a stream of mountain water. "I've seen great potential behind his honest smile. He needs but good instruction, and that we can provide. Besides, he will not be alone, the world of men is strong and Elessar will be at his side, as will the line of the Eorlingas. Together they will be hard to submit."

"You have filled me with hope," Celeborn said, gently holding her by the waist. "Whatever the outcome of this should be, for death or life, the elves will face it with honor."

"So it begins," Galadriel said, the smile suddenly wiped out of her face, as it was not the time to smile, but a time to worry and make haste. "Send messengers to Elrond, Cirdan and Thranduil; the council must be arranged, as soon as possible."

"What about Mithrandir? Shouldn't he be called as well?"

"He already knows. Gandalf the White has already crossed Eregion and makes his way up the Mountains. He will enter the woods of Lorien tomorrow before dusk."

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Hi!

Elwe here, with a second fic. After "IF THE LIGHT. " I thought I was going to take a big rest, but here I am again, I could not hold this story inside of me for long.

Just a few author comments on this story:

It will have many references to the Silmarillion, and at times, I will assume that you are familiar with this book. So if you really want to understand and enjoy this fic, I would recommend you to read, or re-read The Silmarillion, specially the tale of Turin, but also the tale of Eöl and Maeglin, and the whole Luthien and Beren account would be helpful as well, as some events described there will be referenced and assumed through the story.

It will be long, very long; but as the first one, I promise to finish it, no matter what.

I would like to thank Precious Jewelle for her proofreading, I still have some problems with English (remember that it is not my first language) and she helps me to clear up my grammar and orthographic issues. Thank you so much Precious, for your steadfast support to my writings, once again you are my muse.

Remember to leave a comment, please; whether it is to encourage or to criticize (also known as flames); all your comments are well accepted, since they help me to improve, and to deliver a better product for your enjoyment and mine.

And of course I have to say: nothing belongs to me, it all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, to whom I will be eternally thankful for his incredible books, and for the world he opened to us. Thank you master Tolkien, I am not worthy.

I sincerely hope you'll enjoy this story. Next chapter will probably take a while, since I'm quite busy, but it will come, sooner or later, it will come. And if you want to be notified as soon as every chapter is posted, just drop me a little note along with your e-mail address, and I will be glad to let you know.

From now on, it begins.

Blessings,

Elwe Singollo.