In the heart of the ancient wood, a kingdom stood tall,
Lysanthir gleamed beneath the moon, a jewel before the fall.
A king once ruled, wise and kind, with a crown of golden flame,
But greed crept in, a shadow spread, and tore apart his name.
The wind it howled, the earth it groaned, as darkness crossed the land,
A stranger came with hollow eyes, and offered his blackened hand.
"Immortality, power untold, I give to you this night,
But heed my words, for every gift must cast a shadow’s blight."
Lysanthir, your towers crumble,
Cursed by pride, forever humble.
The light you sought was darkness spun,
The ruin now has just begun.
Lysanthir, the king you chose,
Now haunts your land, a ghost who grows.
Eternal life, but at what cost?
In Lysanthir, the soul is lost.
The pact was sealed in whispers cold, the ink a drop of blood,
The sky grew dim, the trees bent low, the rivers turned to mud.
Seasons twisted, the fields ran dry, and famine took its place,
While King Aelric's eyes grew wild, time etched upon his face.
The people cried for their lost king, but he could not hear their call,
For in his throne of hollow bone, his mind began to fall.
He clung to life, but life had fled, his veins like ice and stone,
And Lysanthir beneath his reign became a kingdom overthrown.
Lysanthir, your towers crumble,
Cursed by pride, forever humble.
The light you sought was darkness spun,
The ruin now has just begun.
Lysanthir, the king you chose,
Now haunts your land, a ghost who grows.
Eternal life, but at what cost?
In Lysanthir, the soul is lost.
In shadows deep, the forest weeps,
The kingdom lost in endless sleep.
The king who thought he'd never die
Now roams beneath a starless sky.
The ruin calls to those who dare
To wander in its lifeless snare,
But all who seek its ghostly flame
Will only find a cursed name.
Lysanthir, your towers crumble,
Cursed by pride, forever humble.
The light you sought was darkness spun,
The ruin now has just begun.
Lysanthir, the king you chose,
Now haunts your land, a ghost who grows.
Eternal life, but at what cost?
In Lysanthir, the soul is lost.
The wind still whispers through the trees,
Of a kingdom brought to its knees.
The king who lives but cannot die,
Forever trapped beneath the sky.
Lysanthir, your time has passed,
Your golden days could never last.
The curse you sought, the pact you made,
In shadowed ruin, you will fade.