Three I extend, firm in stance, a keeper still in sacred trance. Upon me sat the oracles of old, their tongues ablaze with truths untold. Neither beast nor man am I, yet I have stood where gods drew nigh.

Three golden artifacts created by ancient goddesses, each representing a virtue required to rule in the highest. Link us together and make a wish - and it shall come to be.

I hold a trishula, bringing the end, In cosmic sleep, the worlds suspend. A dance I dance, both fierce and bright, creation’s spark and doom’s dark light. In flames I twirl, a god, ascetic, stripped and bare.

I bring wealth and excess, labor and harm. When I strike myself, I make men take up arms. Bane of faes, wolves, or just flesh and bone. What rocks harder than rolling stones?

I am a Rod, a Puzzle, an Eye, and a really long time, three passed to the stone world, and I am the name of a Falcon.