The little hero slipped out of doors by night, and with his friend rushed headlong into the wolves' forest. With his slingshot he chased boars, and with sturdy branches he would battle imaginary monsters. Following the shining Seelie deep into the woods, he discovered a treasure that had laid buried for a thousand years. That treasure was a small yellow flower. When the tired hero returned to his childhood bedroom, and flipped through the proof of his first adventures, He discovered to his surprise that the long-hidden flower had yet to wilt. Yet in this it was alone, for everything else had changed with the passing of years.

To comfort his crybaby of a companion, the young hero gave his friend a bird's feather. This was proof of their shared adventure, of the treasure they found together, and was meant to embolden his comrade. Much later, one of them was named a "lion," And became a crownless king at the head of many knights. The other became a "wolf," Supporting his friend from the shadows, and running affairs of state. In those turbulent times, the two defended their home and each other like sword and dagger. But this was a story from long ago. So many were lost during the cataclysm.

When the black curses poured forth, and the roots of disaster infested the earth, The knights, on expedition in a foreign land, would face the horror head on, their formation steely as the northern glaciers. The steel of their greatswords flashed brightly, and the dark ichor fell like poisoned rain. At last the hero returned home, but this time, without his old friend. So much had changed, save for the hourglass that childhood companion had gifted him.

The young hero's first battle ended, and for the first time he tasted the sweet wine of victory. That day, deep of the vine he drank together with his closest friend — supportive, joyful, and blissfully ignorant. Many years later, when the cataclysm came, he led the knights to fight for his homeland. On the eve of battle, he advised his childhood friend and long-time deputy to come drink with him. "If you do not return, I will not mourn you." "Nay, I will toast you, and drink in your honor, just as we do today."

The little hero entered the deep, mysterious forest, and henceforth walked the path of resistance. His best playmate played the role of the champion knight of the aristocracy. "Like a lion I stride the battlefield, like she did a thousand years before." "Songs I will inspire with my sword, to give to generations to come." Their toy greatswords and tree branches clashed in their fierce duel— Till at last the hero won the day, and seized the aristocrats' crowns from their heads. Many years later, this wreath of flowers, though crudely made, Would seem more precious still than the power a master of knights held...