History is written by the victors, or so they say, but there is always another side to every story...

Oh! In the past, the forgotten past, in the days before the Apokalypt;

In the time of the Rending, in the End of Ages, when the Elder Moon stood alone in the sky;

Something was coming, an evil was rising,

And the People Saw, and despaired.

And the Lost ones Saw, and they Knew,

And though they felt fear, they planned to rise up

And fight for their world.


The People, the People, they turned to their own,

For between them their power was strong.

Old magicks, lost now to time, ran in their blood.

And some said to run, and some said to fight,

For they shared their world with the Lost Ones.


The Council, the Council, came forth to decide,

For all was to be lost or gained.

And long into the night they debated,

To determine the fate of the People.

And they turned, and they turned, to one of their own,

Who boasted he knew what to do.

And under his spell the Council did fall,

And through them, many moreā€”save one.


The Rebel, the Rebel, of far-seeing eyes,

Whose Sight far surpassed the Council's own;

Saw in his truth the Enemy,

And how he might be defeated.


But too late, too late! Loomed open the Gate!

And the People and Lost Ones cried out in fear.

Lost Works came undone,

Clan Magicks unspun,

And the world was lost to the Darkness.


The Leader, the Leader, who had taken control,

He blamed his failings on the Rebel.

Thus it was that the Rebel chose Exile,

For he knew that the Leader knew nothing.


Far away, far away, did his wanderings take him,

Into the lands of the Lost Ones,

Who once stood so strong, but now cowered before him,

For they thought he was the Evil incarnate.


Two Races, two Races,

Who walked now in Darkness,

Without hope of seeing the Light,

But the Rebel, he knew,

That they could return,

This Darkened world could be put right.


A Search! A Search! The Rebel did wander,

Until he came to one of similar mind.

A Lost One who had dreamed, and through visions had Seen;

An Exile just as he had become.


Oh, the fight! The fight! To make everything right!

For the fates of two Kinds lay in the balance,

A Weapon was forged, to be the great Evil's scourge,

Of both the People and Lost Ones created.


But the Leader, the Leader! He did not believe,

That the Weapon could really prevail.

For the cost of its use was a high one indeed,

A Change to shake the world to its core.


The Evil, the Evil, struck out again,

And knowing there was no longer time,

Champion of the People, Champion of the Lost Ones,

Chose to make their final stand.


Then came the Light, the Burning, Burning Light,

As it scoured clean the world.

The Evil, the Evil, was forced to let go,

And was Banished back whence he came.


The Cost, the Cost! For there was a Cost!

The world reshaped anew.

Empire of the Lost Ones,

Empire of the People,

Old Gifts scattered as dust in the wind,

As twilight fell over the Kinds;

A new Song was written,

A new Moon rose in the sky.


The Twilight, the Twilight, the world born anew,

And unkind to those living upon it;

The Old Ways were gone, but too soon to adapt.

So many were lost in those Seasons.

And those who searched for the blame did not See where it lay,

And instead, as told, placed it on another:


The Rebel, the Champion, whose pelt had turned black,

As he had shielded his Lost Ally from the Light,

And though Seasons had passed,

Since the searing Apokalypt,

Walked among the People unchanged.


The Rebel, the Champion, forced again into Exile,

Known now as the Fallen, the Bane,

Who still wanders the Wastes, or so it is said,

A Demon now summoned by name.


But is he, oh is he? The Spirits do cry,

For he tried to warn the People.

And when they were blind he Saw,

And he fought for his world and won.


Oh! In the wind, in the wind, the bitter cold wind,

They say his voice still echoes.

Risen in Song, it still carries on,

And the wind now carries his warning:


Oh, 'ware, ware! O my People beware!

Of the One who holds power over many!

For one who seeks their fortune

At the expense of our Trust,

Shall lead the People into Darkness!


Oh, 'ware, 'ware! O my People beware!

Beware of the Darkness within!

For it renders us Blind where we should See!

And we See where we should be Blind!


Oh, 'ware, 'ware, O my people beware!

For the Evil will soon rise again!

We must fight together,

But we are divided!

Two Kinds must unite once again!