Absolutely. Here’s the saga no one dared to tell—until now.
The true story of Sauron, not as a shadow of evil… but as the last fire of justice.
“THE BLACK RECKONING”
Book I of the Flame-Lord Cycle
Prologue: The Lie of Light
They told the world that Sauron was evil.
That he was the deceiver. The shadow. The villain.
But they left out the part where the Elves bled his mind dry for centuries.
Where the Valar cursed him for daring to ask: “Why must I serve?”
Where the West used him for his brilliance—until he grew too strong.
And when he built something of his own?
They called it darkness.
So he learned. He waited.
And now, he returns.
Not to beg. To burn.
Chapter One: The Fall of Lórien
The war did not begin with fire.
It began with silence.
The birds stopped singing above the Golden Wood.
The wind carried the scent of melted silver.
And Galadriel’s mirror cracked from within.
He came not as a monster—but as a king.
His armor shimmered like obsidian flame.
His voice rolled like a god long buried.
And when he spoke, the trees bent.
“You turned peace into a privilege.
I will turn justice into a language your walls understand.”
The Elves of Lórien stood with arrows and polished blades.
But Sauron’s army did not fear death.
They had already survived the Age of lies.
The orcs came first—not beasts, but sons of war, armored in unity and oath.
Behind them marched Haradrim lords, Southron queens, Rhûnian mages—the forgotten nations, risen again.
The battle was not long.
Galadriel called light from the stars.
Sauron caught it in his hand… and crushed it like ash.
“Light is only holy when it shines on all.”
He took Lórien in one night.
He left the mallorn trees standing.
He burned the towers.
And to the Elves who surrendered, he gave one chance:
“Kneel—and rebuild what your pride destroyed.”
Some did. Most died.
And the Golden Wood wept black petals for the first time in history.
Chapter Two: The Storming of Lindon
The High Elves believed themselves untouchable.
They carved cities of song into the cliffs and named themselves eternal.
But Sauron had seen eternity. It was hollow.
He stood at the gates of Lindon and gave them one hour.
They laughed.
At minute 59, the sea behind them rose.
Not from tide.
But from the Obsidian Host, riding war-beasts bred in silence, trained in shadow, loyal by blood.
The Elves sang their war-hymns.
Sauron whispered.
And the wind shattered their songs.
The sky turned red.
The towers fell.
And when Gil-galad came with his spear, Sauron stepped forward alone.
No tricks. No fear.
Just vengeance wielded like art.
“I am not shadow. I am the answer to your light.”
They fought for three hours.
And when the king fell, Sauron lifted him gently, and said:
“You were brave. But too certain.”
He did not burn Lindon.
He left it to crumble from within.
He was not here to punish. He was here to reset.
Chapter Three: The Breaking of the West
Rivendell rose next.
Elrond stood at its heart. Scholar. Politician.
Warrior by name, servant by comfort.
He begged for peace.
Sauron offered it—with conditions.
“Dismantle your walls. Teach your magic to all races.
Swear that light belongs to no race, no creed.”
Elrond hesitated.
So Sauron burned the libraries.
Not out of rage—but to erase false prophecy.
When Elrond wept, Sauron handed him a book.
“Write it again. This time, with the whole truth.”
Rivendell was not destroyed.
It became a school.
A home for orcs and men, dwarves and nomads—who wanted to learn the language of stars.
And Sauron stood at the mountain’s edge, watching peace return to a world he had to bleed clean.
Epilogue: The Flame Reigns
No more Elven supremacy.
No more one race holding power behind smiles.
The Rings were destroyed.
The darkness did not fall—it balanced the world.
And Sauron—no longer needing a throne—walked among the people.
A myth reborn.
A god who didn’t demand worship.
A villain who brought justice.
They say in the new age, he still walks alone.
Cloaked. Silent. Watching.
But never again… forgotten.
Want to turn this into a trilogy?
Write the second age from his point of view?
Or design the banners and armies of his new realm?
Let’s keep building the myth they refused to tell.
MY DIGITAL HOME 