-2961 of the Third Age-
In the far southern lands of Gondor, in Umbar, the city of the corsairs, a great feast was being held outdoors. The salty sea breeze permeated the harbor, as men and women alike moved to the sound of music. There was no distinction: everyone present was a fierce warrior, capable of annihilating their enemy in cold blood. Mercy was, for them, an insult; for they believed that every warrior—friend or foe—must die in battle. Only then would they achieve glory and be received with open arms by Tulkas, the Valar whom they adored and to whom they offered their prayers.
But do not be fooled: this was no common banquet, like those of the nobles of Gondor or Rohan. It was quite the opposite. Status did not matter here; anyone was free to speak and interact with whomever they wished.
Moreover, the menu was a far cry from the meat of cows, chickens, or pigs. It was enough to look at the huge chunks of meat hanging from the high railings, roasting slowly with spices whose aroma mingled with the sea breeze.
"I didn't imagine mûmak meat would be so tasty," said a man in a blue robe, whose eyes twinkled after every bite.
A thunderous laugh, like the echo of a whale, filled the lively atmosphere. Belegor, fueled by his own joy, became even more animated at the wizard's comment. His long, blackish beard swayed to the rhythm of his laughter. Blessed by Ulmo, he possessed the gift of sailing the seas: every creature that dwelled in the depths allowed him passage, for none wished to anger the chosen one of the creator of their abode.
"I told you it would be tasty," Belegor replied. He took a large chunk of meat, dipped it in spice sauce, and took a generous bite. The aromas danced like an enamored couple on his palate, eliciting a sigh of pleasure.
"Nothing like food after a successful hunt," he added with satisfaction.
"You're the only one who would say that," replied another man in a blue robe, darker than the previous one. "Hunting a mûmak alone is a great feat."
"But not as great as hunting a dragon," added a female warrior, whose reddish mane swayed with every step she took. Her leather attire firmly protected her athletic body; the metallic plate over her chest, discreet but resistant, perfectly suited her figure.
"Are you talking about that dragon hunter?" Belegor asked.
He was not bothered that they minimized his feat of killing a mûmak; he himself knew that his accomplishment paled before the deeds of the legendary Half-elf, blessed by the grace of the Vala creator of the stars. Even without having met him, he deeply respected him, not only for having hunted Smaug, but for all the feats the bards still sang in their stories.
"Who else, if not?" the woman replied, sitting next to the darker-robed wizard. She took a piece of meat and devoured it without decorum; even in her savagery, the elegance with which she had been blessed was apparent. Augura, a strong warrior and lover of battles, respected by men and women alike, worshiped as the most powerful among them all: the woman blessed by none other than their great Valar of adoration, Tulkas.
Augura sighed with pleasure at the exquisiteness that delighted her palate.
"I've heard he's getting married soon to the Elf blessed by Oromë," she added, after recovering from the delight of the meat. "It's a shame such a good man will be captured by an Elf. If it were me, I'd already have his children. Can you imagine? My blessing and his! By the great Tulkas, our children would conquer the world!"
One of the Blue Wizards looked at her with confusion.
"I doubt Lord Aldril would take notice of someone who is just muscle and body, Augura," he replied delicately.
Both wizards had been alongside the Blessed by the Valar for many years, so they could afford sharp comments without major consequences, as they considered themselves friends.
"What did you say?" the woman growled, meat sauce staining her fine face.
Belegor shook his head and refocused on his plate, only to be interrupted by the lighter-robed wizard.
"Putting that topic aside, our masters have told us that we are welcome to attend Lord Aldril's wedding. Don't you think it would be the perfect opportunity to meet him?"
Augura stopped looking hostilely at her friend and placed a hand on her chin.
"In fact, it's a good opportunity. Who knows? Maybe we'll run into the other Blessed Ones. According to rumors, the Half-elf has already been in the presence of at least three of them."
"Three?" Belegor repeated, frowning as he put his mind to work. "How many of us have been blessed? I only know about you, Aldril, his fiancée Tauriel, and myself. Who are the others?"
"Are you stupid? Do you never leave your cave or have you not listened to the bards' stories in the tavern?" Augura replied with frustration. The foolishness and distraction of her friend—and battle companion—were occasionally irritating.
Clearing his throat, the dark-blue-robed wizard intervened, before the two blockheads could start arguing again.
"Lord Belegor does not know the others, as he hasn't been to the tavern lately and has dedicated himself to hunting mûmaks."
"You have a point there," Augura conceded, relaxing her shoulders.
Belegor looked at his friend and nodded in thanks, though his gaze urged him to continue and tell him about the others. Understanding the gesture, the wizard straightened in his seat.
"Well," he said with a slight smile, "allow me to enlighten you with my knowledge, Lord Belegor."
"The first to awaken was Lord Aldril, the beloved and child of the stars. His blessing, granted by the greatest of the Valier, Lady Varda, allowed him to overcome countless battles. His legend traveled with the wind after his victory against the greatest dragon of the Third Age: Smaug."
The wizard took a sip of water to clear his throat before continuing.
"The second known is Tauriel, a red-haired Elf and expert huntress, Captain of the Elves of Mirkwood—or, as it is now called, the Forest of Rebirth. Her blessing was granted by the great hunter Vala, Lord Oromë. She is remembered for having killed over a thousand foolish Orcs who dared to venture into the forest."
"As the third Blessed One we have Raizan, a warrior and strategist from the Eastern lands, the current King of Rhûn. His gift allows him to have prophetic dreams, a gift from the Vala Lórien; a blessing that allowed him to start the rebellion of the Men of the East—or, as they are now known, the Easterlings."
"And lastly there is Frédis, a woman from Rohan. She detests war, and yet, her infinite love for caring for others granted her the grace of Lady Estë, the Valier of healing. Her fame spread when she healed Prince Théoden, the eldest son of King Thengel of Rohan."
"Wait a moment," Augura interrupted, frowning. "How do you know the blessings that were granted to them? From us, I understand, because we told you. But from them? Is there something you are hiding?"
The wizard lowered his gaze, trying to maintain his composure.
"My apologies, Augura. It is knowledge that was given to us by our masters, who contacted the Grey Wizard and the White Wizard. Both, being sensitive to the blessings, managed to ascertain which of the great Valar they came from."
With a simple wave of her hand, Augura's caution vanished. She trusted both wizards deeply—or, as they liked to call themselves, apprentice wizards—but even so, her instinct reminded her to remain alert to anyone who withheld information.
The wizard nodded, exchanged a glance with Belegor, and continued:
"As for the reason for the blessings… throughout the centuries, you all have always been the vanguard against the forces of darkness. Each of you was chosen by the Valar to balance the power against the dark lords; formerly it was the Elves who fought the Balrogs, now it is against the nine lords who surrendered to the Dark Lord."
The Nazgûl.
**
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