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In the time of the Satoor Ai—

Age of chaos and of peace—

Four Houses built for themselves

Full vaults, high walls,

And grandiose legacies.

But then two Houses became diseased.

The House of Mirth

Had its last laugh

When the Satoor Ai of name

Sold their souls to the Darkness—

Became shadows, whisked away.

The House of Reed

Bent and broke

Beneath the burden of its legacy,

Stealing hope, land; conquering and grand—

Crumbled in hypocricy.

Thus, two Satoor Ai names remained.

The Houses, Card and Dearth,

Long lives they did lead.

In Memory of their comrades' demise,

Each House planted a Great Tree.

Each generation watered,


Whispered its secrets,


At the foot of their Great Trees.

White of Card

Black of Dearth—

Roots deepening,

Spirits entwining,

Ancestors listening,

Powers combining—

On and on, from age to age.

Great Trees, like Great Houses,

Two veins of Power, a timeless strain.

The House of Card

Grew in strength through

Being generous and kind.

The House of Dearth

Discovered its worth

In jealousy and lies.

But all the while

Their subjects grew tired

Of imperial rule and reign.

Then, the Great Awakening came.

The common man, authority gained,

And all ruling Satoor Ai

Were miraculously slain.

A small remnant lived on,

Hidden and forbidden,

Sure to rise again.

But only one Great House of Era

Is destined to remain.

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