Prelude

"This Vanimo, as he calls himself, is not of this realm. Yet there is little that even the Powers of Arda can do to staunch the bleeding of the world. Or Worlds, as we have now. How many are we? Who can count the endless reflection of two mirrors? Not even We can see the innumerable reflections, the shards of the glass.

"It is but small comfort that such distortion is allowed by Our Father. Twisted realities, misshapen races and Children of Ilúvatar held as thralls of Time itself. Time, which has no master, which bows to no lesser god, which is broken and crafted by this Vanimo. Vanimo upon Vanimos. Power setting itself upon Power. Destructions upon destructions.

"How many times have we sent forth Heroes to battle this foe, this Enemy that we cannot touch? None can say; not even I – Master of Doom – can say. Yet I can say this: It is over. Those that were sent have accomplished their mission. All of the Vanimos that have wrought such unspeakable misery upon us have been destroyed. We have no need to fear the Final Annihilation, as we once did. We will survive. Most of us. Although many of the hundreds of tens of thousands of Realities will perish under their own weight, most of us will live. Although many of us will live in a twisted, unrecognizable form, live we will.

"We have spoken in hushed voices of how this came to be. None of us has spoken the truth regarding the matter, so I will: Vanimo’s power over time came to be because of our inaction. It came to be because at the Akallabêth we laid down our powers over Arda. We separated ourselves from the World. In our haughtiness and pride – nay in this even the arrogance of Melkor does not match ours - we allowed this to happen. An Orb of Time, crafted by a race that we did not watch, did not care for. Whom shall we blame? Those who – while seeking the wisdom of the ages – found a power that could not be wielded by even the most wise of the Earth? No. We are to blame. We took upon ourselves a charge to guide and help the Children of Ilúvatar. When we were met with the slightest of quandary, we abandoned them. We bent the earth and made straight The Way to our realms. Their prayers, their supplications, their hopes and their true needs - we hear nothing. We sit here in splendor, while the world destroys itself.

"Shall the widow and the orphan cower in fear, wondering what the orders of their next Master will be? Shall the kindhearted be bereft of everything by the cruel? Shall our ears be stopped from hearing the cry of the oppressed?

"No more. The time of our inaction has passed. We shall prostrate ourselves at the feet of The One. We shall beg His forgiveness for bringing the beauty of his Song to the brink of destruction. We shall bend the world back. We shall hear those who implore our Names, by whatever Names they may call us. We shall never again forsake those whom we love. No longer shall our hubris cause such death and destruction."

Mandos sat. The others of the Ring of Doom looked at each other. Never had the Lord of Doom spoken so much at one time.

Manwë rose and spoke quietly, the humbled King of the Valar. "With the words of Mandos, none can disagree. We shall do as he says. However, that does not answer the question regarding the heroes of which Mandos has spoken, those that were sent to fight the Vanimos. What are we to do with these heroes? These, who fought and destroyed the Enemy that was for us, unassailable? These, who destroyed the Vanimos of the Universes? Their own homes are no more. They are orphans of space and time."

Manwë sat, and for a moment all was silent. Then Oromë stood. "This is a simple answer. They have not fought for glory, nor for conquest, nor for anything but their love for their fellow Children. Their value in the Ainulindalë cannot be underestimated. There are worlds enough that we can find a place for them, where they can continue to do good for others, where they can fight the Enemies of the Children of Eru.

"What shall we do with them?

"We send them back."

That prelude had the ring of a epic poem or perhaps the unwritten epilogue to the Silmarillion. A lovely piece of prose. I think this is one of the best pieces of writing you have, to this point, ever undertaken. Good work.

It's good to read that Vanino, the great pain in the ass, really turned out to be biggest pain in the ass everywhere, for man and god. That's a rather grand reveal. Those silly Valar. Content to live within the three dimensions while ignoring the fourth dimension of time. Go back to Astrophysics 101, Valar.

"No more. The time of our inaction has passed. We shall prostrate ourselves at the feet of The One. We shall beg His forgiveness for bringing the beauty of his Song to the brink of destruction. We shall bend the world back. We shall hear those who implore our Names, by whatever Names they may call us. We shall never again forsake those whom we love. No longer shall our hubris cause such death and destruction."

Huzzah. The Valar are coming back. Time for the Second Coming. Or is it the Third Coming? Sixth? I forget.

The others of the Ring of Doom looked at each other.

I do realize that the Valar need a place to confer, but couldn't they find a place a little larger than Sauron's ring of doom?

What are we to do with these heroes? These, who fought and destroyed the Enemy that was for us, unassailable? These, who destroyed the Vanimos of the Universes? Their own homes are no more. They are orphans of space and time."

Nuts. I knew it. The Valar were just playing a game of Arkham Horror the whole time, and we were the investigators lost in time and space. Since this the case, we don't really need to worry about any help from the gods of Middle Earth. We will eventually appear on the streets of a New England town in a few turns.

Alpha Centauri wrote:That prelude had the ring of a epic poem or perhaps the unwritten epilogue to the Silmarillion. A lovely piece of prose. I think this is one of the best pieces of writing you have, to this point, ever undertaken. Good work.      

Thank you. Compliments from one such as yourself are highly prized.  

Alpha Centauri wrote:I do realize that the Valar need a place to confer, but couldn't they find a place a little larger than Sauron's ring of doom?

  I know you're being sarcastic, but: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minor_places_in_Arda#M.C3.A1hanaxar

Alpha Centauri wrote:We will eventually appear on the streets of a New England town in a few turns.      

Yes but remember that you'll be Delayed for a round.