Danielle Kozinski

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.