The Wise Man's Fear - The Relics of Nihlux

Relics that fell from the hands of the mages of old
Fell hands, the relics of an evil that’s no longer known
Have scored the soil - faded, blistered, and sunk beneath

Thorn of land’s side
Men of oak, men of iron
Thorn of land’s side
Men of steel, men of stone

Spires and spindles sleeping under mountain blanket folds
An oaken switch, a candle, a blade
This is where I call my home
Spires and spindles sleeping under mountain blanket folds
An oaken switch, a candle, a blade
This is where I’ll call my home

And now we feel the life
Hiding on the mountainside
As a passing wind
Sings us a fading song

Eyes that are bright and fixed upon
The glory of what lies beyond
Binding hearts against the same
Binding travellers by flame
Listen, the small and the quiet murmurs of the night are here
Made of these things and are gone in just a moment’s time
A crest, A coin, a plume, their blood joined
Conclave has now gone from the light
The bravery of fools pulls them into the night

The night swallows the daylight
They go to seek what they’ve not known
Didn’t you know they would leave and go into the night
To set this all right
Men of Oak, men of iron, men of steel, men of stone go on to fight
You should see their eyes that are bright and fixed upon
The glory of what lies beyond
Binding hearts against the same
Binding travellers by flame

Conclave has now gone from the light
The bravery of fools pulls them into the night