" What is to be sung transpired in days of yore,
When the divine archons still walked the earth.
A dragon cast his curious gaze on the world below
As he parted from the heavens that gave his birth.
The dragon sought truth amongst common folk,
But mortal trifles only fogged his mind.
The windborne bard strummed his strings dolce
And the Holy Lyre answered his questions kind.
The dragon was but a child full of wonder,
And soared the heavens free from care.
The bard's songs invited him to sing along,
For he yearned to let all perceive him fair.
Enchanting legends the bard and dragon were,
But the tides of despair soon engulfed the land;The lion fang perished and the falcon flag slept.
As a vile dragon approached Mondstadt in lone stand,
Over the Cathedral loomed death and his friends.
Of the people's agony the bard soon sang.
The soaring dragon heeded his grave calls,
And amidst the windstorms a brutal war sprang.
Blood of venom sent the sky dragon into slumber,
Only to awake to be expelled in abhor.
"Why do people in this age loathe me so?"
But the Holy Lyre replied no more.
Wrath and woe, vigor and venom, poured from the dragon's bitter eyes.
The dragon's curse sprawled in silence, but the Lyre could no longer soothe his cries. "