The Caravelle family were proud but downtrod.
Hunted for food to fend of their hunger.
Watched as a star came falling to sod,
which a hole through the world it did tear asunder.

The family so proud rode out to the fire.
and passed through a gape in the air and the soil.
“Its a deamon from hell?” we at once did enquire.
For the ground was all burnt and the pond water a boil.

But Father lurched forward as if drawn to a drain.
And grasped in his hand the stone as it glowed.
“Its talking to me,” he stated insane,
Then picked up the stone and to us he showed.

“It says we are home, for here is our hearth.”
And then set down the rock, which dented the dirt.
A retainer walked up, and dug at the earth,
but soon coiled back, his hand he had hurt.

“It ways so much more, I’d say fifty ton.’
like a boulder he could not as much as disturb.
Then Father returned and lofted it on.
“its as light as a feather, as the smallest green herb.”

From that moment forward and from those days so old,
Did the Star Stone Scepter only call to its kin.
Only Caravelle can lift it, command it and hold,
No imposter can wield it, only family can win.

Caravelle Family Saga.