Three figures moved in formation, Aragorn positioning Frodo and Sam between them, shielding the two Hobbits in the center.The creature, Gollum, was bound by a rope around his neck and obediently dragged along by Sam.
The Tower of the Black Gate was the final gateway into Mordor. From here, a great road stretched northward toward Barad-dûr.
Under normal circumstances, Frodo and his companions would never have dared to walk this road openly. They would have followed Gollum's guidance through the eastern ravines of the Shadow Mountains, winding slowly north.
But now, transformed by Polyjuice into half-Orcs, they felt no such pressure.
They walked boldly and without concealment.
The Black Gate was garrisoned by several thousand Orcs and Uruk-hai. When Frodo's group approached, they did not attract much attention.
The only thing that drew notice was the pitiful creature being dragged behind them.
A tall Uruk stepped forward, blocking the road.
"Who are you?" he growled in the Black Speech. "And what is that thing?"
The group tensed instantly. Legolas and Gimli subtly shifted their stances, ready to strike if necessary.
Gollum trembled violently, his face contorted in terror.
Aragorn stepped forward, lowering his head respectfully and answering in a rough, guttural Black Speech.
"We are a patrol. This creature is a suspect we captured on the road. We are taking him to the tower for interrogation."
The Uruk-hai, Saruman's breed, stronger and of higher status than common Orcs, opened his mouth to reply.
Then the wind shifted.
A wave of stench hit him full in the face.
His expression twisted instantly into disgust and fury. He staggered backward, nearly gagging.
"Filthy swine, what in Morgoth's name is that smell?! Are you eating filth?! Get out! Get out!"
The guards recoiled in horror, shouting curses as they waved them away. Even Orcs, accustomed to filth, could not endure such an assault on their senses.
No one wanted to be anywhere near creatures that looked, and smelled, like they had crawled out of a cesspit.
Thus, without further inspection, the group passed through the Black Gate unchallenged and continued along the road toward Mount Doom.
Meanwhile
Sylas, Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Glorfindel, and Sauron, had been locked in battle for three days and three nights.
The land was utterly ruined.
Gandalf raised his staff, summoning a bolt of lightning from the skies, only to be smashed apart midair by the Dark Lord's spiked mace.
Elrond fought on despite grievous losses. His elven blade had long since been shattered; now he wielded Brisingr, borrowed from Sylas, striking with unwavering resolve.
Glorfindel's radiance had dimmed, yet his spirit burned fiercely. With the divine spear Aiglos in hand, he pressed Sauron without pause.
Galadriel stood apart, calm and terrifying.
In her hands was a golden bow gifted long ago by Sylas, an artifact of unerring accuracy. Each silver arrow she loosed was wrapped in pure light, streaking across the battlefield like falling stars.
No matter how Sauron moved, the arrows followed.
Sylas activated the Earth Ring, and the land itself answered.
Golden light surged from the ground, forming an unbreakable barrier linked directly to the earth. Around it, stone and soil twisted into roaring earthen dragons, their spined bodies erupting upward as earthquakes split the plain.
Boulders shattered. The ground screamed.
Sauron's fell beast was struck down by Galadriel's arrow, then crushed utterly beneath Sylas's earth-shattering assault.
Yet Sauron stood unmoved in the void.
His power had returned to its peak. With flesh restored and will unbroken, he remained supremely confident.
But no matter how fiercely he struck, he could not break through Sylas's defense.
This realization drove Sauron into fury.
The situation had reached a deadlock: Sylas and his allies could not break through Sauron's power, and Sauron, in turn, could not harm them while they stood beneath the protection of the Earth Ring.
What enraged him most was not that the defense was flawless, but why it could not be broken.
Sylas had bound the Ring to the earth itself.
Every blow Sauron struck against the shield was, in effect, a blow against Arda.
And Arda was vast, ancient, and immeasurably heavy, bearing the weight of the world itself. Even a being of Sauron's stature could not shatter it by brute force.
Not yet.
Sauron understood this clearly.
Though his power had returned to its peak and his physical form was restored, that strength was still borrowed, an inheritance from Morgoth, not something wholly his own.
More importantly, the One Ring, the true anchor of his existence, was bound to his very life.
And he felt it.
A deep, gnawing unease spread through him.
The Ring was no longer where it should be.
If anything happened to it… destruction would be final.
Sauron abandoned the stalemate instantly.
There was no reason to continue wasting power here.
First, he would reclaim the Ring.
Then he would return, and annihilate them all.
With that decision made, his form dissolved into a vast, living shadow, streaking westward through the sky.
Sylas's expression changed sharply.
"Not good," he said coldly. "He's going for Hogwarts."
Without another word, Sylas transformed into a blazing phoenix and vanished in a burst of golden flame.
The phoenix's transit far surpassed Apparition or Portkeys, almost instantly, he reappeared atop Hogwarts' highest tower, Amon Sûl.
From the distance, Sauron's shadow surged toward him like a stormfront.
Sylas activated the Earth Ring.
A colossal golden dome erupted from the ground, enveloping Hogwarts and Hogsmeade below, its foundation sinking deep into the mountain itself.
Sauron slammed into it with a thunderous impact.
The collision sent shockwaves through the land. Mountains trembled.
Boulders thundered down the slopes. The Black Lake churned into towering waves.
Hogsmeade's inhabitants fled in terror, crushed beneath the suffocating pressure of Sauron's presence.
Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond returned at once through Portkeys to reinforce the defense.
Then suddenly, Sauron froze.
His attack halted mid-motion.
"No…"
His eyes burned crimson as realization struck.
"The Ring is not here."
His gaze locked onto Sylas and Gandalf.
"Where is it?" he demanded, fury and disbelief twisting his voice."Where have you hidden the One Ring? Why can I no longer sense it?"
No one answered.
The defenders moved instead.
High above, Thorondor, the Thunderbird tore through the clouds, commanding the storm itself. Lightning split the sky, hammering down upon Sauron.
From the depths of the lake, the Kraken rose, hurling titanic walls of water upward like grasping tentacles.
And from the battlements, Smaug unleashed his vengeance, dragonfire hotter than molten stone.
Sauron answered with absolute power.
Darkness erupted outward, erasing lightning, flame, and water alike.
Everything beyond the golden dome, stretching for dozens of miles, was reduced to desolation.
Mountains flattened. Forests turned to ash.
The land itself screamed.
Only Hogwarts and Hogsmeade remained untouched beneath the Earth Ring's protection.
Sauron's gaze sharpened, piercing through illusion and distance alike.
"The Ring is not in the west," he said slowly.
A terrible smile crept across his face.
"You never intended to send it to Valinor. That was merely bait, to draw me here."
His voice dropped, filled with certainty.
"The One Ring is in the east… already moving toward Mount Doom."
...
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