In LOTR with Harry Potter system-Chapter 450: Manwë Invitation

Morgoth, upon hearing this, was delighted and made his appeal:

"As you can see, I am now bound by iron chains, chains forged from the power of the Void itself. They are unbreakable and possess a mighty sealing force that prevents my escape. I have long foreseen my fate: I will be dragged from Arda by those hypocritical Valar through the Door of Night and cast into the outer Void, left to wander for eternity."

His voice dropped, conspiratorial and sharp.

"But I will not simply accept that fate. I need you to find a way to infiltrate the Halls of the Void, steal the key that unlocks these chains, and then use it to pass through the Door of Night. I promise you, once I am freed from my bonds, I will help you obtain the power of the Void. Together, we shall seize the Flame Imperishable!"

Sylas listened in silence to every word. Then, slowly, he spoke:

"Your offer is tempting… but I refuse."

Even though Morgoth's words were intoxicating, striking at the deepest chord of Sylas's ambition, he understood the consequences.

From beginning to end, he recognized this for what it was: manipulation.

Every being in Arda was wary of Morgoth. Would he truly be mad enough to cooperate with the Dark Enemy, risking the wrath of all the Valar just to steal the key to Morgoth's chains?

And the Flame Imperishable, that belonged to Eru Ilúvatar, the Creator himself. If Sylas dared conspire with Morgoth to seize it, Ilúvatar could simply unmake him with a thought. As the omniscient, omnipotent Creator of all Arda, Eru's power was absolute. Sylas suspected that his very presence in this world was Ilúvatar's doing, and even now, the Creator might be watching from beyond the circles of the world.

He didn't understand why Ilúvatar, who could effortlessly crush the rebellious Morgoth, had never acted, allowing the Dark Enemy to wreak havoc across the ages. But that mystery wasn't worth staking his existence on. Cooperating with a chained prisoner to seize the Creator's own flame? He still intended to remain in this world for some time yet.

Faced with the refusal, Morgoth showed no anger. Instead, a knowing smile spread across his ruined face.

"You will answer differently, in time. When you reach my level… you will understand everything I have done. And then, you will join me."

His voice echoed across the River of Time.

Morgoth wandered through the current, bound in iron chains, his legs severed, the Iron Crown twisted into a collar around his neck, yet his expression remained calm, even serene. He allowed himself to be dragged back to Valinor without resistance, passing through the Máhanaxar, the Ring of Doom, where judgment was rendered upon him. From there he was taken to the Door of Night at the uttermost edge of the world and cast bodily into the Void beyond.

Only at the very last moment, as he passed through the Door of Night, did Morgoth turn his gaze across the current of time, locking eyes once more with Sylas. He said nothing. But in those ancient, terrible eyes burned an absolute certainty: he would return.

Sylas stood above the River of Time and watched in silence. He had gleaned much from witnessing Morgoth's trial before the Ring of Doom. He didn't so much as glance at the assembled Valar, fearing they might detect his presence.

Once Morgoth vanished into the outer Void, Sylas turned away and drifted downstream. He did not return immediately to his own point in time. Instead, he lingered within the River of Time, continuously absorbing its power and contemplating the laws of temporal flow.

Within the River of Time, time itself had lost all meaning. Perhaps tens of thousands of years passed, or perhaps only a fleeting instant.

In his Ainu form, Sylas's divine body gradually took on the shimmering hues of time itself. The aura of ages swirled around him, lending him an appearance both ancient and impossibly youthful. He had finally, truly obtained the divine power of time, mastering its flow and its laws.

Now, he was no different from any other Ainu who wielded dominion over a fundamental aspect of Arda. He possessed the right to command the laws of time. But unlike any other, the River of Time was uniquely his, both his domain and the wellspring of his power. Even a force of tremendous might could not strip him of his sovereignty over the River of Time.

And once he gained full control over it…

With mastery over the River of Time, he could become the Lord of Time, the sole sovereign of temporal power. That would be the moment he ascended to the rank of a mighty Vala.

Sylas walked along the River of Time to his own point in the current, then stepped out of the temporal flow and re-entered the material world. The unmistakable aura of an Ainu radiated from him, and the power of time manifested visibly around his form.

Such a phenomenon shook the spirits of Valinor to their core. Even the equally powerful Maiar, including Olórin and Galadriel were deeply astonished to witness Sylas's Ainu form. Likewise, every Vala in Valinor turned their gaze toward him, expressions ranging from disbelief to wonder. Some were stunned by his ability to assume an Ainu form at all; others marveled at the depth of his comprehension and mastery over the power of time.

Sylas sensed their gazes upon him, but he felt no nervousness or panic. Instead, he turned his attention inward.

His true form was that of a pure spiritual being, a mighty spirit without physical substance, imperceptible to ordinary mortals. But he could freely shape a body to house his spirit, manifesting himself in the physical world at will. And for a being of his nature, shaping a physical form was as effortless as changing clothes.

Sylas's mind stirred, and the surrounding natural elements converged upon him, molding a body according to his will. In an instant, an extraordinarily handsome figure appeared, noble and elegant, with pointed ears and long black hair. He was indistinguishable from any highborn Elf.

Sylas examined the Elven body he had crafted, finding the new form novel and intriguing. Curious, he reshaped himself again, shifting into the forms of Men, women, the elderly, children, beasts, and even mimicking the White Tree of Minas Tirith, creating a form with a similarly pale, luminous trunk.

His method of transformation was unlike true shapeshifting. He was merely donning different physical shells; beneath each guise, his essential nature remained unchanged. Ultimately, he settled back into his original form, that of a human wizard.

And so the transformed Sylas became something new: a Time Mage, or perhaps more fittingly, the Time-Walker.

Moreover, unlike the Maiar, there was no supreme authority above him dictating the limits of his power. This meant Sylas could continue advancing toward his goal, accumulating ever-greater dominion over time. In the future, he would stand as an undisputed master of time, a peer to the Valar themselves.

This reality was apparent not only to the Valar, but also to the powerful Maiar who served them. The Valar regarded Sylas with heightened esteem and admiration, while many of the greater Maiar looked upon him with envy.

The power wielded by the Maiar was almost entirely derived from the authority granted to them by the Valar. In essence, a Maia's strength flowed from their Vala, and to increase their power, they required further investiture from their lord. Just as the foremost Maiar, those who served as heralds and standard-bearers for their respective Valar, were elevated above their peers through the immense power bestowed upon them.

This was the fundamental nature of Arda: if the world were a house, the Valar held ownership of it, while the Maiar possessed only the right to dwell within.

But Sylas had forged his own path. He had seized a route to power that no other being had walked, and his potential was, in theory, limitless.

"Congratulations Sylas, you have mastered time. You are welcome to visit the forest palace of Lórien as my guest."

A voice descended from the heights of a vast, mist-shrouded peak. It was an invitation from Manwë, King of the Valar.