And as I ponder that old reaper grim
And those who rode ahead numbering 3
He is the terror coming at the end
And after him springtime as all the free.
The circle of the seasons go around
As it has gone since the vanguard of time.
World without beginning without ending
Exactly as a circle perfect shape
The white the red the black who With him march
And yet ahead tell spring summer and fall
And not yet fail, as they the earth do search
And right on time and heeding ere the call
The horsemen 4 , there in natural reason
White red and black then pale winter season
Tasked by his Goddess to find, relocate, and then quicken, the last three Heart Tree gem-seeds, Vanx the bard, and his motley crew of adventurers, set out to do just that.
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