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On the surface the All-Father and His Companions looked in wonder upon the newborn Sun. All were wearied by the great battle, and the All-Father's wounds were grievous indeed. Kenaryn mourned the loss of his mighty spear, won in battle against the Hosts of Chaos, and Thurin's axe had melted at the touch of the Dragon's blood. And yet, the three Gods were filled with joy, for the Doom of the World had been averted. And so all the Elves emerged from hiding, there beneath the newborn Sun, and praised the name of the All-Father, who had driven this terror from them. But one mighty Elf-Lord, Sillestor of the Endless Wood, was dismayed. "This new Sun brings light unto the World, and its light is good and fair. Yet even in this light, a shadow broods in my heart.

For how can I know that this Terror will not rise again, to wreak an even greater havoc? All our sundered cities, even if they reach their former glory, will stand ever in the gloom of a Lurking Fear. How shall we escape this shadow?" The All-Father was silent, and thought long. At last spoke Thurin, the Shaper, Father of the Dwarves. "Fear not, forest child," spake he, "for though this fell beast casts the Shadow of Doom, it has kindled the Sun, greatest of lights. So shall it kindle another light to drive away all shadows." And Thurin took up the broken shaft of Callanthyr and went back into the earth, to the mansions of his children. There he began his greatest work.