[300 p.s Bonus Chapter]

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"Kaen Eowenríel… it has been a long time~."

The moment the voice rippled through his mind, Kaen's eyes snapped open. The meditation he had just settled into shattered like glass.

He rose to his feet in a single smooth motion, blade drawn, scanning the camp.

Only a few sentries stood watch, the rest of the company already asleep.

A hallucination?

He frowned immediately. No. That was absurd. A hero at the very peak of the Legendary rank did not imagine voices in the night.

"Do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm. I merely came to confirm one thing."

The voice came again—this time behind him.

Kaen whirled, blade up.

From the veil of shadows stepped a figure draped in deep violet.

She was… tall. Towering, in fact—easily two and a half meters, her form willowy yet powerful, every curve a study in elegance. She wore a gown of sheer, shadowed silk that clung like moonlight on still water.

A cascade of midnight-black hair spilled to her waist. Bare feet, pale as marble, touched the ground without gathering the slightest mote of dust.

And with her arrival, time stopped. The wind ceased. The crackle of the campfire froze. Even the slow drift of smoke hung unmoving in the air.

Kaen's first thought: Noble. Elegant. Dangerous.

His second: I've seen her before… haven't I?

And he knew—against such a presence, he had no hope of resistance. His grip on the sword tightened, but not in defiance—more in instinct.

"We've met before… I think. Though my memory fails me. Perhaps you remember?"

The woman's lips curved into a smile both regal and unsettling.

"Oh, I remember well. A year ago, you came into these mountains with a small band… Do you recall the vampire you encountered?"

Kaen's eyes widened.

"That was you?"

The memory struck like a bell. A year past, during the expedition into the Troll-woods, he and Zakri had hunted in the Misty Mountains—and crossed paths with a female vampire. Their meeting had been brief, but now, brought to light, it was unmistakable.

But… Kaen had never heard of a vampire in Middle-earth who radiated this level of power.

And now she stood here—not by chance, but by intention.

"Your name?"

She considered for a moment, then said:

"In the elder ages, I was called Thuringwethil."

Kaen mouthed the name, dredging through the lore in his mind until fragments surfaced.

Thuringwethil—a Maia who had fallen into darkness, the greatest of all vampire-kind. Once a servant of Sauron, as he had been Morgoth's lieutenant.

Where Sauron managed the legions, she had been the Dark Lord's messenger, carrying his will to the far reaches of the world.

It was her hide that the mortal hero Beren and the Sindarin princess Lúthien had once stolen, using it to pass the gates of Angband itself in their quest for a Silmaril.

The records ended there. No one knew her fate.

Until now.

Kaen hadn't expected this—one of the old-world demigods, a being who had survived the War of Wrath, hiding all this time in the Misty Mountains.

A being far above even Gandalf or Saruman, whose powers were bound. Thuringwethil's strength was whole—untouched by seal or restraint.

Kaen could not decide whether to call himself fortunate… or doomed.

Still—her stance was not hostile.

She studied him for a moment before speaking.

"It seems you know me."

"I do," Kaen said with a nod. "The fallen Maia… Sauron's messenger… first of the vampire bats. I've read the fragments, never expecting to meet you—much less twice."

Her lips tilted faintly.

"That is… surprising indeed."

She leaned down—her height forced it—bringing her gaze level with his. Her eyes searched him with unsettling patience.

"Do you know… that Eru Himself has taken notice of you? And has given me a new mission because of it?"

Eru Ilúvatar. The One. Creator of Arda. God of all that was.

When Kaen had first arrived in this world, he'd feared being cast out as some aberration. But when nothing happened, he had simply… carried on.

After all, what use worrying over a god who could erase you with a thought?

"You don't seem surprised," Thuringwethil noted, curiosity flickering in her tone.

Kaen shrugged.

"Should I be? You want me afraid? Trembling? I'm less than an ant in front of a Creator. Better to spend my time getting stronger."

She laughed softly, a sound like silk over steel.

"Wise words. I too once feared divine punishment when I chose to follow Melkor… only to learn that He did not care. Light or dark, justice or evil—it matters little to Him. As long as the world remains, He will not descend."

Kaen's brow furrowed.

"Then what was this arrangement between you and the Creator that brings you here?"

Her eyes gleamed, and she bent low until her face was a whisper from his.

"He told me you are a real existence, one beyond His binding. He has ordered me to follow you. As long as you do not destroy the world, you may do whatever you please."

"Truly?"

"He is watching even now. I would not lie. Look up."

Kaen obeyed—and his breath caught.

The world fell away. Distance meant nothing. His sight pierced the veil of the heavens, soaring past the stars into the fathomless dark—

And there… in the infinite deep… sat a figure of pure light, vast and incorporeal, yet of unmistakable form.

A being eternal, ancient, and utterly beyond. Thought and creation wove together in that presence. And as Kaen's gaze met it—

It inclined its head.

And then the world returned.

Kaen sucked in a sharp breath.

He had seen Eru Ilúvatar.

Thuringwethil smiled at his shock.

"Now you believe me?"

Kaen nodded slowly, though curiosity still burned.

"Then tell me—what did the Creator give you in return for your service? What gift could make a Maia choose to remain by my side?"

Her eyes grew distant, and she glanced skyward once more.

"He gave me the freedom to choose my fate—free from the will of the Valar… free from the Music of the Ainur itself."