The Precursors, the legacy promised:
The foggy land beyond came into view in the far distance.
Spires fling upwards towards the sky, reaching ever higher for their goal.
The clouds overshadow beams of light, darkness encloses.
The world is a black haze, confusion and fury runs itself through hearts like sand through a net.
The majestic sea claps at the hillside, begging more to fall into its maw.
The beasts of the lands beyond beckon at the newcomers, awaiting a feast.
Through the fog, we march towards the spires.
To an imperative conflict through the plains.
Plains of black tundra’s, dark and cold.
Ever for the one cared.
The beasts impede the movement.
They fall to the blade of the necessary.
Purest of the dark flow in the land, the aeons swirl through divinities.
Spires reach up to the sky, twisting for their goal.
They know where they lay.
They know what it is that lies.
Forever more knowing the three will be together.
Boundless, and invincible.
As frail as a flower.
The aeons with them even in death follow.
Endlessly the conflicts spew the darkness away.
If what does never end, shall one day perish,
The end will never be its demise,
For what is reached through the arches of the cowardly…
…The prevailing calamity…
Ever onward, like death does it follow.
The one of the life.
The one who protects.
The one of endless.
The three, there forever.
Inseparable, through any means.
Invincible, forever together.
One last life to sway.
Nothing to be thrown.
Nothing there to be found.
Only wishing forever for it to stay.
Never understanding that it does.
Our hearts tread through the bogs.
Our souls tread through the conflicts.
Our beings prevail to bring each other’s along.
Forever with grace, within eternity.
The spires fall as the three prevail through the failing dark.
The three conquering oncoming foes.
Mysteries forever sealed within the dark.
The light guiding them.
Trinity of Aeons.
The Order of Archon.
The remnants of Ikane.