No mourners, a voice in a whispered hush

No funerals, the dark reply

The lines, a prayer to those in peril

A mantra, uttered worldwide

Once for the boy with hands of filth

Atop a cane, a crow's head

His truth, hidden in tricks and lies

His story, one of revenge

Twice for the spy, the girl who scaled walls

A wraith, who suppressed the damned

Her home, a family she knows not where

Whom she longs to see again

Third for a soldier, hardened and strong

Who thinks his way is right

Who believed magic was unnatural, a crime

Yet he longed for the one in his sight

Fourth for the boy, an outcast, unwanted

Of upper class, but now disowned

Left by his family, behind all the words

Fending for himself in a world unknown

Fifth for the Heartrender, a girl made of red

Who saved her enemy from a terrible blow

Her skills with her power, add to her strength

A Grisha, among the crows

Sixth for the sharpshooter, who cannot walk away

From his games, now he must pay the price

A score to settle, the cards now tell

The debt to which he owes his life

No mourners, spoken, as their journey begins

Towards wealth, their dreams, and their hearts

No funerals, they whispered to themselves, each other

A hope, before their world falls apart