During his journey through the Burial Ground of Gods, the Sovereign Light was wounded again and again. In many battles, his body was torn, his strength was drained, and his spirit almost collapsed. This cursed realm suppressed his ancient power, so he could no longer release the full radiance he once possessed at the crown of the World Tree.
One day, he was surrounded by demons in countless layers. Evil spirits pressed in from every direction, and corrupted dark gods commanded them from the shadows, determined to destroy him before he could awaken the surviving gods.
Although his energy was still powerful and his sword-light swept through the darkness, the enemies came without end. At last, he was overwhelmed. Gravely wounded, he fell unconscious beneath the storm of demons.
At that moment, the divine mark on his chest suddenly shone.
From within the light, a shadow of the Father appeared. Without hesitation, the figure embraced the wounded Sovereign Light and carried him away from the battlefield.
When he finally woke, he found himself lying inside a hidden cave. Before him stood the Father’s avatar, looking at him with tears in its eyes. Then, without a word, the avatar slowly faded into light.
He remained silent for a long moment.
Then, still wounded, he rose again and continued his journey.
He walked where ruined heavens sleep,
Through broken stone and shadows deep. His sword was bright, his heart was true,
Yet wounds returned with every new. Again he fell, again he rose,
Through demon fire and frozen snows. But in that land of buried pain,
His ancient power wore a chain. He could not shine as once he shone,
Above the World Tree’s highest throne. Still he moved through blood and flame,
Calling lost gods back by name. With every scar, with every cry,
He held his vow beneath the sky. Then came a storm with no end,
Layer on layer, fiend on fiend. Black wings covered every star,
Dark hands struck from near and far. He drew his blade against the sea,
But cursed tides would not set free. Hold on, little light, hold on,
Even when your strength is gone. Through the wound, through the night,
Father’s mark will guard your light. Fall down, but do not fade,
Heaven sees the vow you made. When the dark has closed the sky,
A hidden hand will still be nigh. He raised his blade in burning air,
White-gold fire everywhere. Demons broke like smoke and rain,
Yet more arose from death again. Then black spears pierced the light,
He staggered in the endless fight. His blood fell warm upon the land,
He tried once more, but could not stand. The world grew dim, the voices far,
He saw no moon, he saw no star. With one last breath beneath the storm,
He lost his sword and sank from form. Then on his chest, the seal awoke,
Through the blood and demon smoke. A figure stepped from holy flame,
And called him by his hidden name. Hold on, little light, hold on,
Even when your strength is gone. Through the wound, through the night,
Father’s mark will guard your light. Fall down, but do not fade,
Heaven sees the vow you made. When the dark has closed the sky,
A hidden hand will still be nigh.
The shadow-form embraced him fast, And fled the field of death at last.
Through caves of stone and silent streams, It bore him out of broken dreams.
No thunder rolled, no trumpets cried, Only tears the light could hide.
A Father’s sorrow, vast and deep, Watched the wounded child asleep.
Wake now, little light, wake now, Though the scars are on your brow.
You were struck, but not destroyed, You were lost, but not made void.
Rise again, the road remains, Past the graves and demon chains.
Father’s love has crossed the night, To carry home the wounded light.
He woke within a hidden cave, Beside a small and gentle flame.
The Father’s shadow wept with grace, Then vanished from that silent place.
He watched the last light leave the stone, Then rose, and walked the dark alone.
