Alpha's Cursed Twain
“A Athair na dTitim, éist le mo ghlao,
Ó chré an domhain go dromchla na réaltaí,
Ardaím an ceo, osclaím an doras,
Tagann do scáth, mo mháistir, mo dhídean!”
The air turned thicker and I smiled hearing the wind howl and move faster. The candlelight flickered, yet refusing to go off and I continued chanting. “Come to master. Tagann do scáth, mo mháistir, mo dhídean!”
Bab Populer