The Tale of Balsakaen
Long ago, the stars twinkled and told a tale yet to come.
A tale of despair for the present and hidden promise for the future.
Such was written the fate of this little group of mountain dwellers.
Yet steadfast they were in their ways, trusting in their own grandeur.
Long ago, the masses assembled and were thus peered by scrupulous eyes.
Timeless Observers, capable only of singular power.
Nay a power, to face the creeping, moonlit fingers that spelled doom.
Yet steadfast they were in battle, for who else possibly could.
Long ago and for a time, ill fate was thought dispelled.
With faith in their warriors, the people held stronger.
With those thoughts, the fight to survive placated.
Yet victory was only seen in a future where all of time could be found.
Long ago evermore, power had called them here.
And its echo would reach for many more.
Of time-spanned lands they will be, bolstered by unique strengths.
Yet here they would pool, seeking the enchanting call.
Long ago then, the critic would commit a sin.
To build and give to land, only to steal and take from life.
A great prison fit for the indomitable spirit of his people.
Yet here it would stand, for many generations to come.
Not so long ago, after those who rose and collapsed before calamity,
it stood in defiance of time and awaited patiently.
A people with the mind to make their strength the power of many.
Yet now it will wake, at the ring of the worthy.
Such was the tale once told on a starry night,
A stubborn stand against prophecy.
The tragic battle without end.
A gambit against greater foe, a hope cast across time.
Such was the tale of the great traitor-thief, Balsakaen.
