I am Ofentse of the noble house Hajane,
First of his name.
The ancient crocodile of the deep,
whose gaze pierces the shrouded abyss.
Seeker of knowledge beyond the verse,
where even gods dare not tread.
The adjudicator of truth,
whose words are more binding than oaths.
The drake residing in a cavern of still waters,
The erudite of the first man,
keeper of forgotten lore,
The custodian of formless chaos.
The night bleeder of the brown ones,
Tamer of whispering shadows.
The protector of the known,
guardian of ancient texts.
And mender of ancient edifices,
whose stone remembers the hand that laid it,
and the blood that sanctified it.
In the deep halls of the Black Citadel,
where the light of day is but a fading memory, I dwell.
My wisdom stretching across the eons,
my dominion rooted in the silent groves of lost knowledge.
Beneath the stars, cold and unyielding,
I trace the lines of prophecy and undo the chains of fate
with a single stroke of my hand.
The night is my kingdom, the dark cloak that shields me.
For in the silence between breaths,
I unravel the mysteries of gods and men alike.
I am Ofentse, and the stars themselves shall bow before my name,
as the ancient ones did when the formless was still young.
Flashing red,
Flashing blood.
Despair throttled down my spinal cortex.
Reason lost in shock,
...
Paned over twenty-three times by Olympus' hand,
The Pegasi of Eatos fell—
Winged steeds once borne by Eos, now broken.
My obsession: insanity.
...
Looking sharply at the setting sun.
The reddish-yellow colour brimming with diversity.
The rock I turned into my throne,
Urgently eroding away into mystery.
...
Ye may ponder my discovery fallacy,
But fantasy I shalt follow not.
Evil may be what thou appoint me,
But if two gods clash in lies and deception,
...