And Barrus lonesome roved about, despising Polysomnus in the infancy of her betrayal. Master of the hunt, he tracked the footfalls of his sorrow, finding even emptiness elusive and his hounds slow to obey. In dark windows he peered, through the hearts of the specters and in the reflections of their eyes crying for his mate when his temper cooled. Blind he crept, languishing in remorse and searching for a home he found the wall.

Words he spoke to his birds who flew the high winds to Nessus and Zar Zafaran where they pleaded on their sire’s behalf. Beast begat beast, cried Topar in her ire, and a son of Barrus turned that day on a spit while Haleon seduced his daughter to his service. Lonesome Barrus stalked, soothing pain with his wild hunt he tracked the specters when they wandered alone and slew them as he willed.

Topar wailed in the solitary dark, her bower chill and desolate. What are you to me save an agitating thought? Wander in the wastes for all eternity while the Worm gnaws you from within. May IT gnaw you slowest of us all and may you saver each motion of ITs maw. From her tower window still she looks across the wastes to see the brute alone with nothing but a pittance from his faithless love to accompany his ruin.

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Thus Ulro dreams in demi-sleep groaning, festering dark pustulant sour, grave of the finest hopes where the starry choirs lose their voice. Harmony splintered, throats cut razor lines burst are organs at the mere hint of joy, burst in ribbons floating lost on an ocean of their own drained blood. A pale white corpse hung dry to sway in the necrotic wind.

Then life cried anon, kindled on the eave of death eternal by wandering flame along the byways of Bastion's bristol fonts. Bastion you fell, and Bastion you rose. The Empire of Echoes shed primordial rock you mountain glorious! You den of watchful eyes and remembrance of Ascension's glow. Sorrowful we eulogize your long waged noble war and Arriana's withering fade.

And Briah sang as the Wheel began to turn ‘round all. The Wheel of Destiny, the Wheel of Hope, spun by the hands of stars for the Day of Reunification. Emptied from Beulah rushed the hopeful wind into desolate space and there, hidden from memory, the pieces of the Wheel were gathered in acausal preparation, for the heart began before the bones and beats its struggle across the spheres.