Mark ye well: the pieces fell
to dungeons dark and sorrow-ridden.
Yet heed this fate; t’will illuminate
lunar stones long-lost and hidden.
One was buried in the soul
of men – at the heart of spirit;
another set for all to see
Fair Heritage safely keeps it.
One was stored ‘neath earth and snow;
the other shocked to heaven.
One was given away, now rides the sea
on vessels of transgression.
One was lost to a broken heart—
turned by fear, bound dark in beast.
And one lies within you, calls to the sea
to be fully and finally released.
If seek ye must the ocean's relics,
this caution take with thee:
beware the kiss of friendly lips;
beware all prophecy.
For fortunes slip twixt cup and lip.
What is right may not be what is heard.
Many men have twisted truth—
their dark purposes to serve.
So mind Memoro’s histories—
what is written is not always the real.
And beware the lure of painless Peace;
Beware its simple, subtle appeal.
For ancient folk still lurk below
Fathom Thrones lurk deeper yet.
But wandering souls that threaten you
May help you heal Amaura’s debt.
So do not fear the rising tide,
nor fear the dark sea’s rage.
For I am with you always—
Even to the end of the age.