In the Void, within the Timeless Halls beyond time, Eru sat still upon His white throne.
It was wrought of supreme light, more dazzling and holy than all the starlight of Eä combined.
With joy and with sorrow He hearkened to the Great Music, that harmonious sound ordained before the beginning of the world: now fair, now sad, now gentle, now fierce.
That Music was the Fate which Eru and the Ainur had composed before Eä came into being.
Suddenly, the Great Will whom the world names Ilúvatar perceived something.
He turned His gaze toward the edge of the starry realm, blacker than the Void, more fell and raging than the end of all things.
It was a place where none of the Ainur had ever ventured, the very graveyard of all life.
In the next instant, the Great Will who was before Eä departed the Timeless Halls.
He came to the boundary of Eä, that star-verge which devours all life and soul.
Those Ainur who remained in the Timeless Halls, who had not followed the other mighty ones into the unfolding of the Music, knew not what had occurred and cried out in bewilderment.
“Most interesting.” The supreme consciousness of great Eru enclosed a feeble soul, one that had drifted from somewhere unknown, scarce escaped from the raging chaos of the starry void.
“Ah, a world ruled by mortals…
fair, peaceful, but weak!” With wonder and delight Eru observed this soul, a stranger from beyond, no part of His ordained Music.
“Nay, your music has been tampered with…
Ah, so it is…” What the Great Will beheld is unknown, yet Ilúvatar’s voice swelled as He sheathed that pitiful soul, faint as dust and ready to flicker out, within His holy and boundless thought.
The stars trembled at the sound of His voice.
A faint, discordant note rippled through the once-harmonious Music, but swiftly it was stilled by the sacred, immeasurable might of Eru, and the fair and harmonious Music sounded once more.
“In thanks for showing Me a different Great Music, a path I had not foreseen, therefore…
I may bestow upon you a small gift.” So spoke Ilúvatar, and He turned His gaze upon Eä, upon the Blessed Realm that He and the Ainur had made together.
“You call yourselves the descendants of dragons?
It is fitting.
Melkor, mightiest of the Ainur, once fashioned creatures named dragons…” A note of displeasure, and of regret, crept into His voice as He named that Ainu who had woven the greatest discord into their shared Music.
“Though this dragon is not that dragon, yet I bless you, soul from a strange realm.” “May you have a heart like that of the great dragons, strong and mighty!
May your eyes be keen and far-seeing, undimmed by any mist!” “May your body be strong and hale, fearing neither bitter cold nor scorching heat!” Eru’s blessing resounded, a blessing not heard since the ages of the Firstborn and the Secondborn long ago.
All the Ainur, those within the Timeless Halls and those without, felt it as a sudden knowing.
In joy they lifted their voices, and fair and harmonious music flowed through the holy Halls and down into the Blessed Realm below.
The Calaquendi abiding in the Undying Lands, in Aman and Valinor, raised their heads in wonder and were long lost in the beauty of that song, unwilling to wake from their rapture.
But those parts of the Music that the Ainur scorned and shunned wailed with harsh discord.
Though they knew not what had come to pass, their native sense of ordained fate told them that a troubling note had entered the Music.
“May your will be steadfast and undying!
All whom I have created and blessed shall be your friends, and naught that I loathe and spurn may harm you!” At last, Eru gazed upon that otherworldly soul, which compared to His boundless consciousness was but a mote of dust, and said: “May the stars shine upon you, soul from the greater harmony!
When loneliness and the pain of exile stir within your heart, the starlight of the dawn shall soothe your sorrows!” It was the fairest of blessings.
Ever would it guide that soul, faint as a dying flame, in its hour of need, as if ordained by fate.
Though at that time the otherworldly soul knew not the precious worth of this blessing.
The feeble soul flickered twice, as if in thanks.
“Then go now!” Eru spoke, and with His vast and boundless might He opened a passage straight to the Blessed Realm.
The otherworldly soul was cast into it, falling like a shooting star upon Middle-earth.
Let us speak no more for now of this poor soul, frail as stardust, who appeared unbidden in the world of Eä and received the blessing of Eru.
He is the All-high and All-holy, the Beginning and the End, and this was a soul from beyond the Walls of the World.
Ilúvatar returned to the Timeless Halls beyond time.
The Ainur who remained there beheld His holy radiance once more upon the throne, and their singing grew yet more joyful.
One bold spirit asked: “O great and all-holy Eru, what has come to pass?
Why does my heart feel such sudden joy?” Eru answered: “Because I Myself feel joy, therefore do you also.” Another Ainu asked: “Great and all-holy Eru, I perceive that a change unlooked-for and beyond reckoning has entered the Great Music which we composed with You.
Was this allowed by Your will?” Eru nodded.
“Yes.
For I have glimpsed an ending I did not foresee, and therefore I wove a small change into the Music.” “Do not doubt, do not fear.
All is within My governance.
You need only rejoice, only sing, and await the coming of the final chapter.” That Ainu, hearing the unwavering and peremptory tone of Eru, could do naught but withdraw meekly.
Seeing this, the others dared ask no more, and peace and joy returned once more to the Timeless Halls.
Upon His throne, the great and all-holy Ilúvatar sat in silent thought, weaving, and watched with a smile the Great Music, now forever changed.