Epilogue

T he Prophecy of Flame and Shadow

In the annals of the ancient elves, kept hidden for millennia in the deepest recesses of their sacred libraries, there exists a prophecy. Written in shimmering ink that seems to dance on the page, it speaks of a time when darkness will engulf the land, and hope will come in the form of fire.

The prophecy reads thus:

When shadows lengthen and night holds sway, when water drowns and light gives way, a queen of darkness shall arise, her power blackened, her heart of ice.

With stolen magic, she'll remake the world, into a realm of shadows unfurled. The old order toppled, the balance undone, a new age of darkness will have begun.

But hope remains, a spark in the gloom, a child of flame to seal the doom, of she who sits upon shadow's throne, fire shall come to claim its own.

Born of embers, raised in strife, this chosen one shall bring new life. With wings of flame and heart of gold, the fire fae's tale shall be told.

Through trials of pain and loss they'll grow, their power building, their spirit aglow. When all seems lost, when hope burns low, the fire fae's true strength shall show.

In combat fierce, they shall collide, shadow and flame, darkness and light. The fate of all shall hang in the balance, as fire meets shadow in a deadly dance.

And so, the fae realm waits and watches, poised on the brink of a conflict that will shape the future of their world. The time of the prophecy is at hand. The reign of shadow has begun.

But fire is rising to meet it.