At the end of the Third Age, year 3018, on a bright noon, the Council of Rivendell was convened.

Presided over by Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell, the main attendees included the highest leaders of the Free Peoples: the Lord of the North, the legendary Garrett; the Grey Wizard Gandalf; the Ring-bearer Frodo; the discoverer of the One Ring Bilbo; the unassuming Noldorin Elf Glorfindel; the Dwarf Glóin and his son Gimli; Boromir, the eldest son of the Steward of Gondor; Legolas of the Woodland Realm; the Ranger Aragorn; and Galdor, the messenger of Círdan.

Several advisors of Rivendell sat beside Elrond as well.

Together, they were to discuss how to deal with the One Ring, and how to respond to the resurgence of Sauron.

“Guests from afar, and long-standing allies,” Elrond said, “you have been summoned here to confront the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth is once again on the brink of turmoil. The fates of all our peoples are bound together. We must stand united against our common enemy.”

After his opening words, he gestured, “Step forward, Ring-bearer, Frodo.”

Frodo walked up to the stone pedestal and set down the Ring.

At that moment, it felt as if the heavy stone pressing on his heart fell away with it. He let out a long breath, as though he had finally laid down a great burden.

All eyes in the room turned instantly toward the One Ring. A quiet murmur spread among them.

From that moment on, the Ring’s influence had already begun to take hold. Restlessness stirred in everyone’s hearts. Though they spoke, their eyes never left the golden band.

When Elrond signalled for silence, Gandalf, and Bilbo stood together to recount the history of the Ring and its dark origin, doing their best to describe the evil power it contained.

“It is a thing wholly of evil,” Gandalf said.

“I do not agree,” another voice said.

It was Boromir. Rising slowly, he stared fixedly at the Ring, taking step after step closer.

“I had a dream,” he said. “A dream of endless shadow, pierced by a shaft of light. And in that dream, a voice spoke: ‘Isildur’s Bane has been found.’ It is the weapon of the Enemy, but could it not also serve the Free Peoples? If Gondor wielded it, surely we could…”

His eyes grew unfocused.

He bore the entire hope of Gondor upon his shoulders. His obsession ran deep. And so, he became the first to fall under the Ring’s temptation.

Willpower check, failed.

He reached out, hand trembling, to grasp the Ring.

In that instant, Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a glance, and both looked toward Garrett.

As the guest of greatest honour, Garrett had been arranged to speak last, so he had remained silent until now. Noticing their sudden looks, he thought for a moment, gave them a steady wink and a calm nod, and then did nothing further.

The Man and the Elf hesitated, misunderstood his gesture, and decided to remain seated, giving up the idea of intervening.

Now it was his turn to be puzzled.

Wait. Wasn’t I nodding for you two to stop him? Why are you both just sitting there? Are you doing this on purpose?

Just as Boromir was about to lose control completely, he drew a deep breath, preparing to stand and restore order.

But then Elrond’s voice thundered across the hall, “Boromir!”

The young captain froze.

At that same moment, from Gandalf’s mouth came the foul, harsh sound of the Black Speech:

“One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.”

The four lines, engraved upon the Ring itself, filled the air.

As the last words were spoken, all of Rivendell plunged into shadow. Thunder rolled in the sky. Golden leaves shook loose from the trees. Nearby buildings quivered, scattering dust and fragments.

Elrond pressed his hand to his brow, feeling a headache so great it could make him go bald.

This, this was merely a fraction of Sauron’s power at his height. With words alone, he could affect the very environment of an entire region, plunging everything into darkness.

After all, Sauron was a Maia, perhaps not the strongest among them, but by no means weak.

In the darkness, Garrett and Glorfindel exchanged a look and shook their heads.

This was not a direct attack, more like a phenomenon. Neither of them had an effective way to counter it.

Meanwhile, Elrond was furious at Gandalf’s reckless decision to utter the Black Speech aloud. The effect of those four short lines had not only shaken the council chamber but the entire valley. Every Elf in Rivendell had felt the sudden descent of evil and was startled by it.

But as everyone knew, he was famously good-natured. So when Gandalf sincerely admitted his fault and apologised, he decided not to pursue the matter further.

“I do not seek your forgiveness, Lord Elrond,” Gandalf said, “but if I had not done it, they would never have grasped how dangerous the Ring truly is, nor how utterly hopeless it would be if those words ever echoed across Middle-earth again.”

“This is a blessing in disguise.”

Someone, however, still refused to give up.

Having recovered from the shock, Boromir stood once more.

“Why not use the Ring?” he said.

Thinking back to the words, ‘One Ring to rule them all’, he continued, “If we held it, the Nazgûl would have no choice but to obey. They would cease to be a threat. Gondor has sacrificed too much to hold back Mordor and the powers of the South. If we could just use it properly…”

“You cannot wield it,” Aragorn interrupted, unable to stay silent. “No one here can. The One Ring answers only to Sauron.”

“And what would a mere Ranger know of such things?”

At that, Legolas immediately stood, displeased.

“He is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”

“Aragorn… Isildur’s heir?” Boromir murmured. Then, after a pause, he muttered, “Gondor has no king… and needs no king.”

Sigh…

Watching the scene unfold, Garrett sighed softly.

“Boromir, sit down.”

His calm voice carried through the hall, and all eyes turned toward him.

Boromir froze. He opened his mouth several times but couldn’t utter a word. After a short pause, he obediently returned to his seat and fell silent.

Yes, Gondor had been bleeding and sacrificing, bearing great pressure. But the North had not had it easy either. They, too, had faced even greater burdens.

The only reason they seemed at peace was because tall, steadfast men stood at the front lines with seasoned warriors at their side, enduring everything so that others could live in safety.

Every peaceful life was bought by those who shouldered danger in their stead.

And yet… if he could claim the One Ring, perhaps he could be that tall man, the one who bore all burdens in the face of peril. Perhaps he could withstand the enemy’s onslaught, push back Mordor’s armies, even strike deep into the Black Land and destroy Sauron forever.

And then, he thought, I could destroy the Ring. I wouldn’t make the same mistake as Isildur.

All of it would be for the sake of eradicating evil, for lasting peace and safety. What could be wrong with that?

Remembering his father’s words before his departure, Boromir slowly closed his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping him.

Beneath his proud and forceful exterior, beneath that yearning for power, was a heart full of tension and worry. His father’s expectations, his people’s hopes, the faith of his brother and comrades, all of Gondor seemed to rest on his shoulders, pressing him down.

Clack.

Suddenly, a warm, almost searingly hot hand rested on his broad, weary shoulder.

“There’s no need to burden yourself so much, Boromir. Remember what I told you. If something troubles you, tell me. I’m here, and I’ll help however I can. Or…” Garrett’s tone softened with a faint smile. “Do you need a hug?”

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Completed at Chapter 405!

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