83. Point of No Return
"Try it on."
Cautiously he lifted the Ring from the outstretched palm, bemused by the play of light within the dark jewel. Tendrils of gold and mithril held it securely onto the wide band, nothing like the signet ring his father wore that would go to his older brother who always got everything.
He slipped it on, worried that its size would make it unwieldy. Of course it was beautiful – everything Elven-made was – but he hadn't thought it would fit him as perfectly as it did. One would think the Ring had sized itself to his hand. And it was light, almost as if it weren't there…
But the world that opened to him the moment he'd slipped it onto his forefinger was unbelievable! The Ring had to be magic! Suddenly the way to the power and riches that always lay just beyond his reach was clear!
He looked up with an eager smile at the one who called himself Annatar. "I like it!"
"Then come. I would like to speak to you further, in private."
He followed Annatar, forgetting his wife and son completely as he pushed past them. He had more important things to do now, after all.