There was a time when time itself seemed to aile. Middle Earth was no longer a concoction of beauty. It was a matter of time before the flood. The heavens above roared, the most fierce since the Great War. It showered bolts of gold ,flames wherever it struck. The hells below trembled ,all nine rings converging to form the deepest, darkest, pit there could ever be. It was the end before the end.

Amidst the chaos, under the amber sky, lived a man,a warrior, in a castle alone. It was built of himself, every stone carved by his mind ,engraved with an H. Hurt,hatred helplessness, hope, honour. None knew his name, none had ever seen him, few were even convinced he existed, but, he was there looking up as the clouds gathered to strike back, for all the tears they had shed. Only they knew he was Heart.

She was a wanderer by birth, a princess in her land. Keeping herself hidden, away from the eyes of the world. She was thought of as a recluse, but they never knew what she observed. She saw what no one believed , a prophetess, her path always marked an S. The world curious to know, was she strength, sorrow, sanity or sense, few knew her as what she was ,she was Soul.

As the land broke, silence spread, more terrifying than the sound of chaos. Heart leapt for the warrior in him would die fighting and Soul flew for she knew the end. They met at the centre of turmoil ,uncertainty their only friend.