Long have I slept, I of the Black Wings,

Dreaming of a world most insane.

My footsteps again crunch over familiar soil.

My wings touch azure sky, and I peddle to the deeps of the ocean.

Returned to my ancestral home, have I, the old home of my father.

My black wings stretch as I fly through the familiar sky above the
Ithmia.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Daedalan, in the year 462 AF.