You're new, here I assume,
reading this on a wooden tome.
Here I must explain to you,
How Proelefsi came to be our home.
The men of time long past went thereto,
their appearance on this island is time's epoch
We count days by twenty-four hours, years by the origin
So our Ancient Builders are what make YF-Zero.
Surviving turned thriving, campfires made way for homes,
Ancients crafted, invented, made tomes from moans,
and their eyes set on on the islands above and depths below,
the builders sealed their fate with ambition and abandon.
Their language they thought superior, their tongues absolute
Ancients enslaved the piglins and coerced the endermen,
"Do our bidding" to one, and the other "you can't refute."
Their undoing, undoubtably; they created a suffuse problem
Both higher and lower turned away, each to their disasters
The higher unleashed a monster, controlling and rigging.
The lower unleashed revolt, turning against the owners.
And amidst all the turmoil, they had an infection killing.
The land was wiped clean, the slate turned anew,
The Ancient were no more, the humanoids diversify,
The infection that killed morphs, the end hardens,
The mountain-peaked sprout wings, yet some ancient lie.
Ruin had crossed the land twice past,
Once in rebellion and then in infection,
Sweeping death like a sickle for recompense
The builders had soared too close to the stars
Nature choked the land, an eon past
One line in rule put the grass in their grasp
They trimmed the treeline, staved the wildfires,
For the builders to rekindle broken lineage
Peace followed after, not builders anymore.
Simple humans who built havens, Havalias here
The kingdoms flourished, few and far between
And they finally learned to invent again
Knowledge came then, from within and without
nations thrived off the supplied minds of the right-hand
Portico sewed a cord between the Lords,
Unified by a common tech, a common science.
Deception came after, the fervor could not last long
One turned on another, then two more against the other
A great fight was fought, then brought a draught
The lands returned, once more, to the simple and sound
Permanence endured, a thousand moons bygone
No change, no interest, just life and press on
Towns stayed local, Lords kept lording
It was safer in here, they said, than out there
Wrath endured, monsters ravaged,
A man made refuge in a Fortress against savage,
He outreached by railroads, but that was his downfall,
The man's final destination was six feet underground.
"Creation was no more," "life stayed in the 'here'"
but then, very soon, a change would appear.
An ancient of creators, arbiter to manufacture
builds, farms, towns, homes, and a life spent unsure
Home was not much for Alarians like her
A product to be learned from, known from and inferred,
Instead of being, living, acknowledged and conversed
But the efforts are afforded for herself to be unversed
Knowledge of these stories should allow us some time
to climb the high times of our lasting past,
our past is their past, but whats now is present,
the present is ascent, for you to lead high
Sabaluna grew high from the five's war cry,
Havalia grew low, their leader now gone,
Nyumbani grew quiet, their trust long shied,
The South kept empty, potential left alone.
The high times are nigh, there's more, i decry
You are among the first, but not interspersed
I hope more of you soon, will make a difference this moon
See our towns grow tenfold from the castle to the foothills