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The last rose of Cintra
Has blood upon her thorns.

A forgotten tale of Elder Blood,
And all futures past reborn.

Swirling spheres of otherness
Of hope and doom forlorn.
Her path could lead to happiness
Or the end of times for all.

Ghosts of futures falling
Have saddled up to ride,
Seeking the Lion Cub of Cintra
Last living of her pride.

And every hand will reach for
The power that lies untold,
The time of ax and sword is nigh
Blood-red seeds of war are sown.

So seek ye now the White Wolf
He'll stay their wicked hand
A steel and silver burning heart
To guide through darkened lands.

Your future lies unspoken
In timeless emerald eyes
A world may burn as pages turn
Or a savior may arise!

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