And so it goes; and so it went again...
Am I the Emperor - or no, am I
a general of legions yet to march?
My father's name still burns upon their tongues,
yet no man speaks it now without their doubts.
The crown sits light until their blood is drawn;
from ages old to ages come anew,
at last - too late - this I have come to learn:
the banners of a royal line are that
which soldiers take to marching through the pass.

Which soldiers take to marching through the pass?
You wear the livery of ash and tan -
ye devils come to steal the line of kings!
I shall not let you fiends deploy your men;
for I am sworn, though none have sworn to me,
and hold this gate though all the world recants.
Name me usurper, bastard, broken son -
still shall I go where rightful blood must march,
for noble lines uphold the grace of men!

Four noble lines uphold the grace of men
and women vying for the place of crowns:
the Duchess Fell, inheritor of dark;
the puppet-prince of sick and twisted mind
whose blood met blood to bear the ruiner;
the just and mournful queen of what would be;
the three-scored warrior of prosody.
Four lines and legions all come head to head -
and death comes dancing in upon a fang.

And death comes dancing in upon a fang,
a child born of dark and twisted dreams;
and death goes ringing out with loud acclaim,
a lover burned, his blade sundered in two;
and death comes back to hear the mourners sing
of legions lost in passes far and wide.
And when death walks, he walks in blood and lives -
he walks through depths to end the line of kings.

He walks through depths to end the line of kings,
the death that comes for all who walk the earth.
The one who would be queen must come to face
the one who would escape the binds of fate.
And with her lover's sword, the queen beheads
the fool who thought to battle 'gainst the Will.
For Seleucar, the cost was long foretold:
blood and lives - the words which empires gone
and empires yet to be will come to know.

And empires yet to be will come to know
which soldiers took to marching through the pass,
for noble lines upheld the grade of men.
And when death wields his fangs of shadowed time,
he walks through depths to end the line of kings.
And so it went; and so it goes again,
and empires yet to be will come to know it all.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Lupar, in the year 1000 AF.