Amaranth's Last Echo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjRJMWwNlxY

Awaken, oh Dragonborn, last of thine kin,
Bearer of dragon’s blood and soul forged in the heart of gods,
Crafted from the marrow of Lorkhan,
Thy voice, the breath of Kyne,
Thy destiny, heavy as the bones of the earth.
For thou art the last, and in this lies thine dread.

In the shadows of time’s forgotten halls,
Where echoes of heroes whisper on the wind,
Six Walking Ways await thee—
Paths carved by those before,
Where Mantling shifts self into the other,
And Chim reveals the world’s illusion,
Yet leaves its bearers weary and broken,
Bound to the wheel they cannot escape.

Aedra, who bled their divinity to shape Mundus,
Gaze upon thee, shackled to the world they gave life.
They, too, are prisoners,
Bound by Lorkhan’s gift,
Their power spent, their essence tied,
Watching as thou walk the path they cannot tread.
Their silent vigil offers no release,
For the road they carved leads only to the void,
A void that even they cannot fill.

And the Daedra, princes of Oblivion,
Unbound by the laws of time,
Whisper promises of freedom,
But their paths twist into snares,
For they seek not to free,
But to bind thee in their endless games,
Where souls are pawns and the end is never found.

Yet thou art the last, oh Dragonborn,
Final echo in a world fading to silence.
Every shout, every step,
Brings thee closer to the edge,
To the precipice where the world frays,
Where all that was and is threatens to unravel.
For what is dragon’s blood but a burden,
A mark of duty that chains thee to a fate not thine own?

In this lies thine fear,
That each victory draws thee nearer to the void,
That each battle won is but another step toward the end.
For thou art Shezarrine,
Bound to the cycle, reborn to fight, to die, to rise,
Yet each time more weary,
More aware of the cage thou art in,
The wheel that spins without end.

But in the shadow of the wheel,
There lies a final way,
A sixth path, hidden from most,
The Amaranth, where the dream becomes the dreamer.
To walk this way is to break the cycle,
To step beyond the limits of gods and mortals,
And become the dreamer who shapes the world anew.

At the edge of time,
Where the void beckons and the world begins to fade,
Thou standst alone,
Yet not alone,
For within thy soul lies the key,
The path to the final way,
To Amaranth, where thou art no longer the dream,
But the dreamer who sings the world into being.

And yet, as the dreamer,
Thou must face the truth that gnaws at the heart—
When the dream no longer needs its dreamer,
What then becomes of thee?
For to create is to give,
And in giving, to fade,
To step back into the void,
Leaving behind only the song.

In breaking the cycle,
Thou art both the end and the beginning,
The final breath of the old world,
And the first breath of the new.
Thine dread fades into light,
As the dream takes form,
And thou, the last,
Find peace in the knowledge,
That when the dream no longer needs its dreamer,
Thou shalt rest,
Not in oblivion,
But in the memory of the world thou shaped.

For such is the fate of the Last Dragonborn,
To be the final echo,
And the first note of a new song.
To dream, and in dreaming,
To set the world free.