There were three children
born in their own ways
into the Dynasty.
One was from a House that has lost its face.
Another from a House cannot make up its mind.
The last from a House with far too much at stake.
Another from a House cannot make up its mind.
The last from a House with far too much at stake.
Who would have known that their souls
would sing to the Heavens and lure back
Solar vengeance?
One remembers dreams of a massive kingdom
with armies that reach from horizon to horizon.
A general among generals.
The other glimpses nightmares of monstrosities and demons,
of beasts and of automatons,
all bowing their heads low in mystically-enforced respect.
The last envisions nations at war ceasing to hear her single voice.
Mountains bowing to let her pass.
An ocean captured in a net to win a duel.
These are memories of lives they have never lived.
These are legends that have never been spoken by mortal lips.
These are legends that have never been spoken by mortal lips.
These are shards of a Solar Empire.
Preludes. Written records of the Archivist Sele Anaxis
Once there was a maiden,
her eyes read the lines between the words,
and her lips whispered the meanings of every silent moment.
It was her brush that remained ever moving,
ever speaking, ever dancing.
She stared at her brush and heard it sing,
She stared at her brush and heard it sing,
"Truth disguises the best lies."
