“Our prophecy from Argine, scorned, could not of doom keep her forewarned; but though we laugh her to her cell, without her are we not chained as well? Grim has come to Moon and taken rein, with a new order to maintain. Of his coup, he does not explain.”
“The vile hag of Sun, tormenting us all so, now deserving of our shun, to gallows she shall go. But though we scorn her, her words steered us from danger. Of hatred is that woman so deserving, but should her banishment be so unnerving?”
“Our ruler's fallen, now in chains, and Grim takes the lead. Life in Moon Camp's growing strange, and changed in word and deed. Poor Irion, poor Maire! They go now to some wayward eon, for they were lost without the Hierophant's grievous stare.”