A song written by a bard from the Order of A.
Original text
There lies a land the maps forgot,
Where seasons fail and borders rot.
The desert burns, the cold winds bite,
Yet lilacs bloom in tempered light.
Three skies above, a fractured dome,
Each half a curse, each third a home.
The calm, the storm, the blazing eye,
All wed beneath the hollow sky.
They came in chains, in cloaks, in prayer,
To drink the light and breathe the air.
But none could bear the weather's song —
The peace too brief, the days too long.
Yet one remained with ash-white hairs,
Whose name begins, but never stands.
Something whispered, never loud,
A name the thunder won’t allow.
Chorus
One who danced where mortals break,
Took no coin, but gave no take.
Wrote their name in burning sand,
Raised a finger, touched the brand.
The sun bowed once and did not rise,
For light had passed behind their eyes.
And so they burned and bloomed and froze,
In the land no wind ever knows.
The Hollow Sky is not a place,
But pressure sealed in endless space.
Find the tree that grows with flame,
Carve beneath it half a name.
There the wind is never still,
And silence comes to test your will.
But speak it once — the name with "A",
And worlds may crack and drift away.