What arboreal augury be this?
Has the Realm Verdant at last seen the countenance
Of the scourge born of prophecy?
What is thy scheme, Zyl-Zyn-Horhuz?
Yes, I am the scythe in the field at summer,
I am the thunder that awakens the earth,
I am that which gives the night air its chill.
So dour a mien, let all night's fulgors flame.
Behold, the ghost of a king as yet unborn!
He is the scourge, the thanatos, the cleansing fire, the purifying storm...
He is the cataclysm given corporeal form!
Be wary that your progeny does not consume thee,
Zyl-Zyn-Horhuz... the Voice of the Night!