tell me, the gloomy window, why we are growing weak,
why all spells are p-ssing.
a thousand years of d-mnation p-ssed and something is
coming back – the eternity must survive.
my power cannot be broken, i cannot be dethroned,
there cannot be such strength and there will never be any.
everything is burnt, except for the little hope and an ancient prophecy.
only i know the prophecy though, there are no fairies,
there is nothing any more.
they were drowned by the guardian of the sword. is that true?
i saw it on my own. i cannot be deceived,
there are neither fairies nor anything else.
only black hearts and tears of those who survived remained.
a thousand years p-ssed. you are sitting, having a feast,
you are conceited and keen, but ambloque never forgets anything.
i am leaving but i will come back and it will prove if the prophecy lasts.