Tell me, the gloomy window, why we are growing weak,   Why all spells are passing.  A thousand years of damnation passed and something is  Coming back - the eternity must survive.    My power cannot be broken, I cannot be dethroned,   There cannot be such strength and there will never be any.  Everything is burnt, except for the little hope and an ancient prophecy.    Only I know the prophecy though, there are no fairies,   There is nothing any more.  They were drowned by the guardian of the sword. Is that true?   I saw it on my own. I cannot be deceived,   There are neither fairies nor anything else.    Only black hearts and tears of those who survived remained.    A thousand years passed. You are sitting, having a feast,   You are conceited and keen, but Ambloque never forgets anything.  I am leaving but I will come back and it will prove if the prophecy lasts.