Black and white, a blue crystal it cradles within.
From the Sunken Moon it came, in the green earth it must remain.
Kept safe in the hands of a king,
Kept safe in a living embrace.
Lost it cannot be, but lost it was.
Male and tall, with horns to hide and teeth to bare,
A chief carries a treacherous hand.
Taken, he has. Taken what he should not.
Found, it cannot be. Not by a force, nor by simply a trusted friend.
A worthy youth, an Yrithar eager to prove.
River born, marked with floral, difficult to forget.
A nymph belonging to the Sunken Moon,
To the dark night, to the electricity in the sky.
You will not find, 'til Uir's Haven is breached.
