The eagles carried the company through the skies, soaring over the peaks of the Misty Mountains where they nested. There, one by one, they set down the tiny figures upon their colossal nests.
The nests were vast, befitting the creatures that inhabited them, and though the height made it difficult to breathe, the dwarves and the eldens sighed in relief. The nightmare was over — at least for now.
Everyone was wounded, exhausted; some couldn't even stay awake once they were finally allowed a moment's rest. Miquella himself, unconscious, instinctively curled up against his sister's chest, sleeping in her arms. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace, as if he had recovered something he had lost centuries ago.
...
Everything was dark.Only the vast nothingness — a space without form or time — where Miquella stood, gazing in every direction as if searching for something. At any other time, he might have felt fear, but not now. There was no pain, no weight, no wounds; only serenity.It was a dream. He knew it.
"Yes… it is," whispered a voice, distant yet close.
Miquella frowned. For a moment, he thought it might be Mandos, or perhaps another Valar, as when he had met Yavanna. But when he turned, what he found before him was not a god… but a mirror. Or so he thought.
In the reflection, he saw himself — though his skin bore a faint violet hue, and his gaze was subtly different. Similar, almost identical… but not the same. He understood. He raised his hand toward the figure, and it mirrored his gesture. When their fingers met, he felt warmth — the pulse of a twin existence.
The two Miquellas began to move in unison, touching hands, circling with a rhythm almost ritualistic. They seemed to dance. Until, at last, they embraced, feeling each other's heartbeat. It was still a dream, yet that contact felt real — in some inexplicable way.
"It's so strange…" one whispered.
"To see oneself…" continued the other.
"For the first time…"
"Without being…"
"Part of…"
"The other."
They spoke, completing each other's sentences — in a harmony both unsettling and beautiful. They gazed at one another, caressing the other's face with reverent gentleness, as though touching a divine work of art.
"But it's strange… how is it that…?" asked Miquella.
"How is it that we're separated?" answered Trina.
"Yes… and that you seem to know exactly what I'm thinking…" Miquella laughed softly.
"We're the same person. It would be strange if we didn't… or at least, we were," said Trina.
"Yet I don't quite feel it anymore… are we truly the same?"
"Yes… once, at least. Now… it's more complicated. Since that incident."
"Since we arrived in this world…"
"Since we stopped being just Miquella…"
They fell silent. Their foreheads met, breathing in unison. They were no longer one, yet the bond remained — different, yes… but just as deep, and no less powerful.
Then Trina slowly stepped back, her expression turning solemn. The brief moment of lightness between them had ended; the time for reunion gave way to the time for truth.
Miquella understood. Though he longed to hold onto that warm connection with what now seemed his other half — his sister — he knew he had to understand the truth.
"When Yavanna spoke of 'meeting my sister'… she meant you, didn't she?" he finally asked, piecing together fragments of the past, though with each answer came new questions.
"Yes," Trina replied calmly. "I spent time in Valinor, among them. I learned what I could… and tried to intervene in the tapestry we both know."
"You know about that too?" Miquella said, sitting up with curiosity, studying the living reflection before him.
"I know everything you know," Trina answered. "What we lived in the Lands Between, what we lived on Earth… even something of your life here, in Arda. Though that part reaches me more faintly."
Miquella stayed silent, watching as she composed herself, like a teacher ready to reveal a long-delayed lesson.
"I know more than you about what happened to us," she continued. "Because, as it has always been, whenever you were awake… I was asleep. And every time you slept…"
"You were awake," completed Miquella, nodding in understanding.
"Exactly. Even when that being tore us from our worlds," Trina went on. "I felt it more clearly than you did — though barely. My consciousness almost disintegrated when I perceived it. Our existences weren't prepared to touch something so vast, so alien. Yet still, I managed to glimpse a fragment of its essence. Of course… back then, we were still one."
"And what happened after? Why did we separate? Is it right for us to remain divided? Should we… reunite?" Miquella asked, genuine worry in his voice — afraid this might end badly for them both.
Trina lowered her gaze, thoughtful.
"During our journey, after our souls merged into what we are now, another cosmic entity touched us," she explained. "It infiltrated its power into us, trying to corrupt us. It wanted to make us its vessel, its herald of evil — not for any particular goal, but out of sheer malice. To cause harm for harm's sake."
Miquella placed a hand over his chest, remembering that dark mark that had once stained him, the one that had slowly faded away. He recalled Brea's worried looks, Leda's tense eyes, and how, over time, he had stopped thinking about it as it vanished — believing it was merely a side effect of his transmigration. And perhaps, in part, it was.
"That corruption was pure chaos," Trina said, her voice low and calm. "Without reason, without purpose. It should have consumed us… but it wasn't prepared to face us. During the journey, the same being that brought us here contained that power. And while you slept, I was awake… fighting it. It tried to take me over, but I managed to master it, to absorb it little by little without yielding to its vile essence. The mark on your chest was the echo of that corruption. It faded as I subdued it more and more. It's still there, though. That power is immense, and even I don't dare to erase it completely — it would be too dangerous. But it can no longer manifest in the physical world as it once did."
Miquella nodded slowly, relief and gratitude mingling in his heart.
"Then… I suppose I should thank you for saving me, Trina," he said softly, placing a hand over his heart.
Trina smiled faintly.
"You shouldn't. It would be like thanking yourself. Besides, I know you'd have done the same for me. After all… we're still the same person."
Miquella lowered his gaze, thoughtful, but smiled as well.
"I suppose so…"
"Now, back to the matter at hand," said Trina, her tone softening as she walked a few steps. "When we arrived in Arda, I awoke in the world of dreams — the place where I have always existed. But this time, it was different. I could feel that what happened to us had distanced us like never before… and yet, we were still connected. I began to think for myself, to have my own will. In a sense, I began to be Trina — but without Miquella, though you were still there."
"We stopped being two sides of the same coin…" he murmured.
"We became two halves of a single being, coexisting yet divided. And then I thought I should act, to try and help us in this unknown world. Time in the dream realm doesn't flow in order; it's unstable, senseless. But with the power we possessed, I tried to look beyond it all — to step outside… and I did. I found myself before Eru Ilúvatar. Or something that could be called him."
"You met God?!" Miquella exclaimed, eyes wide.
Trina smiled faintly, almost sadly.
"Something like that. It lasted only a moment — barely longer than a conversation — but I felt it. He looked at me… at us, and did not erase us. He allowed us to exist within His creation. And in that brief time, I learned something about this world: our arrival has triggered a game among higher gods."
Miquella frowned, sensing part of her thought. "The Greater Will…?"
"Yes. She and Ilúvatar have been at odds since our arrival. Our passage opened a path between worlds, and now the Greater Will seeks to extend her dominion into this reality. But Ilúvatar opposes her. Even so, beings of that magnitude cannot confront one another directly — their clash would destroy everything they wish to rule. So the conflict has been moved to a smaller board."
"Arda?" Miquella asked, suddenly grasping the unease he had felt since arriving. "They're fighting here?"
"Exactly. At first, the Greater Will tried to act on her own, but Ilúvatar repelled her again and again. Then she changed her strategy. Now, Ilúvatar and the Greater Will are the players; Arda is the board, and we — like all its inhabitants — are the pieces. A game among gods. A game of realms and souls… a game of thrones, in the most literal sense. A struggle in which Ilúvatar will not intervene, so long as the Greater Will refrains as well."
Miquella lowered his gaze, processing the scale of what he'd heard. "But… how does one even fight such a war? How does one win or lose it?"
"The Greater Will seeks to conquer Arda — the heart of the world. From here, she could expand across the cosmos. Ilúvatar seeks to stop her. Each side has its champions: the natives, defenders of this world, and the invaders — beings from the Lands Between. Though nothing prevents anyone from switching sides."
"So…" Miquella said in a grave voice, "are we part of the army of the Great Will? Did we come here to conquer?"
She paused, looking at him with a mix of melancholy and hope.
"We were the key that unlocked this conflict, but we weren't sent by her. We aren't under the Greater Will's control… nor in Ilúvatar's direct service."
She smiled faintly.
"We are something neither of them planned — an accident. A point of balance, belonging to neither side… a neutral faction."
"Then… I suppose we'll side with Arda. Ilúvatar is far more lenient than the Greater Will. I don't want to live under another manipulative higher being. In that, Ranni was right. I'd rather follow a god like Ilúvatar, who barely intervenes, than one who treats us as disposable puppets. How do we help fight?"
"We already are," Trina replied calmly. "Both sides have their backups. Ilúvatar has Valinor and the Valar as his trump cards. Even Sauron — or Melkor himself — might one day join against this foreign threat. Meanwhile, the Greater Will's greatest support lies in the Lands Between. So Leda, the other Eldens you brought, even our sister… they are soldiers we've stolen from her. Every soul we summon here is one less pawn for her. Even if we don't fight directly, we weaken her forces with every being we bring into Arda by our own means."
"Then we should keep doing it," said Miquella thoughtfully.
"Especially with her strongest pieces…"
"Our brothers and sisters…"
"Indeed." Trina nodded at the same time as Miquella, as if they shared the same thought. "Still, the battle won't be easy. The Greater Will cannot perceive us — or she'd have acted already — but her power remains immense. And she's not the only one who's reached into Arda. Other beings have chosen to 'collaborate' with her, or at least to fight the same enemy before turning against one another. But sooner or later… they too will collide."
Both fell silent, reflecting on the enormity of what lay ahead. They knew their enemy, and their purpose. There was no room for doubt.
"We will settle in Arda…"
"And build a kingdom of our own…"
"We will drive out the Greater Will…"
"And we will be happy…"
They finished the sentence together, exchanging a look of unshakable resolve
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