Chapter 353: Last Words
Kael shifted at once into phoenix form and wheeled above Saruman, then opened his beak and breathed out a blossom of red‑gold fire.
The flames felt warm rather than searing to those watching, but Saruman's face twisted in terror. He thrashed against the cage of light, desperate to get away.
This was Kael's truest flame, the phoenix's rebirth fire, the power that fuelled its own resurrection. It could heal and restore life, but it could also burn with a force that reached even the soul.
The red‑gold blaze fell upon Saruman's spirit and flared violently, racing over him until he was wrapped in fire from head to foot.
Under the touch of phoenix fire, his soul reacted at once. Black vapour streamed from him, driven out as if something deep within were being purified.
Saruman screamed in agony. The pain of having his very spirit burned was more than even a former White wizard could bear.
Even so, the Maia at his core was tough and enduring. Strong as it was, the phoenix fire alone could not utterly annihilate him.
But Kael was not alone.
Gandalf called on Narya, the Ring of Fire, and poured its power into the phoenix flames. They swelled at once, burning hotter and fiercer.
Saruman's soul burned faster. The darkness clinging to him was stripped away at a terrifying speed.
As it was purged, his strength fell with it.
Galadriel bound his spirit with the power of Nenya, the Ring of Water, so he had no chance to flee.
Elrond drew on Vilya, the Ring of Air, and loosed a blast of cleansing light that struck Saruman like a hammer.
Under the combined assault, the once-solid, imposing soul began to grow dim and thin, his power bleeding away.
At last, nothing remained of Saruman but a faint shadow, drained of all strength, less than a common ghost.
He drifted, a ragged wisp in mid‑air, so feeble that even a breath of wind might have scattered him.
Every trace of Sauron's dark power in him had been burned clean.
Without that gift, Saruman slipped from Sauron's grasp and his own will and clarity returned.
For the first time in an age, his eyes were truly clear. The cold, vicious light in them faded to something calmer.
He looked at Kael, whose gaze was still full of killing intent, and at Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel, comrades once, now his judges. Memory, regret, stubborn pride, and reluctant fondness all flickered across his face.
Bathed in the blazing phoenix fire, Saruman's expression grew oddly peaceful. It was as if he no longer felt the torment of burning.
"You must beware Sauron," he said.
"My failure here will likely force him to choose a road he has long dreaded. He will find a way to regain power, stronger even than before. He will become more dangerous than he has ever been. Middle-earth may face darkness again. You must be ready."
At that, all of them stiffened.
"What do you mean?" Kael demanded. "How can Sauron gain greater power?"
He eyed Saruman narrowly, half convinced the fallen wizard was merely trying to buy time and eke out a few more moments of existence.
Saruman seemed untroubled by the suspicion. "I came to Hogwarts at Sauron's command," he said, "to do three things. First, to find word of the One Ring and seize it if I could. Second, to obtain the Philosopher's Stone and use it to rebuild a body for myself. Third, to corrupt your young wizards in secret, turning them into servants of the dark.
"You are fortunate beyond reason, Kael. I laid my plans carefully, using a Ring of Power to twist the students by degrees. I meant to throw the castle into chaos with the Black Death Plague, and in the turmoil, my work would have gone unnoticed.
"Instead, that wretched Peeves stumbled onto it by chance. The plague never spread, the castle never fell into disorder, and you even took the Dwarf‑ring from my hands. My third task failed completely."
"You still dare speak of that," Kael snapped, fury igniting again. "You meant to loose the Black Death here, to start another Great Plague. You would have drowned the world in pestilence a second time for your schemes.
"To let your soul simply fade would be a kindness. What you deserve is to burn in hellfire without end."
Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel remembered too, and their eyes went cold as ice. Any last spark of pity they might have held for him died.
Saruman saw their anger and only let out a tired, crooked smile. "That was my doing," he said. "I accept the punishment that is due."
"But before I vanish," he went on, "I will leave you one warning. Call it a last confession, if you like: you must be wary of Sauron. The One Ring is no longer his only path back to power. He would rather reclaim it than turn to the other road, but he does have another.
"If taking the Ring back proves impossible, he will choose that second method. With it, he will gather strength again, greater than before, and then he will sweep across Middle-earth in a storm to seize the Ring. When that happens, there will be no one left who can match him. Not even all of you together."
They exchanged uneasy looks, half believing, half doubting.
Kael spoke bluntly. "Other than the One Ring, Sauron has another way to regain his strength? What way?"
Even the Philosopher's Stone could only give Sauron a body. It could not return his lost might.
Most of his power lay bound in the One Ring. Only by reclaiming it could he be fully restored.
That was why he hunted it so relentlessly, why he would pay any price to take it back.
Yet now Saruman was claiming there was some other path to power.
If there had been even the slightest sign that he was lying, or any reason for him to deceive them now, they would have dismissed it as nonsense.
Kael in particular felt the ground shift under his feet. This was beyond anything he knew.
In the old course of history, there had been no such hint.
From beginning to end, Sauron had sought only the One Ring. He had never turned to another method.
Was this some new ripple caused by Kael's presence?
The thought unsettled him.
Saruman's next words answered the question.
He fixed his gaze on Kael, something like grim amusement in his eyes. "In truth, Sauron's second path to power is tied to you, Kael," he said.
"Tied to me?" Kael's brow furrowed. He regarded Saruman in wary disbelief.
"Do you remember the Heiman Shrine?" Saruman asked.
Kael blinked.
"What does that place have to do with this?"
Heiman Shrine was somewhere he had passed through when searching for the raw materials of the Philosopher's Stone.
"The sacrificial array there," Saruman said. "You have not forgotten that, surely?"
The sacrifice laid out to Morgoth.
Kael stared at him, shock tightening his face. He remembered that array, and how he had destroyed it at once.
How could Saruman know of it?
As if reading his thoughts, Saruman did not hesitate. "When you went to the Paths of the Dead," he said, "I watched you in secret through a Palantír. You erased Morgoth's sacrificial array as soon as you found it, but you seem to have forgotten something.
"A Seeing‑stone does not only show what lies far away. It can look backward as well."