By the Valg, three were made, Of the Gate-Stone of the Wyrd: Obsidian the gods forbade And stone they greatly feared. In grief, he hid one in the crown Of her he loved so well, To keep with her where she lay down Inside the starry cell. The second one was hidden In a mountain made of fire, Where all men were forbidden Despite their great desires. Where the third lies Will never be told By voice or tongue Or sum of gold.
