The Abbott's Prophesy

A vision from the past brings three flawed heroes together

From the shadow of the crazed king's reign,
Where hope is an echo from a once appeased domain.
The land, once fertile, now bears the scars of desecration,
A canvas marked by the lashes of his insane decimation.

Ages shattered beneath his every whim,
Spirits crushed, no songs or hymns.
Mother against daughters,
Whole villages sent to slaughter.

Three events destined to come to pass,
Events so obscure, none seen by the hourglass.
Fires in the sky- foretelling changes to gain,
Of a time when Madness shall be slain.

A simple lesser noble's son of a forgotten line,
Blessed with a gift so deadly, yet so benign,
A Wizard's curse, in his veins, a power concealed,
Causes even the mightiest to bend the knee and yield.

The Lost Heir- cursed to a legacy of death,
A father's son now sworn to Preath,
In Her Light, he finds the strength to vanquish,
The burden of fate he'll suffer to languish.

Assassin, born of Demons' blood, it's acclaimed,
Her Soul, a battleground, forever flamed,
Her bow hums a song of vengeance,
Yet within her heart, a final convergence.

Together, they rise, united by fate's strange hand,
Three heroes, bound by a destiny so grand,
With Fate, they stand, the last hope of the land,
To conquer the crazed king's unjust demand.

If any should falter within their deeds,
Evil will undoubtedly succeed.
The Convergence must be uninterrupted,
For the New Order to be Reconstructed.


As copied from the cell walls after Abbott's escape, written in her blood.