A final writing of Varda, the lady of winter skies, who's home is in the stars and she is metaphorically as bright as one herself.

This prophecy of Varda is the final act– the conclusion of all evil.

" How can the deep roots of a tree be outlasted by its highest sprouting twigling? How can the foundations of a house be outlived by its roof? Yet that is how things have become. I myself must die but my offspring live on. This is how mortals live. Yet I was not a mortal. I was immortal, for times to time endless before the setting of the sun. "

I am Varda, Lady of the Bright Lights. Here I am being torn out of the never ending heavens and put into a grave of the kind that robbers and murderers are buried in. From pulsating lights upon a crisp shadeless void, to sleeping in the dirt.

I am Varda, Lady of the Bright Lights. From the thrones of the Aratar I am being taken to sleep alongside worms and bugs and the creepy things of the world.

And what will I, Varda, Lady of the Bright Lights say in reply to this matter? Should I die wordless and empty against the dying of the light? No I shall not.

For a twig was sprouted. One smaller than the branch it was born to, yet this one has broken free and caused the downfall of the entire mass of the tree. That the roots should be pulled up and its body burnt in age whilst the twig goes on to sprout branches of its own.

This 'Pythas', whom I was first acquainted with as the apprentice mason of times past, will live after I have died. Yet what will he take with him? Dominance? Power? No indeed. The world will rage and scream as we fade, and once it is left alone, will it answer to the Dark Lord?

Hear the Prophecy of Varda, Lady of the Stars, as she speaks in terms of Pythas in riddles;

"You came down from the vast reaches of outer space. You lusted after the brightest of the stars; the silver moons you craved. You came from the tent of the smith to sit in the courtroom of the Aratar. You were once in the gate of the Valar as a lesser one, but in your heart you desired the temple's innermost rooms. So you schemed in your heart the master plan. You deceived those mightier than you were. You brought down those stronger than you. In your cowardess you let them meet their end. "

"I am old and weak. My strength has left me. My eyes stare straight on, but they do not see. My ears listen attentively, but no sound reaches them. So if my eyes and my ears are of no use, then my tongue will have the last say."

"In your lust you had it all. The brightest stars and the mightiest pulsars are yours. The twirling nebulas in their finest garb are now yours to command after I die. Everything under the stars and above them are yours. But in your insatiable greed, you will desire the one last thing that is not yours, but mine."

"As if the universe was not enough, you will desire one final thing. The lady of winter skies will be your aim. And you will have her. But in the act, you will come all the way to your end, and you will cease to exist for all time."

To my daughters and sons, the final act.