A screaming comes across the sky. The light fades as a shifting, multicolored mass of black overtakes all that they knew. Darkness pours from above and seeps into every corner, reaching and grabbing for anything it can devour.

The lonely journal keeper paces by a window, watching everything unfold from above. She watches three red cloaked birds take flight, diving headfirst into the relentless darkness. The bard’s song plays as she sees them fight for everything that they know, a never-ending battle finally approaching a finale. She knows that this is it, this is the tipping point, the end of the stolen century. This is the day of story and song, and they’re going to be amazing.