(Attributed to Solenwyre, Keeper of the Pale Grove, Year of the Hollow Eclipse)
Beneath the gaze of twin-born moons,
When shadows stretch and truth runs thin,
She shall rise, blood of silver fire,
The chosen spark of goddess kin.
A crown not worn, but deeply sown,
Shall bloom from scars the old world made.
She walks with wolves and stands alone,
Where night forgets, her light will stay.
One marked by frost shall stand apart—
Opposite, yet bound the same.
The hunter lost, the healer torn,
Their union lights the world aflame.
Not born of power, but made by fate,
The Alpha who was never named,
Will gather stars beneath her voice,
And call the world to rise—unchained.