No one knew from where. They just were. Written with parchment still smoking on the edges, the passage written in gold ink, the messages appeared.
Stealing what is precious, the invisible thief,
A Riddler crafting dance steps for her amusement,
Shifting that which is ordinary
To Shear away tender fleece from well-beaten Gold.
Armed with Little Knowledge,
A not so meek Shopkeeper Meddles.
A Hollow whose heart is Hidden
Wanders in a sea of Ill wind.
A turn against Time,
the marked Captains struggle.
All your Confusion,
Anger and Anxiety,
Moments of Fear,
Small appetizers.
We are here, at the beginning,
At the end of your last Warning,
To Return what does not belong in the hands of the dying.
Soaked in the light of the moon and sun, they then faded black ask, back from whence they had come.
