While a child, tragedy struck - his city destroyed, his mother transformed, and his father relocated beyond an impassable sea. He was taken away, raised by the enemy, and trained in lore and swords. Then, returned to the lands of others, he rose to military command.
Now, standing on a cliff overlooking the gates of Thangorodrim, he saw them open. The dragons, led by Ancalagon, took to the skies. Above, untouchable yet nearer to him than his old memories or his unknown future, was his father; flying Vingilot, fighting Morgoth’s winged spawn, and finally victorious. It was a bittersweet victory.