Son of Aenarion - A Malekith Song | Warhammer Fantasy | Dark Elves

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Lyrics:

From Aenarion’s mighty line, a prince was born of fire,
Raised in halls of Nagarythe, where warriors never tire.
Dragons soared in skies so blue, the mountains crowned with gold,
A kingdom waiting for its king—at least, so he was told.

Son of Aenarion, cast in blackened steel,
Forged in war, betrayed in peace—his fate forever sealed.
Son of Aenarion, fire scars his skin,
Denied his throne, denied his name—so let the war begin!

Whispers coiled like creeping vines, their poison sinking deep,
His blood runs dark, his mother's taint—such shadows do not sleep.
They cast their lots for steadier hands, a ruler calm and wise,
And so the throne was given to a gentler king in guise.

Son of Aenarion, cast in blackened steel,
Forged in war, betrayed in peace—his fate forever sealed.
Son of Aenarion, fire scars his skin,
Denied his throne, denied his name—so let the war begin!

Through battlefields and foreign lands, his legend carved in steel,
Fighting side by side with dwarfs, with men—yet longing for his heel.
But far beyond the world’s bright edge, where Chaos winds run wild,
A crown of iron, cold and cursed, called to Aenarion’s child.

Son of Aenarion, cast in blackened steel,
Forged in war, betrayed in peace—his fate forever sealed.
Son of Aenarion, fire scars his skin,
Denied his throne, denied his name—so let the war begin!

Back home he rode, through tides of war, with purpose sharp and keen,
To cleanse the land of pleasure’s cults, the darkness that lurks unseen.
The corruption's source uncovered, his mother bound in chains,
Yet her promises stayed his hand—to as Phoenix King reign.

Son of Aenarion, cast in blackened steel,
Forged in war, betrayed in peace—his fate forever sealed.
Son of Aenarion, fire scars his skin,
Denied his throne, denied his name—so let the war begin!

To Asuryan’s shrine the princes were called, their judgment cold and stern,
Yet Malekith, with whispered doom, had fates already turned.
He named Bel Shanaar a traitor damned, a coward lost to sin,
The princes saw through the lies, but he was determined to win.

Before the flames of Asuryan, he walked to claim his fate,
But fire judged his heart untrue and burned away his grace.
Screaming, writhing, cast aside—a god’s own wrath made plain,
And in the ashes, vengeance stirred, reborn from the pain.

Son of Aenarion, cast in blackened steel,
Forged in war, betrayed in peace—his fate forever sealed.
Son of Aenarion, fire scars his skin,
Denied his throne, denied his name—so let the war begin!

The war horns cried, the blades were drawn, the Phoenix throne defiled,
A kingdom torn, a brother’s war, all drowned in hatred’s tide.
With dragons black and sorcerers fell, his armies marched in hate,
And so began the Sundering—the breaking of his fate.

Oh, Son of Aenarion, the Witch King reigns,
A kingdom bathed in endless war, a legacy in chains.
Son of Aenarion, the flames could not consume,
He’ll see Ulthuan torn apart, before he meets his doom!