Sylas entered the cellar.
The vast underground space, expanded many times by the Undetectable Extension Charm, stretched like an endless cavern, large enough to fit several football fields.
Piled mountains of gold and gemstones shimmered in the dim, enchanted light, reflecting against the stone walls with a warm, golden glow.
And amidst those glimmering mounds of treasure lay a colossal figure, Smaug, the Dragon, coiled lazily atop his hoard.
The moment Sylas appeared, Smaug stirred. The Dragon opened his eyes, golden slits flaring with light, and rose from his resting place.
Countless coins and jewels cascaded from his scales like a waterfall of gold and silver, clattering and chiming across the floor.
Smaug had grown astonishingly larger, now towering over two hundred meters, his body radiating immense heat and power.
"Master," Smaug rumbled, tilting his massive head in curiosity. "To what do I owe this visit?" His eyes gleamed slyly. "Could it be… Master has finally decided to entrust the Philosopher's Stone to me for safekeeping?"
Sylas shot him a flat look. 'Entrust the Philosopher's Stone to this greedy beast? Might as well throw it into Mount Doom and be done with it.'
Without entertaining the comment, Sylas opened the mithril box he carried. Inside, the Dwarven Ring and the Human Ring shimmered faintly with a dark luster.
Smaug craned his long neck to peer closer. "What are those?"
"These," Sylas said, "are some of Sauron's Rings of Power. Since you've absorbed the Frost Dragon's crystal, your Dragon Flame should be stronger now. Tell me, can you destroy them?"
Smaug's eyes flared with pride. "Hah! My flames now burn hotter than ever, two or three times stronger than before. Ordinary dragons can melt steel and stone. My fire, Master, can reduce nearly anything to ash. Compared to most, I stand beside the ancient wyrms themselves!"
"Then it's your task," Sylas said simply, passing the box to him.
"No problem!" Smaug puffed out his chest. With a deep, guttural chuckle, he tilted his massive head back and swallowed both Rings whole.
A crimson glow began to pulse beneath his scales, and waves of heat rolled off him. The air shimmered like molten glass as Smaug's chest swelled with inner fire.
Inside, the Rings were being scorched in an inferno hotter than any forge.
A moment later, two muffled explosions echoed from within the Dragon's body. Smaug exhaled, releasing a plume of black, smoke-like energy that writhed briefly in the air before fading away.
The Dragon gave a satisfied burp. "Ahh… delicious. Master, if you have any more toys like these, leave them to me. Their power was dark, but potent. They've helped me absorb the Frost Dragon's essence much faster!"
Sylas raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. He hadn't expected that the Rings' lingering magic would actually nourish Smaug. But the discovery pleased him, better the Dragon grow stronger than let Sauron reclaim those cursed artifacts.
It was well known that Dragons were nearly immune to the Rings' corruption. Their minds were already consumed by greed; no dark magic could deepen that.
Even the One Ring had little sway over them. Dragons desired gold, not dominion. They craved wealth, not power.
So when Smaug had once noticed Bilbo carrying the Ring, he hadn't cared to steal it, not out of wisdom, but indifference. To him, it was simply another shiny trinket.
Much like now, Sylas thought dryly, watching the Dragon eye his Philosopher's Stone with barely concealed hunger.
To Smaug, gold and jewels were life itself. He could neither eat nor wield them, yet the loss of a single coin would drive him to fury. And every time he saw the Philosopher's Stone, his eyes burned with a covetous gleam that made Sylas wary.
Still, with the Rings of Power destroyed and Smaug satiated, for now, Sylas left the cellar and returned to the Castle above.
At the same time, Sauron, far away in Mordor, also sensed the destruction of the two rings.
The Ringwraiths, newly reformed from the will of Sauron's Eye, let out horrific screams as their essence unraveled. When the Dwarven and Human Rings were destroyed, their tether to existence was severed. One by one, their spectral forms burned away like shadows before dawn, until nothing remained.
Of the original Nine, only seven endured.
But this time, Sauron did not rage. The Eye upon Barad-dûr grew cold, its fury replaced with a calculating stillness. His gaze turned westward, and all his malice focused instead on corrupting Saruman's lingering soul, determined to twist him into the mightiest servant yet, a being neither living nor dead, bound entirely to his will.
Time passed swiftly.
September 21, 2948, the day of Middle-earth's Harvest Festival, and the day of Sylas's wedding.
Weathertop Hogwarts Castle gleamed like a jewel atop the mountain. The air was filled with warmth, laughter, and the scent of flowers. Banners and garlands of bright colors hung from the towers; every corridor and courtyard had been polished to perfection.
Stewards, attendants, and guards bustled about with smiles, their excitement palpable. The marble floors reflected light like mirrors, and even the enchanted armors that normally stood silent along the halls had been freshly polished, their spears now decorated with ribbons and blooms.
The portraits that adorned the castle walls were just as lively. Many had already gathered inside a shared painting, hosting a "portrait wedding" of their own, Sylas and Arwen in miniature, standing beneath painted golden trees, surrounded by painted guests.
But the real celebration outside the frames far outshone them.
The grand road leading from the mountain's base to the castle gates was a living river of color and sound. Tens of thousands of people streamed upward, citizens, merchants, travelers, and guests from every corner of the realm. Sylas had invited everyone under his rule to witness the ceremony, and none dared refuse such an honor.
The people of Hogsmeade and Bree came bearing smiles and offerings, freshly baked bread, ripe fruits, handmade gifts, and barrels of ale. Though Sylas had forbidden presents, few listened. The air was filled with laughter, greetings, and the mingled aromas of food and flowers.
Bree City had even emptied itself a day in advance. The citizens marched in festive procession, determined not to miss the moment.
If anyone wished to attack Bree that day, they would have found it all but deserted. Yet none dared. Only months ago, thousands of ghouls had tried to invade the city, only to be annihilated in an instant by Sylas's Thunderbirds.
The memory of that storm had become legend. Bolts of divine lightning splitting the sky, burning away the undead hordes, many who witnessed it swore it was a miracle.
Bards sang of it now, their songs echoing through taverns and city squares: "The Lord of Weathertop commands the thunder, and his bird is the herald of dawn."
The residents of Hogsmeade did not need to travel far, yet they too celebrated as if the entire land were reborn. Streets were lined with lanterns; every window glowed with warm light. Children held paper charms shaped like eagles, dragons, and stars as they followed their families toward the castle gates.
By the time the procession reached the courtyard, the castle was alive with awe. People gaped at the two towering trees, the silver and gold, whose leaves shimmered with their own light. Endless petals drifted through the air, carried by unseen enchantments.
The enchanted armors bowed to passing guests, their spears adorned with blossoms. When children approached, they bent down and handed them small enchanted flowers that glowed faintly in their hands.
In the great fountain, water formed playful Merfolk that danced and leapt with joy, their laughter rippling through the crowd. Children leaned over to watch, eyes wide with wonder, until their parents scolded them to behave.
At the fountain's center, a golden statue of Smaug, crafted in perfect likeness, spread his wings, scattering illusory gold coins into the air. People eagerly tried to catch them, only to watch the coins dissolve into harmless motes of light.
Laughter rang through the courtyard.
Nearby, a choir of animated statues, Dwarves, Elves, and Humans together, sang a melodious wedding hymn that echoed through the halls, blending with the gentle chime of bells.