///*****/// [Moonlit Intro] In the temple nave during three days of storm and prowling beasts. herbs bloom from cracks at Eldrin's call while Lyra sterilizes a needle over the last human flare. The old war enters on a drumbeat, but another rhythm waits beneath it. [First Chronicle] They trade healing skills, ration water, reset bones, and defend the entrance from ash-wolves drawn by battlefield blood. Steel gives every frightened answer the same hard voice, yet the ground receives the blood without asking which language named it. We carry the weight of orders and the quieter weight of doubt. Somewhere beyond the visible battle, a patient hand adjusts the board. [Rising Oath] Every touch contradicts a lesson taught by commanders, parents, songs, and graves. If conscience is a wound, let it remain open until truth enters. [Refrain] Hands against the wound tonight No oath, no flag, no wrong, no right Hold the fever, bind the skin Save the life they named a sin Hands against the wound tonight No oath, no flag, no wrong, no right Hold the fever, bind the skin Save the life they named a sin [Second Chronicle] When Lyra's fever spikes, Eldrin spends precious magic to keep her alive and shortens his own strength. What seemed like chance reveals a door; what seemed like duty reveals a chain. Every remembered face becomes a witness standing wordlessly behind the choice. The future is not promised, only placed within reach of hands prepared to change. [Middle Eight] Your people taught you leaf and rain Mine taught the needle, fire, and thread Together we became one answer To every voice that wanted us dead Let the drums fall back and leave one naked heartbeat in the hall. Let the smallest act of mercy challenge every monumental lie. [Lead-Guitar Passage] Begin with the melodic color of herbs bloom from cracks at eldrin's call while lyra sterilizes a needle over the last human flare; climb through the tension of every touch contradicts a lesson taught by commanders, parents, songs, and graves; let two guitar voices disagree, listen, and finally discover a shared phrase. [Refrain — Higher] Hands against the wound tonight No oath, no flag, no wrong, no right Hold the fever, bind the skin Save the life they named a sin We will not feed tomorrow with the ashes of today. Hands against the wound tonight No oath, no flag, no wrong, no right Hold the fever, bind the skin Save the life they named a sin [Last Light] The storm releases one pale star Lyra wakes and finds him weak She places water to his lips Neither calls the gesture debt [Echo] herbs bloom from cracks at Eldrin's call while Lyra sterilizes a needle over the last human flare. [Inner Voice] Every touch contradicts a lesson taught by commanders, parents, songs, and graves. [Narrative Turn] When Lyra's fever spikes, Eldrin spends precious magic to keep her alive and shortens his own strength.
