Light Splintered and Sewn, Epilogue.
It is out. I have at long last slain my white whale.
Chapter 33: After life - death, after death - life again
The Timeless Halls were nowhere located. Rather than a site, they were an outsideness. When Fëanáro, then, thither found himself, and for how the Eldarin soul was so vitally connected to Arda, he might have not known where he was but he knew with keen, irradicable precision where he was not: anywhere in creation.
Ñolofinwë and Fëanáro are dead.
In Beleriand, the world rearranges itself around their absence. Their kin, their realms, their ventures - all must go on. In Aman, tidings of both victory and death bring further tension to balances already frail.
And in the dread Halls of Mandos, where awaits durance and judgment, Fëanáro's soul argues a case not for himself, but something far larger. Who owns death? Who divinity? Who decrees the rules of healing? How is kindled the cruel miracle of life? And, ultimately, is it even worth it at all?
Credits to the keenly talented @angamaite-der-ritter for the art.
