[Latin Script]
Speculum nigrum in penetralibus arcis stat,
Reflectens fata quae nondum scripta sunt.
Elara videt faciem suam in vitro obscuro,
Sed oculi sui sunt vacui et sine luce.
Ibi mundus est cinis et caelum est rubrum,
Ubi regnum suum jacet in ruinis funestis.
Videt se ipsam super thronum ossium sedentem,
Tenentem sceptrum quod mundum consumit.
Umbrae loquuntur in lingua vetita et muta,
Dicentes gloriam esse tantum umbram vanam.
Omnis victoria habet pretium cruentum,
Et omnis corona est vinculum ad inferna.
In speculo, Kaelen est monstrum sine anima,
Cuius cor est fragmentum vitri nigri.
Nila volat super campos ubi nihil crescit,
Alis fractis sub sole moriente et tristi.
Hae sunt visiones quae mentem perturbant,
Veritates amarae quae in somniis latent.
Possuntne fata mutari ab una manu?
An est circulus qui nunquam frangitur?
Elara tangit speculum digito trementi,
Et superficies tremit sicut aqua turbata.
Imago mutatur in flammam phenicis albam,
Sed nigredo manet in angulis vana.
Oportet reginam scire secretum lucis,
Quae tantum lucet in densissima nocte.
Speculum frangitur in mille frusta parva,
Reflectentia mille vias ad exitium.
Sed cor elarae manet firmum sicut mons,
Paratum pugnare contra umbram propriam.
In fragmentis vitri, videt spem parvam,
Sicut stellam in profundo abysso fulgentem.
Fata non sunt scripta in lapide aeterno,
Sed in sanguine et igne voluntatis suae.
[English Translation]
The black mirror stands in the inner chambers of the citadel,
Reflecting fates that are not yet written.
Elara sees her face in the dark glass,
But her eyes are empty and without light.
There the world is ash and the sky is red,
Where her kingdom lies in deadly ruins.
She sees herself sitting upon a throne of bones,
Holding a scepter that consumes the world.
Shadows speak in a forbidden and silent tongue,
Saying glory is only a vain shadow.
Every victory has a bloody price,
And every crown is a link to the underworld.
In the mirror, Kaelen is a monster without a soul,
Whose heart is a fragment of black glass.
Nila flies over fields where nothing grows,
With broken wings under a dying and sad sun.
These are the visions that disturb the mind,
Bitter truths that lurk in dreams.
Can fates be changed by one hand?
Or is it a circle that is never broken?
Elara touches the mirror with a trembling finger,
And the surface trembles like disturbed water.
The image changes into a white phoenix flame,
But blackness remains vainly in the corners.
The queen must know the secret of light,
Which only shines in the thickest night.
The mirror breaks into a thousand small pieces,
Reflecting a thousand paths to destruction.
But Elara's heart remains firm like a mountain,
Ready to fight against her own shadow.
In the fragments of glass, she sees a small hope,
Like a star shining in the deep abyss.
Fates are not written in eternal stone,
But in the blood and fire of her own will.