Chapter 351: The Star Ring and Levi
"It feels a bit too quiet."
Levi drew out a torch and started up the stairs, step by steady step.
"Saruman, are you there?"
"If you do not come out, I will put a torch to this tower and burn it from top to bottom."
He shouted and waited for a time, but nothing stirred.
That settled it. Saruman really was gone.
If he had been here, he would already have come storming out, staff in hand, to yell at him for such talk.
Clack.
In the deep silence and darkness of the tower, his footsteps sounded all the louder as he climbed, watching his surroundings with care.
He kept on until he reached the top.
Whoosh.
One by one the lamps on their high pillars caught from his torch. Warm yellow light filled the room again.
No one.
Levi looked around.
All he saw were scattered notes on the floor, a desk in disarray, and a scorched patch on the flagstones of the balcony, as if lightning had struck there.
"Looks like someone got what was coming," he muttered, shaking his head.
The fight had been fiercer than he had imagined. From the marks left behind, that bolt had hit hard enough that even he would have lost a good chunk of his shield to it, never mind Gandalf or Saruman.
"Huh?"
He had searched the whole top floor and was about to look elsewhere when, from some unnoticed corner of the floor, a flicker of silver-white light caught his eye.
Levi crouched and picked up the source of the gleam.
"A ring?"
"A Nether Star?!"
He actually stared.
"Did Saruman make this?"
Who else could have?
He scooped up the fallen notes, dug through the tower's drawers and cupboards for Saruman's old manuscripts, and at last found a name.
The Star Ring.
It was a Ring of Power forged with the strength of a Nether Star, able to grant its wearer potent boons.
"Its power stands a little above the Three Rings of the Elves, though it is far beneath the One," the notes read.
Levi could feel the trace of frustration in Saruman's hand.
The White Wizard, or as he styled himself, Saruman of Many Colours, was as besotted with the One Ring as ever, forever turning it over in his mind.
Still… a Ring of Power.
Levi looked down at the Star Ring in his palm, thinking.
By rights, each Ring of Power held some unique authority, almost at the level of a law of the world, as well as a straight increase in the bearer's strength. So what did a Ring forged with a Nether Star do?
Curiosity tugged at him.
He slipped the Star Ring onto his finger.
Far away, in a dark iron cage bristling with spikes, a ragged-robed Saruman's eyes snapped open.
A thin, satisfied smile curled his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Back in the tower, the change hit Levi the instant the Ring settled.
Power flooded out from the Star Ring and spread through every part of him.
The first, most obvious shift was his health. His life-bar jumped by half again, from twenty to thirty points. Just by wearing the Ring, he had gained a permanent increase to his maximum health.
Then came a strange clarity. His thoughts felt sharper. His sight was crisper. His senses stretched further than before. His reactions were quicker.
And now, at last, he could truly feel something he had only half-grasped until then: the faint, elusive presence of magic itself, a sensitivity usually reserved for Elves or a few rare, gifted beings.
Last of all, the Star Ring lent him strength in another way.
It was not the "Strength" that showed up in his status bar, but a deeper blessing on his total power, a hidden attribute that scaled his blows directly.
Roughly speaking, it lifted his attack power by about twenty percent.
All this, and none of it written openly in his attributes or buff list, left Levi more than a little awed.
"So this is what a Ring of Power is like. No wonder so many people lose their heads over them, even with their souls at risk," he said quietly.
On the hand of someone "in theory" still a Man like him, the Ring granted this much. On a wizard whose roots of power ran deeper, the increase would be far greater.
In a sense, it raised the wearer's strength in proportion to what he already had.
Wait…
As he probed the Star Ring's workings, another feeling crept over him, tied to that new sense for magic the Ring had opened.
"Oh. There is something else I missed."
The Star Ring could also mimic the power of a beacon.
After a moment's thought, Levi chose Resistance.
Even at the first tier, that meant twenty percent less damage taken. That was no small thing.
Dragonflame Steel armour, a runic shield, a permanent Resistance buff… he was starting to feel absurdly hard to kill.
Not bad at all.
It was weaker than a full beacon's highest output, and he could only choose a single first-tier effect, but the Star Ring was a ring. It was far more portable, and its blessing fell on the wearer alone, not on anyone else who happened to be nearby.
Saruman really had forged something good.
Pity he could not be found. Otherwise, Levi might have been willing to pay a real price to "buy" it properly for himself.
Now Levi had one more reason to go hunting him.
But where in the world had the man gone?
Scratching his hair, Levi frowned.
The Star Ring seemed to be tugging in some uncanny way, as if offering guidance, but to Levi it felt like a language he had never learned. All he had was confusion.
He could not read it at all.
Far from Isengard, the smile faded slowly from a certain prisoner's face.
Enough, then.
There were others more suited to this sort of thing.
Levi searched the vale of Isengard again from end to end. When he was sure there was nothing else of note, he mounted and set off back the way he had come.
There was a Gandalf ready-made at Roadside Keep. He could ask him.
If Gandalf could not unravel it, there was still Elrond. Failing that, he could ride to the Golden Wood and ask Lady Galadriel. Someone would understand.
"Wait for me, Saruman," he said under his breath.
…
"Boromir! Boromir!"
On the eastern side of Osgiliath, the soldiers of Gondor roared the name of the man standing on the highest broken arch.
Boromir had raised Gondor's banner again over the ruins. Lifting his iron sword, which glimmered ever so faintly, he cried in a loud voice,
"This city was once the jewel of our kingdom. Light, beauty, and music met here. And from this day, it will shine so again!"
"Yeah!"
The rousing words drew a storm of cheers from the men.
"Let the armies of Mordor remember this. Never again will the homes of our people fall into their hands!"
"The city of Osgiliath is reclaimed for Gondor!"
"For Gondor!"
"For Gondor!" they shouted, until the whole city rang.
Only last month, from out of nowhere, the Nazgûl had returned and led a full assault. The Orcs along the frontier had nearly emptied their nests.
The Ringwraith and the fell beast under him had been terrible to behold. The monster's cry froze hearts. The Nazgûl themselves burned in the sky like sick green suns, pouring down terror and foulness.
Even with high, strong walls, Osgiliath had not held.
To ordinary men, the Nazgûl were foes beyond all measure. Without some way to counter them, they would pin you and break you at their leisure.
Yet, by some means no one quite understood, word of their coming had reached the city just before they arrived.
The two captains, then holding Osgiliath, Boromir and Faramir, had taken counsel. In the end, at Faramir's urgent urging, they had agreed to fall back for a time.
The brothers themselves did not fear the Nazgûl. They would gladly have ridden out to meet them. The soldiers, though, were another matter. With that aura of dread bearing down on them, they would hardly be able to fight at all.
It had been the right call. They had been spared needless losses.
Gondor's host had crossed the bridge, abandoned East Osgiliath, and held the western half for a long while. Only when the Nazgûl received some new command and drew off did Boromir lead the counter-attack, driving the Orcs out at minimal cost and reclaiming the eastern city again.
When Boromir came down from his perch, Faramir hurried to meet him.
The first thing they did was clasp one another in a hard embrace.
There was no need to speak of the bond between them.
"Good speech. Short and sharp," Faramir said, by way of verdict.
"Leaves more time for a decent drink," Boromir grinned.
They both burst into loud laughter, brothers rejoicing together in their victory.
Until another figure approached.