Tell me, the gloomy window, why we are growing weak,
why all spells are passing.
A thousand years of damnation passed 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 passed. 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.
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