From shattered skies and broken seas,
Where mankind knelt on trembling knees,
I call across the strands of fate,
Before the hour grows too late.
I am the Mage from days to be,
A whisper riding destiny,
A voice that slipped the tyrants’ snare,
To find you breathing mortal air.
Your world still spins in fragile bloom,
Yet dances closer to its doom.
I come not clad in sword or crown,
But bearing light to cast it down.
You lost the songs your fathers knew,
You bartered gold for what was true.
You built great towers, tall and proud—
Yet in your hearts, the darkness howled.
I’ve seen the end your hands will weave,
The sorrow born of hearts that grieve,
The cities burned, the oceans dry,
The empty prayers that fill the sky.
But hear me now—there is a way,
To bend the blade, to break the clay,
To lift your eyes beyond the grey,
And steal the night from death’s own sway.
Unlock the light within your soul,
The hidden song, the ancient role;
Reach out your hand, and take the thread—
We are not finished. We are not dead.
You are the fire the stars await.
You are the forge to change your fate.
Each act of love, each dream, each stand,
Shapes mountains from a single hand.
The age of kings has turned to sand.
The age of gods slips through your hand.
Yet in your chest, a power sleeps—
The seed of all that still can be.
Awake, O dreamers! Rise, O bold!
The world is ours to break or hold.
A single heart, a single spark,
Can split the endless, crushing dark.
I reach across the years unseen,
To plant in you this living dream.
For from your hearts the dawn must rise,
Or all is lost beneath these skies.
I am Elder Mage — the last to see
The ruin you were born to flee.
But if you rise, if you ignite—
You are the last, best hope of light.
So choose your path. So choose it well.
The future’s not some iron bell.
It lives and dies within your hand—
It rises when you choose to stand.
Thus do I speak, from ash and flame,
A final hope in humanity’s name.
Awake. Arise. Refuse to fall.
The future listens for your call.
