Once there was a rune existed,
Powerful and divine, it was exalted.
Born out of darkness,
An own will, it possesses,
Its chosen bearer, known as the goddess.
Ceasing the flow of time immemorial,
As the rune willed it, the goddess grew immortal.
Presiding over life and death,
Executing with each breath,
Balancing nature, it kept.
And though the rune was revered as a blessing,
Along came a curse, contained a memory so haunting,
That even she with the strongest of will, would be left trembling.
But the world of men flourished,
Guided by the rune and the goddess who nourished.
Its boon, the rune sustained,
Yet man’s lust could not be contained,
And his insatiable hunger grew, like that of a plague.
With the rune’s continued existence, its power remained absolute,
But it corrupted, even the most resolute.
Reaping the seeds of greed man sowed upon the land,
Committing the gravest of sin in one command,
Rising to his call, the flames of war, abound.
Gone were the peaceful days,
For with this betrayal, he has been led astray,
And thus, no longer the rune could stay.
The haunting memory of a future ashen,
To fruition it would come, only if the rune is taken.
And with the only recourse, she fled,
But even as the land bled,
The man continued his conquest instead.
Alas, under the blue moonlight, the goddess took her stand,
And man, consumed by his greed and lust, laid out his demand.
With unfaltering resolve, she fought,
Even as she faced the entire army the man brought,
Hoping that everything will not be for naught.
But even in the face of certain death,
A brighter future, she dreamed.
Summoning the last of her strength,
By protecting the rune, may mankind be redeemed.
Rhapsodia Chronicles: Into a World of Illusion