In the realms around Skaia, the bright blue star,
Surrounded by eldritch gods,
Two Kingdoms were locked in eternal stalemate,
Obliged to be at odds.
Prospit's gold orbiting close to the star,
Its rulers carapaced white.
The planet of Derse behind a dark veil,
Unto their black shells no light.
Each with a moon that's chained to its surface,
And covered in sprawling cities.
Each with two towers housing two siblings,
In perennial sleep they'd been dreaming.
At the centre of Skaia the Battlefield lay,
Both armies were led by their King.
The planets were ruled by the Black and White Queen,
Each of them guarding her ring.
Nothing had changed for eternities now,
But soon the dreamers would wake.
And upon their arrival all of the medium,
Derse and Prospit would quake.