The Prophecy of Æthelred’s Doom

In days of yore, when shadows loomed, and darkened skies did foretell doom. A seer of old, with sight so keen. Spake thus the fate of lands unseen:

“Upon the eve of winter’s breath, when fields lie fallow, touched by death. A child of stars, with eyes of flame, Shall rise and speak the ancient name.

From blood of kings and dragons’ line, in mist and moonlight shall he shine. With a heart of iron, hand of steel. To break the world and make it kneel.

In northern wastes, ‘neath aurora’s glow. The fires of eld shall fiercely blow, and mountains weep with rivers red. A serpent wakes from slumber’s bed.

The heavens’ tear shall rend the veil, and oceans swell with bitter wail. A shadow falls on throne and crown. As the empire’s might is brought to frown.

From east to west, the horns shall blare, as armies clash in desperate snare. Yet all shall bow to whispered breath, for death shall court with lover’s death.

In darkest hour, ‘fore light is born. The earth shall quake, the sky be torn, yet in the chaos, hope shall bloom. From ashes rise the world’s new groom.

One shall stand with soul of light, to vanquish dark, restore the right. Yet sacrifice, the price shall be. For freedom’s call, from chains set free.

Beware the serpent’s silver tongue, its lullabies for weak and young. For in its coils of dark deceit, lie truths untold and lies replete.

The dawn shall break with blood-stained sun. A new age born, the old undone, so heed this tale, and mark it well. For Æthelred’s doom, the stars foretell.”

Thus spake the seer, with voice like ice. Foretelling days of sacrifice, a future wrought with blood and flame. Where none shall ever be the same.