Lyrics

(Verse 1)
Elara, they called her once, sun-kissed child of the Azure Throne. Silks whispered around her, lessons of diplomacy and lute strings filled her days. Her laughter echoed in the castle gardens, a melody now silenced by the iron clang of steel.
(Verse 2)
Her father, the King, fell swiftly. Treachery bloomed in the shadowed corners of the court, a poisonous vine choking the life from their reign. She witnessed the crimson stain upon the marble, the glint of the usurper’s blade. Elara, then a girl clutching a broken doll, fled into the whispering woods.
(Verse 3)
The forest became her tutor. Thorns taught her resilience, the rustling leaves whispered secrets of survival. Fear was a constant companion, but hunger a sharper master. She learned to track, to snare, to move unseen beneath the canopy. The soft hands that once held embroidery needles now gripped branches, calloused and strong.
(Verse 4)
Years bled into a harsh maturity. The memory of velvet and candlelight faded, replaced by the roughspun of necessity and the cold comfort of a drawn knife. She found others, those who remembered the true King, their eyes holding the same ember of loss and righteous fury. They trained in secret, their movements honed by grief and a shared purpose.
(Verse 5)
Her name became a whisper on the wind, no longer Princess, but the Shadow of the Azure, the Steel Bloom. She led raids on the usurper’s supply lines, her tactics sharp, her courage unwavering. The enemy learned to fear the swift strikes in the night, the phantom attacks that chipped away at their stolen power.
(Verse 6)
Now, at the head of a small but fiercely loyal band, she stands at the border of her ravaged kingdom. The castle spires, once symbols of safety, now loom as a challenge. Doubt flickers, a cold draft against her resolve, but the faces of her followers, etched with hope and hardship, extinguish it.
(Verse 7)
There will be no grand pronouncements, no songs of glory before the battle. Only the grim determination of those who have lost everything and are willing to risk the last breath to reclaim it. Elara, the warrior, raises her hand, the signal to advance. The fight for the Azure Throne has begun, not with a princess’s plea, but with a warrior’s roar.