kcfgogbfalgfl
-- Until the path is complete, counting steps is meaningless
The horizon's vision is always deceptive
Perhaps tomorrow the wheel of fortune will turn again
And our horses will trample the North into dust
And we will crown our spears with the heads of Sithia's wicked children
And the day after, it all begins anew
Perhaps the weak will become strong, the strong -- weak
None among mortals can escape the chains
Of blind fate. The future is hazy, the past is hidden
What could have been shall never be.
Shame for one's feelings befits only the base-born
Far more terrible is the emptiness within the soul
If life is short and holds no constancy
Only the wild impulses of the spirit shall affirm
Our existence. What need have we of the sweetness of wine
And the gleam of beautiful eyes, and the light of the sun
And the spires of stone-hard palaces, when there remains
No living soul, whether it be in sorrow
Or in joy. While living thought
Has not abandoned the world, we may affirm
That our lives were not in vain, though now
The burden of existence may seem meaningless,
Whose reflection, alas, I observe in the depths of beautiful eyes
Perhaps we shall yet have to drain the cup of woes
But to be or not to be is not the question
In faithful service to You, while the heart still beats,
I gladly greet the new dawn
- What magnificent words! - Alas, the compliment did not belong to Deus, who, though clearly pleased by what was said, lacked the speed to react in time - the guest who appeared within the field of view of the knights of Hegemony and Gloomy Sky took the floor first. - Your Grandeur is most fortunate to have such a talented servant in your ranks!
With her arrival, the music playing in the spacious hall shifted to a new melody, as if welcoming her entrance. But, of course, it was merely a simple coincidence - for she was but one of the insignificant persons who had arrived in Paradelus in the company of Lord Osha. What significance could she hold?
- To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking? - Mariarnelia asks.
- Revaniel, Your Grandeur. Merely a humble priestess of the Raven of Dawn, come here straight from Duskwing, home to all our few followers.
- Ah... - Evidently, this worldview occupied no significant part of the royal person's consciousness.
- If Your Grandeur's heart holds the generosity to accept my humble gift, it would delight me to the very depths of my soul!
Revaniel kneels and presents to Deus a pitch-black box adorned with golden patterns.