'You great star, what would your happiness be had you not those for whom you shine?'
Deep inside a library somewhere, there is an old, small book - like a pocket grimoire. The pages are yellowed and the ink has turned brown from the age. With a bit of imagination, the stains where the writer's quill has splotched ink on the page could almost be mistaken for blood. Strangely, for what seems to be a tale, there are no dates marked anywhere. This was probably not the first Tale of their authors... but it was the last one.
A long - never-ending tale, made by Many kings of all Cosmos in the past, yet hard to read - but easy to Understand, as the cover shows a name like no one, called