"Why? Why do you thirst for blood? Why do you desire it? Why do you want another to suffer? Why do you take someone else's breath away? Why do you shut their eyes forever? Why?" - Words of a woman that died during the battle of Gaelin, in the year 977 of New Era. She supposedly worked in the camp of Cairhienin army as a prostitute. What is noteworthy is that she was supposedly literate, as in her hands she held a copy of an ancient text from ages long past, Ainulindalë. Survivors of Gaelin that knew her say this text gave her comfort in the darkest of days. "We have always been warriors! Always! To the beginning of time!" - spoken by Couladin on the day Truth was revealed OoO Those were the darkest of days, when the tears and blood were still fresh in the hearts of those that survived the Breaking of the World. When the last of those poor men tormented by the cruelty of the Dark One had died, the world lay in the trauma and sorrow that could not be healed. Nations and tribes spread to all four corners of the shattered lands that were now desolate and wild. The sisters of the Aes Sedai alone kept a semblance of civilization and shared it, though begrudgingly, with the few peoples that were blessed enough to live near them. But others had no such gifts and were forced to find their place under the ships of Sun and Moon. Some had luck and settled in the lands rich with growing things and peaceful animals. They became workers in the fields, builders and craftsmen. Others went further away, finding their homes on the shores. There they built havens and boats, and they came to love the food that the sea gave them. The animals in the waters, though violent, posed no challenge to them, for what sea animal would not fear man, who is the lord of green and grey lands? But there were some who were not so lucky. Some people had no choice but to travel to the distant lands on the East, where the Sun, instead of being a good mother, reigned as a tyrant over all things. There the green things did not grow, the waters did not find home and the wind only aided the scorching heat. There the animals became cruel and heartless, and they grew fangs and horns. Ravenous lions, leopards, snakes and wolves hunted and the vicious elephants, rhinos and other horned things saw everything as the enemy. When that tribe of sons and daughters of men arrived there, they found themselves alone, with nothing to value or love but one another. Already their fathers and mothers had witnessed the cruelty and madness that ensued in the Age when the Father of Hatred ravaged the land through his servants. They saw sweat, blood and tears that were shed. And now, as they arrived to this new land, in which one might as well have believed he still reigned over as its true god, they understood the true depths of violence and carelessness that pulls both the man and the animal into the abyss for both the soul and the body. With their hearts shattered, they made a vow to the heaven, to the earth and to the water - never again would they raise their hands at one another, to slay, to protect or even to discipline their children. Never again would they pick up weapons at anyone, except in the hunt and in defense from another beast. "But if the foreigner comes with a weapon, we will not raise a hand against him." And: "At the young of the animals we will not raise our hand." They succeeded. After thousands upon thousands of years of humanity's existence, they broke through. Their will was strong enough, their love for one another powerful enough to make them hold fast to their integrity. It was long and hard, and it was a great temptation in that land of eternal famine, but they succeeded. They accomplished what no other tribe or nation before them had, what no one could hope for, except the very First Men and Women and the Mariners of the West - peace. Not forced, false peace and tyranny as it was in the age now called the Age of Legends, but true peace. There was no enmity or grudge between any family. No one in their people was ever left alone to starve, no one was sent away in the times of greatest need, no one was shunned. They spent their days wandering the Great Desert, going from place to place. As scarce food and water were, no one was jealous or selfish to keep what he had found. Children ate and drank first, with the grown men and women following after. In such land of cruelty, where disease spread as easy as fire on the dry grass, no illness touched them. After their first years of trying to find peace and struggling with their basest instincts, things changed for them. Less and less people became sick, less they had need for food and water, less they wanted to wander alone. Less people died of sickness, less women and children at childbirth - all would reach a good old age and their deaths were all, though sorrowful, peaceful. And they stayed together, even after the families became clans and grew to large numbers - therefore, evil did not come for them. This love lasted for ten generations. Only during the times of the hunt did they pick up spears and venture into the night to spill the blood of animals. Each family had two men chosen and trained with spears, and the chosen of every family would meet one night every week and then they would go into the darkness. They would stay together at all times during the hunt and gather the meat they managed to find. But before returning to their tents, they would find a river to wash themselves in and the meat also, purifying their bodies from blood as the Sun would rise. The meat would afterwards be eaten only once a day, a piece for every man, woman and child, and on special occasions such as births, weddings or deaths. For a long while these were the ways of that people, who named themselves the Aiel, meaning in the language of their time "Dedicated", for they swore to follow peace. But after a few generations, some of the hunters started to grow impatient and they would go into the night more often, sometimes even alone. And if they succeeded in their task, they would hide the meat from others and eat it during the blackness of night. Sometimes their loved ones would find about this and, at first, they raised voices them, but because they wanted peace, they, eventually, let them do as they wanted. But the beasts became more ruthless and started to approach their homes during the night. No one had yet been killed, but there was roaring, howling and hissing, and no one dared to walk out into the darkness, but had remained inside their tents. In the dreadful morning, the spearmen walked out to the cries that, for the first time, continued even after the sunrise. But no beast was there. Instead, as the clouds were still red and the hunters stepped forward, two figures walked to them from the distance. One was like a woman, while the other was like a man. They wore armors of hard steel, painted red, which covered their entire bodies and glittered like sapphires even after the sunlight had disappeared, but despite this, their legs walked on sand without a sound and without a fall. On their heads were iron crowns and they bore long and sharp spears in their hands. "Who are you?" the spearmen asked. "Friends - the only ones you have." the woman answered. And like friends they did appear. Throughout the entire day, they spoke with everyone among that people, and used sweet words and smiles to entice them. They called everyone by name before it was told to them, and they taught them all they knew about the world and the beasts. Then Saralin, the Wise One, spoke to the Two about the horrors that haunted them in the night. "Why do you dwell here as rats, scavenging for remains," the man said. "when you could reign? Why do you surrender to the land and its whims when you could subdue it? Why do you fear the beasts when you could lord over them? Do what they do to you and you will have the land and all its inhabitants as your slaves." For moments, the Aiel had forgotten their vows and asked: "But how will we do that?" The woman held up her spear under the dark sky and it glowed with a light of its own. "We will teach you." Then she asked: "Who is willing to come?" All the hunters took up their spears and followed the Two of them. The whole night they walked without rest, until the two had brought them to a lonely river in the desert. There both the predator and the prey would be at peace and enjoy the water. The Aiel were so amazed at the beauty of this river that, for long years, they held it sacred, and believed only animals were allowed to walk near it. And when they had told this to the Two, they laughed. "The gifts belong to those that take them." the man said. Then he and the woman took out their spears and slew every animal that had come to the river. They slew both the grown and the young, and then river ran red under the sunrise. The stench filled the air, so foul even the flies and worms died. The Aiel fell to their knees and were afraid, but the wind then flew from the East, and the man and the woman stood there on the banks of the river, looking now like a god and a goddess to them. "Do you see now?" the god asked. "Do as we and you will be as gods over everything." The fall was quicker than believed. It began first when the spearmen took all the carcass that stood beside the river and brought it back to their families. And for thirteen days and nights, they ate nothing but meat, all the children, women and men tasted nothing else. Then the hunters went out every night to hunt, and they killed every animal they came upon and did not spare the young, but bore their skin and fangs as trophies. Soon every man started hunting alone or only a few together, and they would return to their homes and be too jealous even of their families - of the rest of the tribe even more. Everyone kept all things they had found, or even stolen, to themselves, whether it was meat or a seed from the earth. In that way, Maigran had baked a loaf of bread, on her own, and refused to share it with any. And Lewin, her brother, came to her, demanding she share it with him. But she refused, cursing him and claiming the loaf was hers alone. Then Lewin cried: "The gifts belong to those that take them!" And he and those who were with him seized Maigran and beat her. Then they grabbed their spears and beat her again with the heels. And Lewin took the red-stained bread for himself. That was merely the beginning. Now whenever words were spoken, a beating by the spear heels followed. Whenever a child was disobedient, a lashing followed. Whenever one felt anger, for the smallest of offenses, he would seize the other person, dress them in white and make them his slave. All this was done and the Two would come every night to see what new word of theirs was followed, and in what ways the Aiel went even further than their own words. Only one had remained to look at this all with horror. Saralin had watched it all, and remained silent, for, as her father had taught her: "Words have weight." And so she waited, hoping this was all a passing temper, believing in the Aiel as she never had before. She had tried to help and welcomed every man or woman that was abused into her tent. And while she would speak to them the ways of peace and love, they all left while uttering a single sentence: "He struck me once, and I shall strike him ten times in return!" And so she witnessed revenge and curse, repeating in an endless cycle, with the god and goddess returning every night to see how much fruit the evil seeds they planted bore. New weapons were soon being made, a man beat another man for the sake of women he desired, telling them that, if he approached her again, blood would be spilled. The opposite happened as well. And those who were the most violent and cruel were praised and revered, while those who were plagued by guilt would be beaten by everyone else. How have we fallen so low? Saralin wondered. How can someone endure to do this? This is not a life worth living! The Creator made Man to rule, yes, but He took fangs and claws away from him because He wanted Man to be the light in the world covered by Shadow, a light to all other creatures, not to partake in the cruelty they revel in. And she looked up at the strangers who had come into their lives. She wondered who they were. Are they of the Thirteen? But if they were, she would have known. These were not one of the Forsaken, who were, despite tales, men and women of flesh, blood and bones. These Two were his Heralds. With this in heart, she left her tent and passed through all the Aiel, walked up to the god and goddess and stood before them, proud and stern. Then she spoke: "Is this what we have sworn to do? Is this the vow we have made? Were the days of quiet so hateful to you you would choose the noise and screams? Was love and compassion so dull that you would rather gnash your teeth at each other than say: 'Come with me, my brother, my sister, and let us be together.' Look at yourselves and tell me you do not understand why we have taken these vows if you dare! Is this the worth of rulership? Is jealousy worth the tears and sweat? Is the shame and anger worth the pains you bring to one another? You say: 'He struck me first, I shall strike him ten times in return!' Where is good will in this? Where is the justice and truth? Do you not see - your own anger and cruelty eat you, like the snake that crawls up your skin and bites you! The spear that cuts through flesh is dulled by the skin and blood. So how can you blame anyone for what has been done?" Then her mind cleared and she turned to the Two figures that stood behind her, and she gnashed her teeth. "Forget what I have said. There! Before them we had lived in peace and love. Now we cannot look at one another. They are liars, they are murderers! The Fingers of the Sightblinder! They are his crows and worms. They are not our friends, but our enemies. Let us not have anything to do with them!" The Aiel were all silent and some felt shame at her words. But then the god spoke: "One final test lies before you, for you to cast the chains that hold you down in dumbness and weakness. As I have told you! If the sick are left to rot, all others will grow weak. So choose now: weakness or strength!" All the Aiel then cried: "Strength, strength! Ode to the glory of war!" Then, for the first time in her life, Saralin felt the hands that pulled her against her own will and she felt the hands and legs she cared for strike at her body, without ceasing. Darkness became a more welcome sight than the faces and voices she loved now twisting and screaming at her, like animals. Worse than animals. Blood went down her nose and cheeks. Her body quickly became numb and ears heard no sound. She could not even cry, except in her heart. Only her eyes, though dim, still had some strength left and she glimpsed one of the men breaking his spear in half and lifting up the point. Then they grabbed her by the feet and the world turned upside down for her and her people. OoO Note: This story is, as seen, a "crossover" between Jordan and Tolkien. I put it in brackets because, as much as the Legendarium is through implication a part of this story, I do think it works absent from it. It is an alternate myth about the story of how the Aiel actually became warriors and abandoned the Way of the Leaf. I have always seen them as a unique culture, though also had a (sort of a) gripe with them, so, yes, this is a bit biased. However, this story is inspired by two of Tolkien's stories: Tale of Adanel, his own version of the biblical Fall of Man, and Akallabêth, his own version of the Fall of Atlantis. In the first story, Morgoth came himself to the lands of Hildorien to corrupt the first Humans ever awakened by Ilúvatar into worshipping him and choosing acts of evil. In the second, Sauron was the one that corrupted the great island-realm of Númenor, inspiring them to worship his banished master, which led to the eventual Drowning of Númenor. This story was made as an attempt to show the Aiel had, as the very First Humans and the Númenoreans, truly managed to build a near-perfect society, in which everyone and everything mattered and in which love and compassion were the the most important values. In case anyone wonders, the two strangers are actually Makar and Meássë. (link about those two charaters here https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Makar) You will not find a mention of them in your copy of The Silmarillion - they are from the very earliest versions, in which they were the Valar of war that, though they did not directly serve, supported Morgoth in everything he did. For the context of this myth I have repurposed them as fallen Maiar that directly served Morgoth and were the demons most associated with violence and war. Please tell me what you think and thank you in advance:)

wotfan4472 Sorry for not replying sooner! I got no notification about your reply. I have by now started understanding your own Tolkien/Jordan headcanon, which differs from my own in that you don't like the idea Morgoth=Shai'tan. On that, we disagree (since I never got the impression Shai'tan is the Creator's equal either) but that is all fun and games. Having said even that, if we remove Tolkien from my "essay" entirely, I do think it describes why I have always seen Ishamael as a very pitiable character, deserving of sympathy rather than parody.

A text from a hypothetical Jordan/Tolkien crossover, in which (of course) Shai'tan and Morgoth and identified as one and the same. This particular text is inspired by the section in Morgoth's Ring titled: On the motives in 'The Silmarillion'. Both Sauron and Morgoth are given a place in that essay, and this is a hypothetical addition about Ishamael in it. Please tell me what you think and thank you in advance!:) Ishamael was, if not the most moral, at least the least petty and selfish among all the Forsaken, and even among many servants Morgoth had through the ages, divine (as Sauron and the Balrogs) or mortal (as the Men of Darkness in the First Age, of which the Thirteen were all descendants). This is because his original choice for destruction of all things had indeed been made with a heart of despair and misery. Having witnessed all fruits of evil that were brought forth when Morgoth was released from the Bore, his mind was too marred by this experience. Rather than a person of pride or arrogance as the other Forsaken, Elan Morin Tedronai was, at first, a good person, intimately understanding of the suffering of his fellow man. As a philosopher and theologian, he sought to answer these questions precisely because of the evils he had witnessed by Morgoth's hand. The only pride that could be attributed to him was that, when the power of the Dark One spread over the land and poisoned all minds, he was thinking he himself would be spared of such manipulation and stay of clear mind. This was merely another ploy of Morgoth, the same he used on Fëanor - though the Elf-lord hated the Dark Lord more than anyone, he had fallen the most to his lies. This was the same for Elan, thought in a different kind. After beholding all that suffering and realizing the cycles of death and pain would go on as long as Morgoth endures, and (as the knowledge of the Gods was primitive in his time) he believed Morgoth would endure forever, by the nature of being older than time itself. Thus, he took up Morgoth's offer - to rend all of Creation into dust. The oath of fealty to Morgoth doomed him. Elan (now Ishamael) soon become, through the countless ages of service, the human being most alike to Morgoth, a "man after Morgoth's own heart". This is not to say Ishamael became as evil or cruel as Morgoth - far from it! None can reach those limits (not even Sauron, who was of Morgoth's own kin, could) especially since the nihilistic desire for eternal peace was still a goal for "the good of all", however twisted it might be - the absence of the lust for power (that was inherent to Morgoth) already made him better than his master. What is meant by this is that he fell most deeply to his Lord'd lies, deeper than any Elda or Man had before or after. Before Morgoth he had already witnessed countless evils, but when he entered the servitude of the Lord of Evil he only fell deeper into abyss. A mind of a common man (or woman) experiences grief, darkness and loss - most grow above it, while others empty their misery through the ways of tyranny. But few there are who find no joy anymore left and start to desire death. Elan Morin Tedronai had a mind greater than a common man and experienced more than one. Because of that, the scars on his soul were even deeper than most. In both tragic and irony, the lord he swore to serve was the source of all that suffering and misery he witnessed, but Elan's soul was so grieved beyond comfort, mind so broken beyond repair, that he lost sense of reality. The relationship between Elan and Morgoth is not unlike that of a master who beats his slave, only to blame him for that pain later on. After a while, the mind of the slave will break and he will consider his master gracious whenever he is not violent. In this way, Ishamael, indeed, came to worship Morgoth in ways no other ever had. His goal was indeed mingled with that of Morgoth (though for different reasons): nothing would have given him satisfaction and rest except if all of Arda was levelled to dust, and then his own soul broken and slain. His suicidal tendencies and self-hatred grew to proportions no one could imagine, and he became one of Morgoth's greatest victims. Does this mean now that Ishamael is without fault? Not at all - the choice to step into the darkness was his free decision. But the breaking that followed that choice and the madness that shattered him was the whip of Morgoth's, striking harder every time at his soul. For that reason, to reject him and be angry at him is a valid choice, but to pity him and understand him even more important.

A short song I had written about Rand's final confrontation with the Dark One, inspired by ancient mythic songs and, of course, Tolkien's own songs (specifically Song of Eärendil and Duel of Songs). I tried to phrase it in ways it would mirror ancients songs, while doing Rand's glory at Tarmon Gai'don justice as well. Here it is: The Dragon rode on the winds of time, a gift of the One to humankind, the Hope of all who ever lived, the Champion of the endless strife. The flowers blossomed before him, the only light in the days dim, the beasts all gathered in greeting, the Spawn of the Shadow retreating. The nations broke before his hand, the Righteous Son of all the land, the princes cast down all their crowns, as he sat upon all their thrones. Great was the Shadow in those days, in days when came the Father of Lies, as he took light from all who see, and sought their souls to slay. But the Dragon was there standing, with his soul the world defending, and his voice speaking the words of comfort to all his wards. He came there as a Star to all, in his hand the Sword of Old, gleaming like a candle in the night, a lone good in all the Blight. Among all the children of Men, of all who lived before and then none was ever born as beautiful, and in his wrath more terrible. He stepped into the Shadow, and dealt it its death blow, and he returned with the story. May he remain forever in glory! Please tell me what you think and offer any advice:)

We leave this in written form, for there is no other way for us to tell you this - we love you. You are our brothers and sisters on Earth. I know that our actions make you believe we favor the Elves, but that is not true - we love you no less than we loved them. I shall confess that we often struggle to understand you, but despite all your flaws, we have always known your beauty and we have always known this - you are worth fighting for. Because of that we will do what we will. Sauron has been defeated - Olórin has succeeded and we have no way to thank him. But nonetheless, he remains in Arda - he might be weak, but he can still cause so much suffering. And I do not even want to imagine what Ungoliant is capable of. But Melkor...he is here. We can feel his essence all too well. For you he might be banished, but we know he is still here. He is trying to break the Doors of Night and we cannot fight him any longer. We are tired. However, Tulkas has made a plan that might work - it will stop him and all the others who are with him from escaping. But there will be changes you must know about. Death will no longer be final for you, at least if our plan goes the way we think it will. I will not waste words: you will be born again and again. The time...it will change. It will no longer move from beginning to end. We are changing it - you will be born more than once, you will live the same lives throughout the many ages. Be careful what choices you make in the first cycle that is coming. We do not intervene with your freedom, so the first cycle will be completely made up of your choices alone - but watch out, for those choices will remain throughout the other turnings as well. You may think us tyrants because of this. You may say we are no better than Melkor. But this is the only way to contain him now. The time for the Last Battle has still not arrived and we do not know how else to keep him away except through this. But we will not leave it at that. We will give you what we can. I will give you the Wind. Varda will give you Fire. Ulmo the Water. Yavanna the Earth and Estë will give you the power over the spirit of Arda. Irmo will give you the Realm of Dreams. Vairë, Aulë, Oromë, Vána, Tulkas and Nessa will do what they can to change time. They will give themselves up as the rest of us are. We will...not be the same. We will no longer be as you thought us in stories - we will not be kings and queens over the Creation. We have seen what Melkor has done to Arda - every last part of it contains a taint of him, a piece of his power that now remains there. He has infused it all with his own essence. To protect you, we will do the same. He...has always been the most powerful among us. That is why he can still speak with words and is well-aware of everything that happens. He is - he had enough power to give it up, while keeping himself intact. But we, as I said, will not be the same. I will no longer govern the Wind - I will be little more in mind than it, and so goes for the rest of us. Our love for you will remain, but I fear our reason and mind will leave us. We are not dying. We cannot die, at least not in the same way you and Elves do. But we will experience the closest thing to it that we can - we will become the Powers that move through the Creation and drive out the Taint of Melkor. But we will not do it on our own - you will have to use us. Use the gifts we leave wisely. Námo and Nienna are the only ones remaining, along with our younger kin - someone has to stay with full mind in order to guide you. Oromë is leaving his horn - whenever Melkor is rising in power, blow through it! Námo will hear it and send all your Heroes to come from the Halls of Mandos. Nienna will walk among you in forms of your bodies, and comfort you and guide you in the ways she can. We do not know if this will work - there are so many flaws in this plan. Varda says our Powers that we leave behind will not suit themselves to everyone - only a few of you will be able to channel them and even among them she thinks there will be a divide of sorts, though we cannot know for certain. And the fate of constant death and rebirth...we are not certain if this will work. But we have no other way. The Allfather is with us and with you. We do not fear Melkor. And we know this: no matter what he strikes you with, no matter how he tries to torment, know this forever - he cannot win unless you give up. He cannot leave the Void unless you allow him to. He cannot hold you as slaves so long as you refuse him and deny him. He still believes that he is your god, but we know in our souls that is not true. Do not trust him - he is the Father of Lies. The Hatred itself, the Lord of Nothing. Trust in the Creator and what He has made for you. Trust one another. Forgive one another, love and have compassion for one another and never give up. We will never leave you, even if we will not speak with words. The only thing we regret is that we will not see you as you triumph over him time and time again. But maybe, on the Last Day...we will meet again. Farewell! Farewell, our brothers and sisters, our beloved, our friends. Goodbye you, for you we do this. We will never forget what we saw when He made the Music. If only you could know how beautiful you are, how much worth you have, how much you mean to us. Every single one of you is worth more than any star that shines in the dark night. We only regret that we will not see you, but we find solace in the truth that we will stay with you forever. We will serve you and aid you - use what we leave, use us wisely. Farewell. (A short "story" in which I tried to crossover the two stories through short explanation, while trying to demonstrate the love the Valar have for humankind. Please tell me what you think:)

@wotfan4472 I like the way you think! Theory: Nakomi is Nienna walking the world and trying to help the Humankind as much as she can. She was said to be the Vala of pity and compassion after all. Maybe she has decided to walk the world in human form and be with them at least by presence. You could say the Sea Folk revere Ulmo and the Ogier might be worshipping Yavanna, Oromë or Vána as their gods.

Now, I have mentioned a lot of the times that Tolkien's Legendarium and Jordan's Wheel of Time dovetail very, very well when you let your mind work around it a bit. General View Entire story of the Pattern, and all its ages and turnings, happen long after the War of the Ring and the War of Wrath: Morgoth was banished into the Void, and Sauron with him, along with many fallen Maiar. After that, Eru the Creator changed the passage of time on Arda so that it is cyclical and that Morgoth could never escape the Void. From age to age, he manages to make a bore in his prison and reaches the world of humanity, who call him Shai'tan and the Dark One. Sauron walks freely in the form of a Myrddraal who the Forsaken and the Shadowspawn obey in all things, and, of course, bears a particularly telling name "Hand of the Dark" - Shaidar Haran. Morgoth's Servants This is a well-known cathecism. So the main thing in it is that Shai'tan was imprisoned together with his servants from the beginning. As we know, this can't possibly be true about the Forsaken. But maybe this is not false on itself and based on a memory that the Dark One really was imprisoned with his great servants from the beginnng - those servants are vastly more horrible than the Forsaken: Sauron, Balrogs and all other fallen Maiar. Mashadar and Machin Shin Then we have two entities said to be distinct from the Dark One, yet are clearly forces of evil in Wheel of Time: Machin Shin and Mashadar. For those two I propose this: 1. Mashadar is none other than Ungoliant. We know Mashadar devours everything in its way and that is exactly what Ungoliant cared about. She served Morgoth for a time, but eventually went on to serve her own gluttony. Tolkien mentions that some believe that she eventually devoured herself. It is possible her spirit remained, unable to take physical form, but still driven by hunger, brought to an almost bestial state of mind. (This would mean people of Aridhol didn't create Mashadar, though - they merely awakened Ungoliant somehow). This also offers a parallel for Padan Fain - Gollum was always bringing victims to Shelob, Ungoliant's daughter, so maybe Ungoliant later on chose Fain as her own Gollum who would bring her supplies on which she could feed herself. 2. Machin Shin is what was left of the character whose end is described in this passage: From Lord of the Rings, Book VI, chapter "The Scouring of the Shire" As he was not allowed to return to Valinor and unable to take a physical form, he became little more than a spirit of malice that in the Third Spoke on the Wheel dwells in the Ogier Ways. Elves Elves who did not go to Valinor suffered a fate far worse than death or even fading that Tolkien described - they lost who they are, became twisted, completely betraying their nature and purpose in the world. They became creatures who left Arda for another world, or at least another dimension. There they became known as the Eelfinn and Aelfinn. Eru still uses them indirectly to assist Humans, but they lost who they are as people. Heroes of the Horn Look at the item that is able to summon the Heroes - Horn of Valere. That is how it is called. Valere might be a mispronunciation of the term Elves taught Humans: Valar. To be exact, it Valaróma, the horn of Oromë. Whenever it is sounded, Námo, that is Mandos, hears it and released the Heroes from his halls to aid the Armies of the Light. Summary As I said, I believe the two quite easily dovetail. The important thing to note is that this was obviously not Jordan's intent (unless you believe in the "Author is dead" idea, in which case it probably doesn't matter to you, lol) when creating the series. However, some stories are very easy to reconcile with one another and make a good case they are the same story beyond just their themes. Anyway, that is my theory and head-canon at least. Please share what you think and name some other similarities or theory that could make sense in this. Thank you in advance!