Lyrics
The sun comes up on cold gray stone,
He holds a bow of white pale bone.
Two glowing daggers at his side,
A blue and green where shadows hide.
The dragons lead him through the trees,
To learn the magic of the breeze.
The wild wind throws him in the brush,
A twig will strike and break the hush.
He laughs and shakes the branches free,
To learn the magic of the three.
Wind, fire and water in his hand,
The ancient powers of the land.
He falls and rises from the ground,
Where magic and his home are found.
A seed of flame upon his skin,
He lets the burning joy begin.
The fire leaps and singes hair,
He pours cold water, laughing there.
He shapes a heavy sphere of cold,
Too wild and slippery to hold.
It splashes down across his face,
A bark cup holds the next in place.
With sticks and branches in his hair,
A soaking shirt and burned curl there.
His little steps keep up the pace,
The dragons' son has found his place.
He laughs and shakes the branches free,
To learn the magic of the three.
Wind, fire and water in his hand,
The ancient powers of the land.
He falls and rises from the ground,
Where magic and his home are found.
A cup of bark, a glowing blade...
The dragons' son is unafraid.