Prologue
When Seed grows thin beneath the Veil,
and Shadows drink where oaths have failed,
four sleeping names shall stir and keep
the old world breathing under sleep.
First, Water wakes where grief is deep,
to hold the truth the drowned things keep.
Then Air shall rise through whispered halls,
to name the lie before it falls.
Earth shall root where blood was sown,
and make the broken ground its own.
Fire shall come with crown and flame,
to seal the wound no fear may name.
Mark not the heart before it chooses,
bind not the soul the old law loses.
No vow may claim what fear has chained,
no fate may speak where choice remains.
When four shall stand and four shall fall,
the Veil shall hear the ancient call.
Let love be named, but never owned;
let truth be carried, not enthroned.
For Water remembers,
and Air reveals;
Earth endures,
and Fire seals.
Bury the Seed in willing flame,
and none who return shall rise the same.
