Young Vanyel once awakened from, a dream of death and fear.
If he should choose to be a mage, his doom would then draw near,
Of future filled with suffering was all that he could see
And so he made a choice to leave k'Treva there then flee.
Into the winter's bitter cold he hurried on that day,
His mind was numbed and chilled and he could scarcely find his way.
When pondering his haste made choice he thought then to return,
But a magic cry for mercy made his frozen spirit burn.

Silver and amethyst the Colddrake hunts for prey,
It's glowing eyes can hypnotize and steal your soul away.

He caught the cry of magic then and followed it where is led,
And all the while a helpless anguish echoed in his head.

He came upon a holding in a sheltered forest vale,
Destroyed in ruthless fury by a monster cold and pale.
A woman and her children huddled near the Colddrake's paw.
Her husband lay in shreds beneath an unforgiving claw.
The beast entranced her victims neither looking left nor right,
She knew for well the peasants had no way to run or fight.

Silver and amethyst the Colddrake hunts for prey,
It's glowing eyes can hypnotize and steal your soul away.

Then suddenly a man stepped fourth, a pitch fork in his hand,
As if alone he'd face the beast, and bravely take a stand.
Though old and frail he could not bear to watch his kinfolk die,
He was the only chance they had, and he was bound to try.
The man thrust his weapon deep into the Coldrake