The exiled son of light,
Rides the ruler of the skies,
Shattering lighting and might,
Thus comes the ruler of the skies;
awakened the exiled king roars,
Preparing for battle
the unkindled champion of ash:
Carved on his chest the darkest ring,
Aroused from death and dashed.
Storm roars and the sky clatters
amidst his enormous wings,
The sound of life shatters.
Londor wavers in fear,
Dragons fall in tear,
"Come forth, thou must be the volunteer."
The Nameless king calls, spins his sword-spear.
Storm roars again,
Hear the sky cry again.
Hear the sky cry again.
Ashes blow for their thirst of embers,
The king shatters the ground
And rules the misty sky
The King of the Storm dives low
Fire burns the shades of grey under her feet.
Ash runs in rolls and in bleed,
Draws all their swords and shields.
Unburned ashes run with greed,
From ash rouse a high light,
One which ran for the storm.
A lightning shines bright,
The scales of strom fall.
The king is left alone,
Now is the time for death and reborn.
Thus dies the king of the storm.
The King roars again,
Hear the sky cry again
Hear the sky cry again.
Sunlight fills the ash's eyes,
As the king grows greater.
His exiled majesty runs and swings,
The ashes roll and fear the blood
Of lord Gwyn's
With his comrade fallen,
The Nameless King grabs the champion.
Thrown far away,
Ash is burned by the lightning,
Ash dies and fades away...
The cycle goes on and on,
Storm dies and Ash,
Wakes from the burned embers on bone...