Art I the son born in the dark before the dawn; thine knight and champion to the broken, both yet neither witch nor healer nor light nor dark. Art I that which is betwixt the deepest darkness just before the dawn light born in it. A shadow's shadow, I do not exist. A figment. A wraith. A phantom.
Art I the grey become red; from phantom mists and light the eternal serpent-soul breathes as lightning, the world is dyed in twilight red and the ysbryd becomes the draig, the shadowed light of Heaven.