When the lines of white* do twist and twine, the first-born of the second son shall of two Houses be.
Child of the White* Witch thy path doth wind, like the goddess a threefold way, Tracker, Witch, and Hunter thee.
A lone journey to the city named for a small stone, leads the Child of Beauty to his souls mate.
From the ever shifting line of the Ebony beast shall a never changing pup’s soul bind to your fate.
When bound are two souls that can not part, ‘ware to those who work the dark art.
The hour draws nigh to confront the heir of the dark beast.
One whose shape shifts shall claw the light in order to bring on the dark feast.
Boundaries of magic and of flesh shall shatter and white* will shift its shape.
Hunter in white* thy time has appeared, call forth thy mate and thy guard, this fate thou can not escape.
Thou art bound by whites* slender chains the mages burden to bear.
Bound or free only the rising gold shall reveal your fate by its rising glare.
*In some of the ancient copies of this prophecy the scribe uses silver instead of white.