Where verdant walls of rock ascend,

And sun-drenched, mossy slopes don't end,

A narrow chasm cleaves the stone,

A river whispers, quite alone.

Upon the lip of shadowed earth,

A traveler of quiet birth,

Stands cloaked in bronze and woven reed,

A solitary soul, indeed.

His eyes are fixed on what awaits,

Beyond the rope and weathered planks,

That span the void with weary grace,

A trembling link in time and space.

For on the cliff, where eagles wheel,

A hidden kingdom starts to steal

The azure sky; a Sky-Hold bright,

With towers catching morning light.

A waterfall cascades so far,

It feeds the stream a silver scar,

And flocks of birds in dark array,

Attend the rising of the day.

The wind a breath, the plank a sigh,

He steps onto the bridge on high.

Each creaking sound, a whispered plea,

A pact with fate and destiny.

To cross the gap, the final test,

To leave the shadowed world of rest,

And reach the halls of Cloud-Spire Keep,

Where ancient secrets softly sleep.